Page 91 of What We Brave
"But—"
"I'm not finished." Her voice is gentle but firm. "You also fell in love. With Reid. That was real—I watched it happen. And then thingsgot complicated with Blake, and instead of doing what old Laine would have done?—"
"Running away to Cuba?" Yeah, that almost happened. I was looking up flights and jobs within hours of the break up. Escaping felt like the only option. That instinct is a hard one to fight.
"—you stayed. You fought for what you wanted. Even when it hurt. Even when Blake was awful and Reid wasn't listening and everything fell apart."
I blink back the sudden sting in my eyes.
"And now you're sitting here, terrified, because you had the audacity to imagine something different. Something that doesn't fit the script." Jamila squeezes my hand. "I'm not going to tell you it's impossible. I've seen too many 'impossible' things work out to believe that anymore."
Oh my God, is she going to tell me to do it? "But?"
"But." She holds my gaze. "The road you're talking about? It's not going to be smooth. People won't understand. Your parents definitely won't understand. There will be jealousy and confusion and days when you wonder what the hell you were thinking."
Yeah, that sounds…horrible. "You're really selling this."
"I'm being honest." She doesn't smile. "Because you deserve honest. If you do this—if you actually try to build something with both of them—it's going to take more work than any relationship you've ever had. More communication. More vulnerability. More willingness to look like an idiot in front of the people you love."
I stare at the ceiling fan. Still wobbling. Still turning. Communication I've always been good at. Vulnerability, not so much. But I was figuring that out with Reid. We were building that trust. But we needed more time. I'd have to start building that trust all over again, but with both of them. God. That sounds like a lot of work.
"So you're not going to talk me out of it," I say slowly.
"No."
"Even though it might be a disaster."
"Even then."
"Why?"
Jamila's quiet for a moment. When she speaks, her voice is softer than I've ever heard it.
"Because I spent years pretending I was straight. Dating men I didn't love. Being a version of myself that made my parents, my church, my community, comfortable." She shrugs. "And then I met Kendra?—"
Kendra? Crap. Was I calling her wife the wrong name this whole time?"Wait, I thought?—"
"Before Kerry. First woman I ever kissed." A small smile. "She was completely wrong for me in every practical way. But she showed me that the life I'd been living wasn't the only option. That I could want something different and go after it."
"What happened with her?"
She laughs. "Crashed and burned spectacularly. But it didn't matter, because by then I knew who I was. What I wanted." Jamila bumps her shoulder against mine. "Sometimes you have to try the scary thing to figure out if it's really what you need."
I let that sink in. The wobbling fan. The distant sound of Kerry's basketball game upstairs. The weight of possibility pressing against my chest.
"What if I try and it destroys everything?"
"Then you'll know. And you'll rebuild." Jamila stands, offering me a hand. "But what if you don't try, and you spend the rest of your life wondering?"
I let her pull me to my feet. The room tilts slightly—four beers on an emotional rollercoaster will do that.
"Think about it," Jamila says. "Really think. Not just the fear, but what you actually want. And then—whatever you decide—I'll be here."
She hugs me. Tight. Real.
I pull back from the hug, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand. "Why couldn't I just fall for one normal guy? Like a dentist. Or an accountant. Someone who works nine to five and has a 401k."
Jamila snorts. "A dentist."
