This Summer Will Be Different(80)

“It’s not just that, Felix. It’s you. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be without you.”

“I want that, too.” His hand finds my cheek. “I want you in my home, in my bed. I want us to have our own full days and come back and talk about them together. But I can’t start this unless you’re certain about us.”

“I am,” I tell him, louder. “I’m not sure what I want, but I know I’m happy when I’m with you. Work, living here, being lonely when Bridget moves away—that’s what I need to sort through.”

“And that’s okay. You don’t need to know what you want yet, and you should take time to figure that out. But I don’t think I could handle it if you came to the island for the wrong reasons and then decided I don’t have a place in your life after you’ve had time to reflect. If we do this, I want to do it properly.”

I take a beat to listen to what he’s said. This is the most important fight of my life, and I don’t want to get confused. “I need to think for a minute.” I stare into his eyes, desperation rising. I can feel the tears coming. “Don’t leave. Please stay.”

“I’m not leaving. Let’s sit down.”

I get to the sofa. Felix brings two glasses of water, and I sip at mine until I can untangle my thoughts, repeat in my mind what Felix has said so that I can try to understand.

“I’ve never wanted to be with another person the way I want to be with you,” I tell him. “I’ve never liked anyone the way I like you.”

He swallows, then reaches for my hand. “Can I?”

I nod, and his fingers fold into mine. I squeeze.

“I can’t be your escape route.” He pauses, letting this sink in. “I don’t want to be a stop along your journey. I want to be the destination.”

“You’re scared.”

“Lucy, I am terrified. The way I feel about you . . .” His eyes are fixed on mine, pleading for me to understand. “You could break me so easily.”

The way he says it makes my heart ache. Felix deserves a relationship that starts from a steady place, and I can’t give him that today or tomorrow. It’s not the right time for him, and maybe it’s not the right time for me, either. I have a history of turning away from my problems instead of confronting them, and moving to PEI would be no different. And is it what I want? I can’t say I’m 100 percent certain. I need time to figure me out.

“I’m scared, too,” I tell him. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either.”

“We can’t do this now,” I say. I know he’s right. I can’t run away from my life—I owe that to myself, but I owe it to him, too.

When the tears come, Felix bundles me against his chest. I try to soak up the smell of him, imprint it on my soul.

“Lucy.” His voice is thick. “There’s a reason we keep coming back to each other. We can come back to each other again.”

I burrow farther into his warmth. “What if we don’t?”

“I think we will.” Felix takes my shoulders in his hands, and gently leans me back so I can look at him. His cheeks are damp. “But if we don’t, then we know it wasn’t meant to be.”

“I don’t like that,” I tell him. “I’m mad at you,” I say with no heat.

“I know.”

I stare at him, this beautiful, caring, brilliant man. A man I admire more and more every moment we spend together. Even now. I want him to know. I need him to know. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“It’s going to sound corny, but I feel like I should say it in case I don’t get another chance.”

“I’m a big fan of corny,” Felix says, voice rough.

“I’ve always thought what you did was impressive—the way you started over. The life you’d planned was knocked off course, but you picked yourself back up. You and Zach had a dream, and you worked hard to make it a reality. And the cottages are incredible—I don’t know if I expressed that last year. I’ve always found it inspiring.”

Felix tries to smile. “That’s funny,” he says. “I’ve always thought what you did was impressive. You left your job, defied your parents, carved your own path. Corny or not, I think you’re inspiring.”

My chest hurts with how badly I want to hold on to him, to never let him leave. “We’ve been good for each other, I think,” I whisper.

“I think so, too.”

“Can you stay? Just for tonight? I sleep better when you hold me.”

He shakes his head, eyes glassy. “I’m going to go. If I don’t, I’m not sure I ever will.”

“Now?” I say, my throat going tight again.

“Yeah,” he says gently. “I think I better.”

He gathers his things from my bedroom as I wait near the door.

“Where will you go?”

“I’ll get a cab. Head to the hotel where everyone’s staying. Don’t worry about me.”

“But I will,” I tell him. “I’ll think about you all the time, and I’ll worry.”

“You don’t need to.” He looks at me like he’s trying to memorize me. “Worry about you.”