Chapter Thirty Two
THIRTY-TWO
Sean let you stand there for a moment by yourself.
In the living room. In the dark. Rereading the words that mortified you.
But in spite of the pain, you read every last sentence in that letter, all over again.
I understand nothing can happen—I get that—but I just need you to know about this feeling.
And: I’m not sleeping. I barely eat. If it wasn’t for Perkins, I might be dead.
Part of you knew you were never going to give this to her, so you wrote exactly what you felt.
I’ve never been in love before, so even if this ruins everything, I want to thank you just for giving me that.
Your hands were sweating, smudging the blue ink on the page.
Sean sat on the stairs all the while, letting you marinate in your own shame.
And, finally, when you were done reading the words you thought you’d never read again, you closed the notebook and set it on a nearby table.
You scrambled for something to say. You wanted to explain everything, including the realization you’d come to on the way home.
You wanted to take him through the whole thing, starting from that first spark in the corner booth at Perkins and how you came to realize it could never happen.
But he stood up on the stairs and looked at you from over the railing, and you felt yourself getting weak.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just need to sit down for a minute.”
Which you did, on the floor. Sean kept watching. He didn’t move from his spot. He was not the type to break eye contact, or shy away from a tough moment. That had never been his style.
“It must be so easy for you,” he said finally.
You weren’t sure what he meant, but you found yourself unable to ask.
“To be the one everybody worries about.”
He was looking right at you, but you couldn’t return his gaze. He gripped the railing, and you watched his fingers tighten.
“I know you didn’t ask for your anxiety, Case.
And I know you don’t want it. But you have to admit it’s pretty convenient sometimes.
You get to stumble through everything, and when it’s all too much for you or you make a mistake, you can get in bed and take a mental-health day.
And everyone loves you and babies you and nobody expects anything from you. ”
“Sean,” you tried.
“But I expected things,” he said.
He either hadn’t heard you or didn’t care. His hair was tousled from his bike helmet, and he ran a hand through it, combing it into a cresting wave above his angry face.
“And I expected that you wouldn’t take advantage of this situation.”
“What situation?” you said. “What are you talking about?”
He pinched his brow and took a deep breath.
“How oblivious are you, man? The fact that Diana should be with you.”
If it hadn’t seemed so inappropriate, you might have laughed. But the idea felt so absurd to you, even then.
“What are you talking about?” you said again.
Tracks of sweat cut through the dirt on Sean’s face. It occurred to you that all this bike riding might not just be about chasing a new thrill. In that moment, seeing how tired he was, the whole thing seemed like a punishment.
“I can’t open up to people the way you do,” he said. “Okay? I don’t really know how. You’re a genuine person, Case. And I didn’t let her in. I acted like I usually do. I didn’t deserve her. But I just wanted … a chance to fix it.”
You stood up again, unable to sit still anymore.
“Sean, listen! I haven’t taken advantage of anything,” you said.
You picked up the notebook and held it out.
“I never gave this to her! I knew it was wrong. I didn’t act on anything!”
Sean was quiet a moment, and you wondered if he was actually hearing you this time. But then he shook his head and smiled.
“And next you’ll tell me you weren’t just at her house,” he said.
He held your gaze for a moment, giving you a chance to deny it.
But on a loop in your head was the kiss, Diana leaning across the table and the feeling of her lips against yours.
Why didn’t you stop it? Why didn’t it even occur to you to stop it?
You knew the answer, and it hurt your chest to think of it.
“You just assume everyone is going to forgive you,” he said. “That you get a free pass for life because you’re the breakable one. The one we all need to tread lightly around. But it doesn’t always work like that. Some things…”
“Sean,” you said. “Can you just let me talk for a minute?”
But he was already up the last steps and disappearing from sight.
You waited a minute to see if he would come back down and scream in your face or shove you to the ground.
In that moment, you wanted him to do it.
To do something that would be painful enough to settle the score.
But Sean had never hurt you, even when you were little, and you knew he never would.
What he did instead was worse. From that day on, he didn’t treat you cruelly. He didn’t scream at you or put you down. He didn’t even look at you with spite or derision.
He just cut you out of his life.