by Jenny Han
His shoulders shook. He was crying. Hearing him beg like this, seeing him exposed and vulnerable, it felt like my heart was breaking. There were so many things I wanted to say to him. But I couldn’t. With Conrad, once I started, I couldn’t stop.
I broke away from him roughly. “Conrad—”
He grabbed me. “Just tell me. Do you still feel anything for me?”
I pushed him away. “No! Don’t you get it? You will never be what Jere is to me. He’s my best friend. He loves me no matter what. He doesn’t take it away whenever he feels like it. Nobody has ever treated me the way he does. Nobody. Least of all you.
“You and I,” I said, and then I stopped. I had to get this right. I had to make it so that he let me go forever. “You and I were never anything.”
His face went slack. I saw the light die out in his eyes. I couldn’t look at him anymore.
I started walking again, and this time he didn’t follow me. I didn’t look back. Couldn’t look back. If I saw his face again, I might not be able to leave.
As I walked, I told myself, Hold it, hold it, just a little longer. Only when I was sure he couldn’t see me, only when the house was in sight again, that was when I let myself cry. I dropped down in the sand and cried for Conrad and then for me. I cried for what was never going to be.
It’s a known fact that in life, you can’t have everything. In my heart I knew I loved them both, as much as it is possible to love two people at the same time. Conrad and I were linked, we would always be linked. That wasn’t something I could do away with. I knew that now—that love wasn’t something you could erase, no matter how hard you tried.
I got up, I brushed the sand from my body, and I went inside the house. I climbed into Jeremiah’s bed, next to him. He was passed out, snoring loudly the way he did when he drank too much.
“I love you,” I said to his back.
chapter forty-eight
Late the next morning, Taylor and Anika went into town to pick up some last-minute things. I stayed behind to clean the bathrooms, since the parents were arriving later that day. The boys were all still asleep, which was a good thing. I didn’t know what I would or wouldn’t say to Jeremiah. The worry was eating me up inside. Would it be selfish or would it be merciful not to say anything?
I ran into Conrad on my way out of the shower, and I couldn’t even look him in the eye. I heard his car leave soon after. I didn’t know where he’d gone, but I hoped he’d stay far away from me. It felt too raw, too soon. I found myself wishing that either he or I wasn’t there. I couldn’t leave—I was the one getting married—but I wished he would. It would make things easier. It was a selfish thought, I knew. It was half Conrad’s house, after all.
After I’d made the beds and straightened up the guest bathroom, I went down to the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. I thought I was safe, I thought he was still out. But there he was, eating a sandwich himself.
As soon as he saw me, Conrad put down his sandwich. Roast beef, it looked like. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“I’m about to go into town to run some errands,” I said, looking somewhere in the vicinity of over his shoulder, anywhere but at him. “Wedding stuff.”
I started to walk away, but he followed me out to the porch.
“Listen, I’m sorry about last night.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Will you do me a favor? Will you just forget everything I said?” He flashed a slight, ironic kind of smile. I wanted to smack the smile off his face. “I was out of my mind last night, drunk off my ass. Being here again, it just brought back a lot of stuff. But it’s all ancient history, I know that. Honestly, I can barely remember what I said, but I’m sure that whatever it was, it was out of line. I’m really sorry.”
For a moment I felt such rage, I think I forgot how to speak. I found it was hard to catch my breath. I felt like a flopping goldfish, opening and closing my mouth, sucking in pockets of air. I hadn’t even slept the night before; instead, I’d agonized over every word he said to me. I felt so stupid. And to think, just for a second, just for a moment, I had wavered. I had pictured it, what it would be like, if I was marrying him and not Jeremiah. I hated him for that.
“You weren’t drunk,” I said.
“Yeah, I really was.” This time he gave me an apologetic smile.
I ignored it. “You brought up all that the weekend of my wedding, and now you want me to just ‘forget it’? You’re sick. Don’t you get that you can’t play with people like that?”
Conrad’s smile faded. “Hold on a second. Belly—”
“Don’t say my name.” I backed away from him. “Don’t even think it. In fact, don’t ever speak to me again.”
Again with the ironic half smile, he said, “Well, that would be kind of hard, considering the fact that you’re marrying my brother. Come on, Belly.”
I didn’t think I could be angrier, and now I was. I was so mad, I practically spat as I said, “I want you to leave. Make up one of your bullshit excuses and just go. Go back to Boston or California. I don’t care where. I just want you gone.”
His eye twitched. “I’m not leaving.”
“Go,” I said, shoving him, hard. “Just go.”
That’s when I saw the first cracks in his armor.
His voice cracking, he said, “What did you expect me to say to you, Belly?”
“Stop saying my name!” I screamed.
“What do you want from me?” he yelled back. “I laid myself fucking bare last night! I put it all out there, and you shut me down. Rightfully so. I get that I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff to you. But now here I am trying to find a way to come out of this with just a little fragment of pride so I can look you in the eye when this is all over, and you won’t even let me have that. You broke my heart last night, all right? Is that what you want to hear?”
Again, I was at a loss for words. And then I found them. I said, “You really are heartless.”
“No, I think you might actually be the heartless one,” he said.
He was already walking away as I called out, “What is that supposed to mean?” I walked up right behind and twisted his arm toward me so we were facing each other. “Tell me what you meant by that.”
“You know what it means.” Conrad jerked away from me. “I still love you. I never stopped. I think you know it. I think you’ve known it all along.”
I pressed my lips together, shaking my head. “That’s not true.”
“Don’t lie.”
I shook my head again.
“Have it your way. But I’m not going to pretend for you anymore.” With that, he walked down the steps and to his car.
I sank onto the deck. My heart was pounding a million trillion times a minute. I never felt more alive. Anger, sadness, joy. He made me feel it all. No one else had that kind of effect on me. No one.
Suddenly I had this feeling, this absolute certainty, that I was never going to be able to let him go. It was as simple and as hard as that. I had clung to him like a barnacle all these years, and now I couldn’t cut away. It was my own fault, really. I couldn’t let go of Conrad, and I couldn’t walk away from Jeremiah.
Where did that leave me?
I was getting married tomorrow.
If I did it, if I chose Conrad, I could never go back. I would never cup the back of Jere’s neck in my hand again, feel its downy softness. Like feathers. Jere would never look at me the way he did now. He looked at me like I was his girl. Which I was, and it felt like it had always been that way. That would all be lost. Over. Some things you can’t take back. How was I supposed to say good-bye to all of those things? I couldn’t. And what about our families? What would it do to my mother, his father? It would destroy us. I couldn’t do that. Especially—especially with everything so fragile now that Susannah was gone. We were still figuring out how to all be together without her, how to still be that summer family.
I couldn’t give all that up, just for this. Just fo
r Conrad. Conrad, who told me he loved me. At last, he said the words.
When Conrad Fisher told a girl he loved her, he meant it. A girl could believe in that. A girl could maybe even bet her whole life on it.
That was what I would be doing. I would be betting my whole life on him. And I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t.
chapter forty-nine
CONRAD
I was in my car, driving away, my adrenaline pumping hard.
I finally said it. The actual words, out loud, to her face. It was a relief, not carrying it around anymore, and it was a rush, actually telling her. I was in an elated sort of daze, on a high. She loved me. I didn’t need to hear her say it out loud, I knew it innately in the way she looked at me just then.
But now what? If she loved me and I loved her, what did we do now, when there were so many people in between us? How could I ever get to her? Did I have it in me to just grab her hand and run away? I believed she’d come with me. If I asked her, I believed she really might come. But where would we even go? Would they forgive us? Jere, Laurel, my dad. And if I really did take her away, where would I be leading her?
Beyond that, the questions and the doubts, in the pit of my stomach, there was all this regret. If I had told her a year ago, a month ago, even a week ago, would things be different now? It was the day before her wedding. In twenty-four hours, she would be married to my brother. Why did I wait so long?
I drove around for a while, into town and then along the water, then I went back to the house. None of the cars were parked in the driveway, so I thought I was home free for a while—but then there was Taylor sitting on the front porch.
“Where is everybody?” I asked her.
“Well hello to you, too.” She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. “They went sailing.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?”
“I get seasick.” Taylor eyed me. “I need to talk to you.”
Warily, I eyed her back. “About what?”
She pointed at the chair next to hers. “Come sit down first.”
I sat.
“What did you say to Belly last night?”
Averting my eyes, I said, “What did she tell you?”
“Nothing. But I can tell something’s wrong. I know she was crying last night. Her eyes were completely swollen this morning. I would be willing to bet money that she was crying because of you. Again. Nice one, Conrad.”
I could feel my chest tighten. “It’s none of your business.”
Taylor glared at me. “Belly is my oldest friend in the world. Of course it’s my business. I’m warning you, Conrad. Leave her alone. You’re confusing her. Again.”
I started to stand up. “Are we done?”
“No. Sit your ass back down.”
I sat down again.
“Do you have any idea how badly you’ve hurt her, over and over again? You treat her like a toy that you just pick up and play with whenever you feel like it. You’re like a little boy. Someone else took what was yours, and you don’t like that one bit, so you swoop in and shit all over everything just because you can.”
I exhaled. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
She bit her lip. “Belly told me that a part of her will always love you. Are you still trying to tell me you don’t care?”
She said that? “I never said I didn’t care.”
“You’re probably the only one who could stop her from going though with this wedding. But you’d better be damn sure you still want her, because if you don’t, you’re just effing up their lives for no reason.” She put her sunglasses back on. “Don’t eff up my best friend’s life, Conrad. Don’t be a selfish bastard like usual. Be the good guy she says you are. Let her go.”
Be the good guy she says you are.
I thought I could do it, fight for her till the end, not think about anyone else. Just grab her hand and run. But if I did that, wouldn’t I be proving Belly wrong? I wasn’t a good guy. I would be a selfish bastard just like Taylor said. But I would have Belly next to me.
chapter fifty
That night, we all had dinner at a newish restaurant in town—my parents, Mr. Fisher, all of us kids. I wasn’t hungry, but I ordered a lobster roll and I ate every bite of it, because my dad was paying. He insisted. My dad, who wore the same white dress shirt with gray stripes for every “fancy” occasion. He was wearing it that night, sitting next to my mother in her navy shirtdress, and my heart just swelled with love every time I looked at the two of them.
And there was Taylor, pretending to be interested as my dad went on about a lobster’s nervous system. Sitting next to Anika, who actually did look interested. Next to Anika was my brother, who was rolling his eyes.
Conrad sat at the far end of the table, with Jere’s friends. I made a conscious effort not to look in his direction, to just keep focused on my plate, on Jeremiah next to me. I didn’t have to bother, because Conrad wasn’t looking at me either. He was talking to the guys, to Steven, to my mother. To everyone but me. This is what you wanted, I reminded myself. You told him to leave you alone. You asked for this.
You can’t have it both ways.
“Are you okay?” Jeremiah whispered.
I lifted my head and smiled at him. “Yeah! Of course. I’m just full.”
Jeremiah took one of my fries and said, “Save room for dessert.”
I nodded. Then he leaned over and kissed me, and I kissed him back. After, I saw his eyes flicker over to the end of the table, so quick I could have imagined it.
chapter fifty-one
CONRAD
I felt like I was going out of my mind that night. Sitting there at the table with everyone, cheersing when my dad made a toast, trying not to watch when Jere kissed her in front of all of us.
After dinner was over, Jere and Belly and all their friends went to the boardwalk for ice cream. My dad and Belly’s dad went to their hotel. It was just Laur and me back at the house. I was on my way up to my room, but Laurel stopped me and said, “Hey, let’s have a beer, Connie. I think we deserve it, don’t you?”
We sat at the kitchen table with our beers. She clinked my bottle and said, “To . . . what should we toast to?”
“What else? To the happy couple.”
Without looking at me, Laurel said, “How are you doing?”
“Good,” I said. “Great.”
“Come on. This is your Laura you’re talking to. Tell me. How are you feeling?”
“Honestly?” I swigged my beer. “It’s pretty much killing me.”
Laurel looked back at me, her face tender. “I’m sorry. I know you love her a lot, kid. This must be really hard on you.”
I could feel my throat starting to close up. I tried to clear it, unsuccessfully. I could feel it coming up in my chest, behind my eyes. I was going to cry in front of her. It was the way she said it, it was like my mom was right there, knowing without me having to tell her.
Laurel took my hand and clasped it in hers. I tried to pull it away, but she held on tighter. “We’ll get through it tomorrow, I promise. It’ll be you and me, kid.” Squeezing my hand, she said, “God, I miss your mom.”
“Me too.”
“We really need her right now, don’t we?”
I bowed my head and started to cry.
chapter fifty-two
I wanted to sleep in Jeremiah’s room that night, but when I started to follow him upstairs, Taylor wagged her finger at me. “Uh-uh. It’s bad luck.”
So I’d gone to my room, and he’d gone to his.
It was too hot. I couldn’t sleep. I’d kick the covers off and flip my pillow over to cool off, but it didn’t help. I kept looking at the alarm clock. One o’clock, two o’clock.
When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I threw off my sheets and put on my bathing suit. I didn’t turn on any lights, I just found my way downstairs in the darkness. The moonlight was enough to guide me. Everyone else was asleep.
I made my way outside, down to the pool. I
dove in, held my breath for as long as I could. I could already feel my bones start to relax. When I came back up for air, I floated on my back and looked up at the sky. The stars were out. I loved how quiet it was, how still. The only thing I could hear was the ocean lapping against the sand.
Tomorrow I would become Isabel Fisher. It was what I always wanted, my girlhood dream come true a thousand times over. And I’d wrecked it. Or rather, I was about to wreck it. I had to tell the truth. I couldn’t marry Jeremiah tomorrow like this, not with a secret that big between us.
I climbed out of the pool, put the towel around me, and went inside the house, up to Jeremiah’s room. He was asleep, but I shook him awake. “I need to talk to you,” I said. Water from my hair dripped onto his pillow, onto his face.
Groggily, he said, “Isn’t it bad luck?”
“I don’t care.”
Jeremiah sat up, wiping his cheeks. “What’s up?”
“Let’s talk outside,” I said.
We went down to the porch and sat on a lounge chair.
Without preamble, I said, quietly, “Last night Conrad told me he still has feelings for me.”
I could feel Jeremiah’s body go rigid beside me. I waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, I went on. “Of course I told him I didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to tell you sooner, but then I thought it would be a mistake, that I should keep it to myself—”
“I’m going to kill him,” he said, and hearing those words coming out of his mouth shocked me. He stood up.
I tried to pull him back down next to me, but he resisted. I pleaded, “Jere, no. Don’t. Please just sit here and talk to me.”
“Why are you protecting him?”
“I’m—I’m not. I’m not.”
