Page 61 of What We Brave
The question cuts deeper than I expect.
"That's not fair."
"I'm not trying to be fair. I'm trying to be your friend." Jamila squeezes my fingers. "You told me you moved your whole life. Never stayed anywhere. Never put down roots. Then you come to Eugene and suddenly you're buying real furniture and working a permanent job and falling for a guy who represents stability. That's a lot of 'firsts' all at once."
"Reid wasn't just about stability."
"I believe you. But can you honestly tell me you would have fallen for him the same way if you'd met him five years ago? When you were still hopping from city to city?"
I want to say yes. Want to defend what Reid and I had. But the truth is more complicated.
"I don't know," I admit. "Maybe not. I was different then. I wanted different things."
"Right. So maybe the question isn't 'Reid or Blake.' Maybe it's 'what do I actually want my life to look like, and does either of these men fit into that picture?'"
I pull my hand back, pressing my palms against my eyes. The headache that's been threatening all morning finally arrives, a dull throb behind my temples.
"You make it sound simple."
"It's not simple. It's just... clearer. If you step back far enough." Jamila's voice softens. "Look, I'm not telling you what to do. I don't know Reid. I've never met Blake. I only know what you've told me, and what you've told me is that both of these men hurt you in different ways. That doesn't mean they're bad people. It doesn't mean you can't love them. It just means maybe you need to love yourself first."
"That sounds like a self-help book."
"Self-help books exist for a reason." She grins, but it fades quickly. "I'm serious, though. You said you came to Eugene to build a life. A permanent one. And then Reid became part of that life so fast that you never really got to figure out whatyourlife looks like on its own. Now you have a chance to do that."
"By being alone."
"By being with yourself." She shrugs. "It's different."
I think about my apartment. The furniture I picked out myself, piece by piece. The yoga classes and the volunteer work and the job I actually love. All the pieces of a life I've been building, brick by brick, like someone who has her act together.
Reid fits into that life. He did before, and he could again.
But Blake?
Blake is chaos. Blake is damage and intensity and the unknown. The untested. The thing I can't predict or control.
And Jamila's right. If I choose Blake, I still have to face Reid. Every day. Forever. Watch him watch us. Watch him hurt.
If I choose Reid, I still have to face Blake. Every day. Forever. Feel that pull. That awareness. That something between us that won't go away no matter how much I want it to.
And that's the best case scenario. Worst case, my choice blows up their relationship entirely, and someone is left standing outside in the cold. So what do I do? Pick the safe thing and spend the rest of my life wondering? Pick the dangerous thing and watch everything around me burn?
"It's a doomed situation," I say quietly. "Isn't it?" I was fooling myself. Just letting myself feel, go with my gut, but that's never going to work.
Jamila doesn't answer right away. She picks up her fork, pushes a piece of pancake around her plate.
"Maybe," she finally says. "Or maybe there's a version of this that works. I don't know. I just know that you can't keep going the way you're going—kissing one man while you're still in love with the other, not talking to your friends, disappearing into your own head." She looks up at me. "That's not sustainable."
"No. It's not."
"So what are you going to do?"
"I don't have a single clue."
14
BLAKE
