Page 70 of Yours, For Good

Telling Nora everything would let her make a true choice… and it would likely push her away from me.

I sat alone at the small Remington Estate restaurant, only a mug of coffee in front of me. The core group of us had spent the night at the events venue for convenience; after a lovely party for Gabe's parents, it was a practical way to enjoy the elegant venue, and enjoy breakfast together with some of my favorite people.

Even though I drank more than I should have the night before, I remembered everything clearly. The sudden headache that attacked me that morning was better explained by my revelation more than alcohol, and I rubbed my eyebrows with stiff fingers.

It was like I was stuck in a loop reviewing the moment Jake and Vi kissed in front of everyone, and I realized I had to tell Nora everything.

"Good morning, my friend!" Max, full of energy and charismatic even first thing in the morning, pulled out a chair and sat next to me. "I'm delighted to find you all on your own."

I gave him weary eyes.

Eva sat next to her husband. "Beware, Javier. He's unusually cheerful this morning."

He grinned at his wife. "Oh, darling, I didn't think you minded? You certainly seemed to enjoy it half an hour ago when I did that thing you like—"

"Max!" She suppressed a smile. "Don't get distracted. Your friend needs you."

Max turned to me with a feline smile. "She's right. You look like you need an intervention."

"I'm good, actually," I said. "I know what I must do."

"You're not good." He leaned back on his chair and arched an eyebrow. "The amount of fucks you gave us last night was the first indication. The way you half-confessed to lying to a friend—"

"Technically I didn't lie." I sipped from my coffee while Max and Eva asked for their drinks, and Gabe and Lina joined us. "I never said anything false, I just omitted a few very important things."

"Lying by omission is not a lie in technicality only," Gabe said.

"I'm so glad we made it on time for this," Lina added.

I placed my mug carefully on the table. "Good morning to you, too."

Max frowned. "We should probably wait for Jake and Vi. They're going to want to be a part of this."

"I don't need an intervention," I tried again. "Like I said, I know what I must do."

I knew what my friends would say. That I had fucked up and needed to make it better. That I couldn't let it die as it was; that Nora deserved to have all the information, especially now that she wasn't beholden to me and the program. She deserved the opportunity to berate me and show me her feelings.

Even if I couldn't fix the past, I had to give her agency.

Max wasn't deterred by my reticence. "You may not need an intervention, but you said it last night. You need help with this one."

"You may know what to do," Gabe added, "but let us help you figure out how to do it."

"This person matters to you, right?" Lina asked.

I nodded but said nothing. If I tried to speak, I'd end up correcting the simple statement; mattering wasn't big enough a word to describe what I felt for Nora.

"Then that's more the reason not to try to figure things out on your own," she said.

I made a pattern on the tablecloth with a finger. Telling Nora the whole truth would mean owning my mistakes and accepting her response. My friends were the only people I trusted enough to give me a practice run… especially if they could give me advice afterwards.

With a deep sigh, I nodded again. Jake and Vi joined us, we ordered, and waited for the food and drinks to arrive.

Lacking my appetite, I didn't touch my simple meal of eggs and toast until I told them everything. How her letters had pulled me in, and how much I regretted her struggles. How the only thing I could make better was her loneliness, if only for a little while. How protecting the program meant hiding who I was from her, and the things I did once I met her. How the time we spent together changed something in me.

"Every time we share a room, I feel a little breathless." My voice hung heavy in the air. My confession wasn't difficult, now that I had started. "We get closer and closer, and holding on to the rules I set for myself is harder and harder."

My friends watched me with keen interest as I monologued. No one seemed to mind; in fact, they seemed enthralled. Under different circumstances, I might have enjoyed their bewilderment. As it was, all I could do was sigh.