Page 152 of The Build-a-Boyfriend Project

Eli braces himself in front of the doors, urging them to open, seemingly waiting forever before he’s able to step out onto the open platform of MacArthur Station.

“Can you hear me?” Eli asks again.

“Yeah, that’s better,” Peter says. “What was that?”

“I’m at the train station, coming back from my parents’.”

“Oh, right, it’s Thanksgiving.”

“What are you doing?” Eli asks.

“Just got back from climbing. I was going to shower and go meet a friend.”

“Seriously? The gym is open today?” Eli ignores the “meet a friend.” Because he doesn’t want to think about what that could possibly mean.

Peter lets out a quiet chuckle. “You’d be surprised how many people want to squeeze in a workout when they’ve got nowhere else to go.”

Eli tries to laugh with him, but the sadness of Peter’s words stings him.

“I wish you could’ve joined us today,” Eli admits, even if it’s the wrong thing to say. “My mom was wondering where you were.”

A beat of silence.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth.” Eli sighs. “That I hurt you. That you’re angry, and it’s best that we don’t see one another right now.”

“I’m not angry at you, Eli.” Peter’s voice is firmer than Eli can ever recall it being.

Eli pauses, the words sinking in slowly. “You’re . . . you’re not?”

“I was, at first. Especially after I read the article. But . . . after a while, I don’t know, I just . . . I stopped feeling angry. I’m just . . . I’m heartbroken.”

“I know.”

“What you did hurt me,” Peter tells him. “A lot.”

Eli doesn’t know how to respond to hearing the words. Of course he knew he’d hurt Peter, but to hear him say it out loud . . . it’s different.

“I know, Peter. And I wish . . . God, I wish that I could say I would take it back. Because I regret so much of what happened, and I regret lying to you. But if I hadn’t taken Michael’s stupid idea and done what he told me to, then . . . then I never would’ve given you that second chance. And I know that sounds fucked up, because it is. And it sounds selfish as hell, and it’s because I’m being completely selfish right now.” Eli takes a shaky breath. “I regret hurting you, I regret the article, both of them, and I regret lying to you for so long. But I don’t regret getting to spend that time with you. Those weeks that we were together . . . they were the best time of my life, Peter. And no part of those feelings was a lie.”

“They were good for me too,” Peter tells him. “I wasn’t lying either, when I said that I’d fallen in love with you too.”

Eli can’t stop himself from smiling, no matter how pained he feels.

“I didn’t know what to do with those feelings at first, because I thought that you didn’t feel the same way. And I was . . . I was afraid. Of letting you go. What our relationship would turn into.”

Eli wishes that he could feel relief at the words; he wishes that he could feel like things are fixed, that everything is magical now. But he can’t help but expect the ball to drop at any moment.

“And then you made the decision easy,” Peter says.

There it is, Eli thinks.

“I wish you hadn’t, but . . . what happened happened, I guess.”

“Yeah, it did.”

More silence stretches between them both; people walk past Eli, obviously annoyed with where he’s chosen to stand as they make their way down the platform.