“My fun?” I couldn’t believe what he was saying. “As if you haven’t been obsessed with me for years. For years!”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Cal said, but his face was red.
“You wanted it,” I said. “Wanted me.”
“Yeah, well”—he gave me a long once-over—“everyone makes mistakes.”
We were trying to hurt each other and damned if we weren’t succeeding.
“Fuck you, Cal,” I said.
“Been there, done that,” he said.
I wanted to slap him.
“Get out of my dressing room.”
“I’ll do you one better,” he said. “I’m out. Period. We’re done.”
“We never even began.” I was angry and heartbroken as I watched Cal harden into something—someone—I didn’t know anymore.
“Good,” he said. “Because this was all a big fucking mistake.”
“Get out!” I shouted. “Get! Out!”
He did, jerking the door open to reveal Ryan on the other side. The expression on his face indicated he’d heard us.
“Perfect,” Cal said. “Just fucking perfect.” He stepped aside with a flourish. “She’s all yours, bro.”
And then he was gone.
“Katee?” Ryan asked, his voice hesitant, his expression confused. “What’s going on?”
I sat down at my vanity, my head in my hands. I wanted to cry. I didn’t know over what.
“I’m sorry, Ryan,” I said. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He came and knelt in front of me. “It’s okay,” he said.
“No, it’s not,” I said, looking up at him. “I cheated on you. With Cal. That’s extremely not okay.”
I could see a muscle twitch in his jaw.
“It doesn’t matter now,” he said, taking my hand. The one with the ring on it.
We both looked at the sparkling stone.
“Ryan,” I said. “I can’t.”
He dropped my hand immediately.
“What?”
“We can’t get married,” I said, certain he would understand.
“You already said yes,” Ryan said. “In front of everyone. You can’t take it back.”
I was startled. Did he think that a marriage proposal was a binding contract? Did he just want to pretend that nothing had happened between me and Cal? Did he just want to act like it wasn’t real?
Did I?
He was giving me an out. A chance to keep everything the same.
“I cheated on you,” I told him, in case there was some possible way he hadn’t really understood what had happened. “I slept with Cal.”
This time, the muscle in Ryan’s jaw jutted out like he had a piece of gum stuck in there.
“It was a mistake,” he said. “You said so yourself.”
I hadn’t. Cal had.
“I can get over it,” Ryan said.
It wasn’t what I expected. And a part of me was tempted to take the easy out. To accept Ryan’s permissiveness. To agree that it was a mistake.
And it had been, just not in the way that Ryan thought.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t.”
He stared at me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked. “You’re seriously going to throw away everything because of one night with Cal State?”
“It’s more than that,” I said. “I can’t—I don’t think we’re good together.”
His mouth hung open like a broken puppet’s.
“How can you say that? We’re great together. We’ve been on the cover of People, like, three times!” he said. “They’d probably pay for our wedding. Or maybe Rolling Stone. Everyone would want to be a part of it. You and I could make an album—a whole record of love duets, or something. It would be huge.”
I was staring at him.
“You don’t care about Cal?” I asked.
“I care,” he said, and the way he was balling his hands into fists indicated that was true. “But, like, I don’t know. Give me a free pass or something. Where I can do whatever, whoever, I want. Then we’ll call it even.”
I was horrified.
“That’s what you want our marriage to be?” I asked. “What about love?”
Ryan snorted. “Come on,” he said. “This would be incredible for our careers. Isn’t that good enough?”
“No,” I said.
It was the loudest silence I’d ever heard.
“No,” Ryan repeated. “Are you fucking joking?”
I shook my head.
“Wow,” he said. “Wow. Okay. Well, I’m not going to make this offer again.”
I looked down at my ring. At the heavy, beautiful, sparkling diamond.
“I’m sorry, Ryan,” I said.
And I was.
I pulled off the ring and handed it to him. He took it, rolled it around in his palm, and put it in his pocket. The look he gave me wasn’t unlike the one I’d gotten from Cal. Stone-faced. Bitter. Rageful.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. You will be.”
CHAPTER 34
It was the perfect spring day. Fragrant and bright and sunny and wonderful. The kind of day where every breeze seemed to sound like Tom Hanks murmuring, “Don’t cry, Shopgirl.”
I sat across from Cal on the A train. We’d gotten on together, but were acting like we hadn’t. I was on my phone—the beret I’d bought during our ride to Rhode Island had been surprisingly versatile and I was looking for a warm-weather one—while Cal had a book. Every so often I’d glance up at him, and always catch him watching me. I pretended not to notice, but I loved it.
We rode to the end of the line, got off, and—still keeping our distance—walked to the Cloisters. At some point, Cal came up next to me.
“How long are we going to do this for?” he asked.
“Aren’t you having fun?”
“Oh, sure,” he said. “I love spending a day with someone by pretending I’m not spending the day with them.”