Page 34 of Every Time We Touch

“I’m sorry,” Marcy says, to my surprise. “That the one person you’ve liked in ages is your dad’s girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” I say.

“How’s Eric?” Marcy got along well with my dad when we were together. “Did she break his heart?”

“I can’t think about that too much.” When my dad called earlier, I didn’t pick up. I texted that I was in a meeting and busy the rest of the day.

“Figures.” She looks at me again. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t have many options.” Zero, to be precise.

“In life, there are always options.” That’s a very Marcy thing to say.

I tell her another secret I could never share with my siblings. “You have no idea how much I want to say fuck it all and see Clancy again.” It feels so good to say it out loud, to give a voice to that impossible feeling that’s been eating me up from the inside.

“Fuck your family, you mean?” Marcy asks.

I nod. I’d never actually fuck with my family like that, though. That’s simply not who I am. I’d never do that to my dad. It’s hard enough just being with them right now. Imagine sitting next to my dad if Clancy and I—no, I can’t even go there.

“What if you put yourself first?” Marcy asks in the tone of voice she uses in her training sessions—commanding and with no space for contradiction.

“What do you mean?”

“What if you see Clancy again?” Marcy asks. “What if you do what you want to do more than anything?”

“Not more than hurting my dad.”

“More than anything,” Marcy insists. “Leave your dad out of it for a moment.”

“I’d want to explore what might happen.” I’d be a fool not to, with how Clancy made me feel with one single kiss—and then another, because one could never be enough.

“What if…” Marcy taps her fingertips together. “You gave yourself permission for… one night?”

“What?” Did she put something in that water we’re drinking? Has her bottle been spiked?

“One night won’t hurt anyone and then, at least, you’ll know.”

“Know what?”

“If it could really have been something or not.” Marcy makes it sound as though it makes sense, but it really doesn’t. “If it’s a dud night, you can just move on.”

“And if it’s not?” Despite my unwillingness to go down this route with Marcy, something stirs under my skin.

“Then you take it from there.”

“Take it where?” I need to shake this thought off as quickly as possible. I can’t believe we’re even talking about this. “Take her to brunch at Mom’s house? Dad’s?”

“No need to book the U-Haul just yet, Jen,” Marcy jokes, but I can’t joke about this. Or maybe I should. Maybe it’s the only way to look at it. But, no. What she’s saying is ludicrous.

“Remember when we first met?” Marcy asks.

“Of course.” I’m not sure what that has to do with this, but I’m curious where Marcy’s going with it.

“Sometimes something happens when two people get together. Something that’s stronger than anything else. Stronger even than your resolve to be a good girl.”

Is that how Marcy remembers meeting me?

“You’ve always been the good girl in your family, Jen. You don’t have to be forever,” she says.