“Alright, kid, what’s going on?” My dad shifted in his chair in my mom’s hospital room, and gave me a long look.

“What?”

I flinched, and tried to make it look like I’d just been stretching. It was late on a Sunday night, and I was exhausted. I’d spent the whole day at my internship and probably would have just gone home, if my dad hadn’t insisted I come to see him and my mom.

“I asked what’s going on. And before you say ‘nothing,’ just remember I’ve known you since you were in diapers. I know what you’re like when you’re hurting and trying to pretend you’re not. This is the first time you’ve been out here in weeks. You’re avoiding something, and I want to know what it is.”

I glanced over at my mom. “It’s hard to explain. Do we have to do this now? Could we wait until later?”

“And give you a chance to worm your way out of this conversation?” My dad fixed me with a flat stare. “Nick, I’ve been waiting for two months for you to decide you were ready to talk about whatever’s going on, but it’s clear you’re not going to do it on your own. Now tell me—is it your mom?

“Dad it’s not—”

“I know it’s not always easy on you,” my dad went on. “Your mother being like this.”

“Seriously, Dad, do we have to do this here?”

“Yes, we do. And don’t tell me not to talk about this in front of her—your mother would be saying the same thing, if she were in my position. Now, like I said, I know it hasn’t been easy on you. It’s been a rough year, with her health scare. I can understand the urge to distance yourself a bit. But no matter how hard you try to steel yourself for whatever comes next, it’s never going to be easy. And pulling away in the meantime isn’t going to help.

“Dad—God, no,” I said, horrified at the thought—and then horrified that my dad thought that was why I’d been so absent. “No, it’s not that.”

“Okay.”

My dad’s voice was skeptical, but he just took a sip of coffee from the paper cup he’d filled out in the lobby, and waited, like he hadn’t just suggested I was avoiding my mom because I was preparing for her to—I didn’t even want to think about it.

But that was my dad. Always direct, and never one to shy away from a topic just because it might be uncomfortable. Never afraid to tell the truth.

He was braver than I was.

“I’ve just been really busy. This internship. Finishing school. Trying to figure out what I want to do after I graduate.” I tried to take a sip of my own coffee just as casually.

“And the boyfriend?” my dad added with a wry smile.

“The—the what?” I choked on my coffee and set the cup down hastily.

“You left your boyfriend out of that list.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I forced my voice to stay even. As even as I could manage, anyway.

“So maybe that’s not what you two call each other, but you know who I’m talking about.” My dad arched an eyebrow. “That blond kid, the cute one you brought here sometimes. Don’t try to tell me there’s nothing going on there.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. I hadn’t realized my dad paid that much attention. He had met Eli, but he’d never asked any questions about our relationship. I’d been grateful for that. Until now.

“I know the beginning of a relationship can be exciting,” my dad said. “And maybe being around your mom makes things feel a little sad. It’s okay if you need some space, for a while. I know your mom would understand. I just wish you wouldn’t clam up so tightly that I have to guess what’s going on inside your head.”

“Dad, no, it’s—I mean, I appreciate that, but Eli and I aren’t—we’re not—”

Suddenly I was choking again, but not on my coffee. Saying it aloud to Ben and Adam hadn’t made it any easier to say a second time.

“It’s not the beginning,” I whispered, finally. “It’s the end.” I looked up at my dad. “It’s over.”

“Ah, kid.” My dad leaned forward and patted my shoulder as I buried my face in my hands. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not easy, dealing with breakups. Even harder when it’s not your choice.”

“I ended it,” I said, tears leaking down my cheeks now. “It was my choice, and it’s my fault.”

“Oh.” My dad sounded surprised, but he didn’t move his hand away. “Well, that’s a little different. But also, not. It’s never easy when a relationship ends.”

“Can I—can I tell you something?” I asked, looking at my dad through my tears.

“Anything. You know that.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to hate me.”

“I’m not going to hate you. No matter what.”

“Even if I did something pretty bad?”

“Even if you did something terrible.” My dad smiled gently. “I might not understand it, I might not condone it, but I’m always gonna love you. Nothing’s going to change that.”

I closed my eyes again. I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to spill everything, but I desperately needed absolution, the kind I couldn’t get from my friends. I wasn’t sure if I wanted my dad to tell me I wasn’t a horrible person, or if I wanted confirmation that I actually was. But I knew I needed to tell him.

“Eli was—he was a lot younger than me,” I said. “He was 19 when we met. 20 now, but this past year, he—he was a senior in high school.”

“Oh. Okay.” My dad’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t say anything else. He just waited for me to go on.

“I didn’t know how old he was when we first met. Once I did, I tried to end things, but I wasn’t actually able to. I just—I loved him. Love him. And I couldn’t make myself stop, no matter how much I tried.”

“That’s certainly hard.”

“But he was leaving for college this fall. Out of state. And I knew I had to end things. I didn’t want to hold him back. But he didn’t take it well. And I—” I broke off, trying to breathe around the sobs I felt trapped in my chest. “Obviously I didn’t either. I hurt him. So badly. And now I’m just so lost. I don’t know how to get over him, I don’t know what I’m doing in school, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when I’m done, and I’m just—I’m just a wreck.”

My dad rubbed a circle on my back.

“I’m sorry. That’s a lot to be dealing with.” He paused. “Have you heard from Eli at all? Have you two talked to each other?”

“No,” I said miserably. “No. Because what’s the point of ending things if I just go back and talk to him and keep him from moving on?”

“Are you sure he is moving on? Last I saw of that guy, he was looking at you like you’d hung the moon. If you’re this much of a mess, I can’t imagine he’s taking it much better.”

“But he has to move on. It doesn’t matter what I want. I never should have been with him in the first place. The last thing I’m going to do is fuck up his future.”

“Hey now, that’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” my dad said. “I’m sure what you guys had was important, and good, for both of you.”

“He wasn’t just in high school, Dad. He was in that youth group I was an advisor for, last fall. I didn’t know it when I met him, and I didn’t—we didn’t start dating until after I’d stepped back from that role. But that’s still such a breach of trust. All those people I was lying to, people who were counting on me to—”

“Hey, before you start going down a guilt spiral here,” my dad said, squeezing my shoulder gently, “will you let me say one thing?”

“What?” I looked up at him, helpless.

“Was it an ideal situation, how you met? No. And are you feeling guilty about it now? Sure. Do you need to come clean to some people about what happened? Yeah, you probably do. But—and I mean this, Nicholas—all that is completely separate from what you had with Eli. If your relationship meant something to you, which it clearly did, then don’t you think that’s worth hanging onto, regardless of the circumstances that it started in?”

“But he’s 20. He’s starting college. He needs to be exploring, and meeting new people. I can’t be holding him back.”

“Who says you’d be holding him back?”

“Dad, he’s just a kid.”

“I hate to break it to you, but to someone my age, you’re just a kid, too.”

“When I met him, he told me he’d wanted to go to Wrenville College—the place he ended up getting into—for years. But by the time the summer rolled around, he was talking about transferring so he could go to school in the city and be closer to me.”

“People change, son. You just said Eli needs a chance to grow and change. Sounds like maybe part of him growing is him realizing he wanted to be closer to you.”

“I can’t believe you’re on his side on this,” I said, astounded. “I don’t have anything to offer except student loan debt and low-paying job prospects if I can even find one, which I probably won’t, because I actually kind of suck at the job I’m training for. And as long as Mom’s here, I’m not going anywhere. That’s just how it is. But I can’t let Eli stay with me and miss out on opportunities now only to resent me down the road. I’d rather hurt him now than let things continue and—and—”

“And let him hurt you?”

“No, that’s not—that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” My dad gave me a level look. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think all this stuff about wanting to do the right thing for Eli is hogwash. I think you’re in love with him, and you’re scared you’re not going to be enough for him. And so you’re pushing him away.”

“That is not what I’m doing.”

“You sure about that? Because it sounds to me like you’re terrified of getting hurt. You love Eli, and that scares you. You’re afraid you’re going to lose him, and you don’t like being out of control—”

“That’s really not—”

“—And so you’re trying to pretend you don’t have any feelings, so you don’t have to risk feeling any painful ones,” my dad continued, running right over my objections. “Only it doesn’t work like that. If you want to love people at all, you have to risk getting hurt. If your heart weren’t at risk, it wouldn’t be real love.”

My dad’s words cut right through me and my defenses. And when those defenses fell, all that was left behind was something tiny, and fragile, and soft, right at my core. Something that was tired of hurting.

“He’s too good for me,” I whispered. “He’s so smart and so funny and talented and perfect and he’s way too good for me. What do I do when he finally realizes that, and wants to walk away?”

“Well, right now, nothing, because you’re not even giving that a chance to happen,” my dad said drily. “But if you got back together somehow? Yeah, there’s a chance he’d want to leave, maybe. But there’s also a big chance he wouldn’t. A chance that you’d stay together. And that kind of happiness—it’s worth the risk.”

I looked over at my mom and that soft, squishy thing inside of me swelled up.

“I’ve been so ashamed,” I said slowly. “I messed everything up, I’ve lied to everyone. I think I didn’t want to come visit because I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried, Nick. Or your mother.” My dad smiled. “Everything you do, you do out of kindness. Because you’re trying to help people. Maybe you don’t always get it right—none of us do. But you’re always trying, and we know that.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I said, my voice broken. “I’ve never felt so alone.”

My dad rubbed my back again. “It’s okay to need people. To ask for help. You know that right?”

“Yeah, no, I know. I just—”

“I’m not sure you do know.” My dad shook his head. “Your whole life, you’ve always let people lean on you. But you seem so scared of ever needing to lean on someone yourself. It’s like you’re trying to close yourself off from that, somehow.”

I looked from my mom to my dad, then back again.

“But when you lean on people, it only makes it harder when you lose them.”

I was really crying now. Not just tears trickling down my cheeks. Full on, body-shaking, red-faced, snot-nosed crying. And not just about Eli. It was like I could feel every loss I’d ever felt in my life, feel the weight of all of them on my heart. I was so tired of trying to be brave. Of trying to pretend it didn’t hurt.

“Oh, kid. You never know when you might lose someone, but that’s no reason not to love.” My dad smiled over at my mom “Some people say there’s always pain in love. But if you ask me, it’s life that’s painful—and love that makes that pain bearable. Pain’s inevitable. Love isn’t. But pain doesn’t erase love. It doesn’t make you regret loving in the first place.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “I don’t know how to talk to him. It’s been so long. He must hate me by now.”

“I suppose that’s possible. It’s also possible that he doesn’t. But are you going to let that fear stop you? Are you going to keep letting it control what you do? Or are you going to let love be the thing that guides you? Are you going to actually give it a chance?”

I thought about what my dad had said for a long time that night. Maybe Eli hated me now. He certainly had every right to. But even if he did, what was the right thing to do? Or maybe that wasn’t quite the right question to ask. God knows I’d been asking myself that a lot this year, but I wasn’t sure it had gotten me anywhere.

Maybe the better question was this: what choice did love tell me to make?

Fear told me I’d already fucked things up enough. It told me Eli had probably moved on. And that even if he hadn’t, even if we got back together, one day, Eli would wake up and realize he was too good for me.

But I didn’t want to live like that anymore. Love told me that I couldn’t keep closing myself off. That even if it hurt, I had to be willing to be honest, and open. Love told me I had to trust that it was worth it to be vulnerable.

I wasn’t even sure Eli would pick up if I called. But I had to try, didn’t I? I loved him. I loved him, and that was all that mattered.

I leaned over to pick up my phone—and blinked at the message I saw waiting for me. It was from Aisling. My breath caught as I read.

AISLING: Hey Nick. Sorry for texting you out of the blue. I know we haven’t talked in like… ever. I don’t know if you’ve talked to Eli at all this fall, but he hasn’t been doing well, and he finally told me that he’s apparently taking a leave of absence from school. His mom brought him home, because he wasn’t going to any of his classes. Anyway, if he hasn’t told you this, he probably doesn’t want you to know, but I just hate what happened between the two of you, and I know you still care about him, and I thought you should know how he’s doing. So… yeah. That’s that

Oh God. It was my fault—it was all my fault. This was so much worse than I’d ever imagined. Not only had I fucked up Eli’s life so much that he’d stopped going to school, I’d given more ammunition to his parents for thinking there was something wrong with him. Eli would hate that.

With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I texted Aisling back.

NICK: Thanks for letting me know.

AISLING: You’re welcome. I think. I’m not sure I should have told you that, but I’m just worried about him, and I thought you should know

NICK: I don’t want you to be in the middle of this, but I really appreciate you telling me. I do care about him. A lot

I paused for a moment, trying to think of how much I should say.

NICK: I’d like to go see him, if you think that would be okay

AISLING: I honestly don’t know. Whatever you do, just please try not to hurt him anymore?

NICK: I will

NICK: I promise