“And then, instead of being upset about it, he just calmly asks me if I have any STIs and tells me that he doesn’t either, and he’s perfectly happy for us not to use condoms. He just fucking says that like we’re having the most normal conversation in the world.”

I looked at Adam helplessly. We’d met up for lunch at Maggie’s and in typical Adam fashion, he’d asked me how things were going with Eli and then refused to let me change the subject until I’d finally told him the whole, sordid truth.

“Hate to break it to you, bud, but having that kind of conversation before you have sex for the first time actually is pretty normal,” Adam said.

“Yeah, except we weren’t talking before having sex for the first time, we were talking because I’m a fucking pervert who just unloaded a bunch of creepy fantasies onto Eli in the middle of an otherwise normal evening. Honestly, how is he not disgusted with me? He should be. And I should be dropped off the nearest bridge with rocks tied to my feet. No—not rocks, actually. Something more shameful. Giant cement dildos, maybe.”

“Might be hard to get those made quickly,” Adam said, chewing on the straw from his water glass. “You sure you’re committed to this idea? I think Eli might be a little upset.”

“Eli doesn’t know what he wants,” I sighed.

“Uh, pretty sure he wants you, dude.”

“Of course he does. Of course he thinks it’s hot that his older boyfriend can’t control himself and poured out a fucking bible’s worth of filth while giving him the world’s most shameful handjob like a goddamn teenager. He is a teenager. But I should know better.”

It was three weeks since that evening at my apartment and I still couldn’t forgive myself. The fact that Eli thought there was nothing to forgive only made it worse. And the fact that I couldn’t stop replaying the night in my head was disgusting—but I did it anyway.

Every inch of Eli’s sweat-slick skin, every gasp, every tremor, had been carefully recorded and stored away to be watched and rewatched over and over. The way he’d whispered my name when he’d come, the way he’d clutched at me, like he needed me to guide him through it. It was all I saw when I closed my eyes. Hell, it was half of what I saw when my eyes were open.

Eli hadn’t pushed us to go there again, but my stomach was twisted in knots anyway. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop him, if he did. I wasn’t sure I didn’t want him to push.

Adam arched an eyebrow. “You don’t think that’s a little…”

“What?” I snapped. “A little what?”

“Arrogant?” Adam finished. “Presumptuous? And kind of a fucked up attitude to have towards someone you’re dating?”

“How is it fucked up? I’m just trying to look out for him.”

“By refusing to do something both of you want?”

“By refusing to take advantage of him. I set those ground-rules because I knew I would need them—because I knew I wasn’t good at controlling myself around him.”

Adam shook his head. “I gotta say, I’m with Eli on this one. You guys love each other. I don’t see what the harm is. But if you’re really determined to feel bad about it, go ahead. You’ve only got a few more weeks til he graduates, and then it’s all a moot point. He’ll be out of high school, and you can stop sneaking around and go live happily ever after, jerking each other off into the sunset.”

I looked down at the table. Happily ever after was everything I wanted—and everything I knew I couldn’t have. Even with the guilt, even with the shame, this had been the best year of my life. The happiest I’d been since—well, since before my mom got hurt. But it had to end. Eli was going to go off to college in just a few months. And we couldn’t be together when he left.

“Nick?”

I looked up and met Adam’s eyes. I could see the disappointment in them already.

“Do not fucking tell me that you’ve come up with some bullshit excuse for why you can’t have that, too.”

“It’s not an excuse,” I said softly. “It’s the truth.”

“Jesus, Nick, I know you’re the king of self-abnegation and everything, but that’s truly stupid.” Adam stared at me incredulously. “Why the hell can’t you guys be together?”

“Because he’s leaving. He’s going to college, and I can’t hold him back.”

“Again, I doubt he’d see it that way.”

“But he’s only 19. He thinks what he wants is me, but that’s because he doesn’t know any better. He hasn’t seen enough of the world, or met enough people. I mean, come on, how many people our age do you know who still want what, or who, they wanted at age 19?”

“Um. Me?” Adam gave me a level look. “Are you forgetting the seven years I spent head over heels for Ben?”

“Fine, then you’re the exception that proves the rule. You guys are soulmates and it’s perfect and sweet and amazing, but it’s not something everybody can expect.”

Adam frowned. “You don’t think Eli could be your soulmate?”

My stomach tightened at the question. It didn’t matter, though, whether he was or not.

“I know that I’m not his,” I said. “He’s going to leave and start a program he’s been dying to get into. He needs a chance to actually grow and learn and change and do all the things he hasn’t had a chance to do yet. And I’m—I’m a fucking mess. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, I’m still not even done with school, and I have no idea what to do when I am.”

“Dude, I don’t think he cares about that stuff.”

“Maybe not yet, but he will someday. And I can’t be this millstone around his neck, holding him down.”

I struggled to articulate a thought, something I’d realized the night Eli had come to visit me at the hospital and met my mom. I could still see the way he’d smiled, nervous but determined not to show it, his hair glowing in the lamplight. He’d been so good with her, and it meant the world to me that he’d come. I knew she would have loved him, just like I did.

But the thought of that being his future? Being trapped in suburban New Jersey, never truly able to leave? Asking him to shoulder that heavy sadness, never knowing what might happen to my mom in the future, but knowing there was no hope she’d ever get better?

“Eli wants to travel. He wants to explore. And I can’t offer that. All I can give him is a sad, quiet life stuck in the tri-state area. I can’t let him throw away his future.”

I didn’t want that for him. I wanted Eli to go and live this great, huge life, splashed across the universe and the stars. I wanted him not to come back to New York for a decade because he was too busy living, writing, meeting the world and wrestling it to the ground. I wanted him to finally drift through the city again because he was winning some award, or some book of his was getting adapted on Broadway, and for him to not even look me up, but just to smile if he ever saw someone selling animal hats on the street.

“He’s already talking about how he’s not sure he wants to go to his dream school, just because of how far away it is.”

“Maybe he means it,” Adam pointed out. “Maybe he’s realizing it’s a big deal to be away from your friends and family, if you’ve grown up in one place all your life.”

“Or maybe he’s ready to waste his life on me. Getting into Wrenville is all he’s wanted for years, and suddenly he’s considering not going? I’m the only thing that’s changed in his life. But I’m not going to let him ruin it because of me.”

Somehow, I had to find the strength to end it. To make sure Eli wasn’t still thinking about me when he left. Honestly, the sooner the better, if I could just figure out how.

The night we’d found out Eli had gotten into Wrenville, I’d known what I was supposed to do—what I needed to do. But what had I actually done? I’d held him in my arms all night, then got coffee and donuts before he even woke up, so we could eat breakfast in bed. Instead of ending it, I’d kissed powdered sugar off his nose, then gotten into a tickle fight when Eli crumbled a donut down the back of my shirt.

“You know what I think?” Adam said. “I think your whole relationship has been an exercise in you trying to put up walls and erect barriers to keep the two of you from being together. And now you finally have the chance to be that—to be together, with no complications or guilt or hiding anything, and you can’t even handle that.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just trying to do the right thing for Eli.”

“By breaking his heart?”

“By letting him go. He’ll get over me. It might take a little while, but he will, and it’ll be for the best.”

Adam made a disgusted noise in his throat. “You keep saying you’re helping Eli out. But what about you? What’s the best for for you, Nick?”

“I’ll—I’ll be fine. Somehow.”

I didn’t want to think about me. This wasn’t about me—it was about Eli, and doing what was best for him. It didn’t matter what I felt. Because if I thought about that, if I listened to what my heart was saying, I’d never be able to say goodbye.

God, I loved him. How was I ever going to let him go?

“Do you really have to?” Adam said, and I blinked, not realizing I’d said that last sentence aloud. “Like, yeah, you have all these reasons, but have you ever considered that maybe you’re full of shit?” Adam held his hands up defensively when I glared at him. “I’m not trying to be an asshole here, I’m just saying, speaking as someone who lied to himself for years—”

“Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that already? Thousands of times?” I shook my head. “Don’t you think I’ve tried to find some way to justify not having to end things?” I lay my hands on the table, helpless. “You only get one life, you know? And Eli’s is just starting. I don’t want him to be stuck here, with me, with all my baggage. He’s meant for more than that. If I don’t end things, I’ll only be hurting him.”

“You don’t think you’ll hurt him if you do end things?” Adam gave me a serious look. “Because let’s be clear here. That guy is In. Love. With. You. You will destroy him if you break up with him.”

I closed my eyes to block out the image that arose, Eli staring at me uncomprehending, hurt, as I tried to explain why things had to end. There was no way he’d understand. No way he’d believe me.

No way I wouldn’t be ripping his heart out.

And it would hurt me, too. God, it would hurt me. But it had to be better than the alternative, didn’t it? Because it would hurt so much more if I let it stretch out longer.

“If I don’t do it, I’ll be doing permanent damage,” I whispered.

Adam sighed. “I don’t know what to say, Nick. I still think this is dumb. And cruel. And patronizing, too, making all these decisions so convinced you know what’s best for Eli. But if you really think you have to do it—”

“I do—”

“—then I guess there’s nothing else to say. I don’t support this, but I’ll be here for you when you inevitably feel terrible and hate yourself and try to withdraw again.”

He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a small smile, but I couldn’t quite make myself smile back. What he’d said was too real.

No matter what I did, this was going to hurt. I just hoped I was strong enough to do it anyway.