Page 78 of Perfect Fit
“Thank you,” Will says. “Back at you.”
“Okay. What’s the fourth worst thing about you?”
Will holds up a palm. “Hang on. These aren’t power rankings. They’re just the five worst, in no particular order. If you want to rank them later, that’s your call.”
“Deal.”
“Number four is: I love sports.”
He holds a serious face for about three seconds before the corner of his mouth kicks up, and I start laughing again.
“No!” I cry.
“Yes,” he responds, the word defiant. “I put that in the list of worst things the minute you mentioned it earlier. But the truth is, Josephine, IloveTexas football, and I also root for the Nashville Preds. The NFL, I couldn’t care less about. But I’m really into college football and professional hockey.”
Part of me thinks that’s adorable—and anyway, who am I tojudge his interests when I don’t want to be judged for mine?—but the whole point of this exercise is for menotto find anything Will tells me endearing. I expel a sigh, curling in on myself.
“Aside from the cheating thing you mentioned in the guest room, I’d argue these are more quirks than bad traits,” I say.
“Well, I saved the best for last.”
“You mean theworstfor last.”
Will scratches at his arm. Despite the warm smile on his face, barely visible even from this close, I sense the shift in his composure. Up until now we’ve been mostly joking, but whatever Will is about to tell me has more weight. His smile drops a fraction at a time—until it’s gone, washed away by night. Somehow, it makes the stark color of his eyes intensify as they hold mine.
“Right before I left my previous job,” he whispers, “I was responsible for ending a marriage. So, on top of my parents’ marriage, which I also ended—” He winces. “That’s two now. My responsibility, both of them. And I didn’t do it gently or kindly the second time. I was thoughtless about it. Selfish. I broke someone’s heart.”
He pauses, gulps. “The point is, I have a habit of ruining things. Marriages. Friendships. Even business partnerships. I’m the common denominator. The person that causes your relationship to break. I try to do the right thing. I’ve always,alwaystried. I’ve never set out to hurt people. But I do anyway, every time. And I’m terrified, Josie, that somehow, some way, I will break something that matters to youagain.”
This, I realize, is Will Grant’s most shame-filled self-realization.
His lowest opinion of himself.
He broke Amber’s relationship with Zoe.
Zoe’s friendship with me.
Zoe’s opinion of her father.
Their father’s marriage with their mother.
And this other marriage, too—whoever that couple oncewas—which Will claims to have ruined in a way that inflicted obvious pain.
I could tell him other people’s relationships ending isn’t Will’s fault—but that’s not really his issue, anyway. It’showthings end. The role Will plays in it. His regret, his remorse, his self-loathing over his involvement. If he hadn’t kissed me on the beach, would Zoe and I have stayed close? If he hadn’t kept his father’s secret all year, would his mother have suffered less heartache? If he hadn’t dated Amber, would Zoe have never put distance between them?
More than anything, I want to pull Will into my arms, promise him he isn’t a villain.
In the very next blink, I do exactly what I want.
“You are not a bad person for telling your mother the truth,” I whisper against his neck. Will’s arms circle my waist, and he pulls me closer. “You are also not a bad person for keeping it from her because your father asked that of you. It’s not your fault Zoe and I stopped talking. She and I shoulder that blame in equal measure. And I don’t need context on what happened with that other marriage to know you feel remorse for your hand in how it ended.”
Will’s lips ghost along the crown of my head. One of his hands tangles in my hair. His other squeezes my hip, and I feel moldable.
“What if I was okay with being your collateral damage?” he whispers.
My breath hitches. “What?”
“What if you took from me what you wanted and left the rest? I can take it.” His voice is deep in his throat, breath warm on my skin. “Use me. Please. It would be an honor. I can exist for you only in moments like this one. I can be scarce when you need me not to exist.”
