Neither of us says anything for a while. I want to tell him that I don’t know how to deal with this. I know he wasn’t cheating – I don’t think he would, no matter what Juliet says. And that even the flirting and the interrupted kiss is as far as it will go, but I still feel shitty about this. The main thing I want to tell him is to just stop. Take a break. Have a little fun. I feel like we’re some sort of old married couple that are like two ships passing in the night due to their hectic work schedules. Mainly his schedule, actually. But I don’t say any of these things. Instead, I sit across from him and pout.

“I’m sorry, Alice,” Tristan finally says. He takes his hands in mine. He stares at me – I feel his gaze burning a hole in my face – until I look up. I see my reflection in his eyes. I also see someone who is at a loss as to what to do. The despondent look in his eyes frightens me.

“I don’t know, Tristan.” I shrug. “You really hurt me, you know. I just felt like a total idiot sitting there, watching you flirt with Kathryn.”

“I wasn’t flirting. We were just laughing over what someone said back in the office.”

“It looked like flirting,” I say. “And then when you kissed…”

Shivers run up my spine. I can’t even handle saying the word.

“We didn’t kiss, Alice. She kissed me. And I didn’t see it coming. And when it happened, I pulled away right away. And I told her that I have a girlfriend and it’s going to stay that way. That I love you.”

“I guess,” I say, sighing.

“But I understand how you feel.” He finally says something I want to hear. Something I’m yearning to hear. “I understand that it was awful for you. Just as it would be for me if you ever…”

Tristan lets his voice drift off. I can see that the thought of it is painful to him too.

He comes closer to me. Takes me into his arms. This time I don’t push him away. I want him close. I want to get over this. Whatever it is. I want to find a way to forgive. He lifts up my head. Slowly, Tristan presses his lips to my cheek. He gives me soft, tiny kisses as if his lips were wings of a butterfly. Cradling my face, he buries his fingers in my hair and brings his lips to mine. I close my eyes and part my lips.

Tristan’s lips are soft. Effervescent. His tongue inside my mouth feels like home. Like finally, we’re somewhere where we belong. He drops his head and tilts mine. I feel his lips run down my neck. His kisses are so soft, the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Somehow we end up in my bedroom. I have no idea where Juliet is, but I also don’t particularly care. I just hope that she doesn’t come home any time soon.

We fall into bed together. Our legs intertwine. His hands caress my shoulders and run down both sides of my body. As we grind against each other, we shed our clothes. My legs open and his intertwine with me.

“Wait, I have to get my wallet,” he mumbles. I nod. He needs to get a condom. We never had unprotected sex. I’ve been meaning to go on the pill, but that requires going to the gynecologist. And I hate doctors, let alone gynecologists. So I’ve been putting it off.

When Tristan’s ready, he plops back next to me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, brushing hair out of my face.

“So you are you,” I say, smiling.

I pull him on top of me and kiss him. His hair falls into my eyes. He comes into me. Slowly, our bodies start to move in sync. His hands slide up and down my body. And I bury my fingernails into his back. I start to moan with pleasure. Our bodies rise and fall with each movement.

“Oh shit!” Tristan says and pulls out of me. “Oh my God, no, no, no.”

I look down. The condom is broken.

“What does this mean?” he asks. “What are we going to do?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Oh my God, you can’t get pregnant.”

“I know! Stop freaking out,” I say. “It’s going to be fine. You didn’t…finish yet. So, the likelihood is probably really small.”

“But there’s still a likelihood,” he says.

“I don’t know.” I shrug.

We sit in bed for a few moments, staring at each other. We both know that the night is over. And there was no way to recover it now. Eventually, I grab my clothes and hand Tristan his.

Later that evening, I meet up with Tristan again in the living room. He’s watching TV, but not really watching. Just flipping through the channels, looking for something to watch.

“There’s nothing good on,” he says.

“Yeah, I know,” I say.

Tristan turns off the TV and grabs a Red Bull out of the refrigerator.

“Isn’t it a little late for Red Bull?” I ask.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I have a lot of Macroeconomics to do. I think I’m going to fail that class.”

“I’m sure you won’t.”

“Can I tell you something, Alice?” he asks and continues without waiting for my answer. “I just feel a lot of pressure. I’m working these crazy hours. And I don’t have time for anything. Not for my classes. Not for you. Not even for work. You know, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do there? I mean, I look at those charts and figures and they just intimidate me. But I pretend that I know what’s going on. And that’s exhausting.”

“I can imagine,” I sympathize.

“And as for going out afterwards. I often don’t want to go. Really. I just want to come home and be with you. And study, though I don’t really want to study.”

“So why don’t you?” I ask.

“Because I hear the way they all talk about other interns who didn’t come along. And how all the full-time people mock them for skipping out. And all those people who didn’t go out with them – well, they’re not working there after graduation. Tim told me that many of them are still struggling to find work six months after finishing college.”

I nod. I want to sympathize. I want to say something that will make him feel better. But nothing comes to mind.

“Tristan, it’s your freshman year of college. You shouldn’t be working so hard. You should have some fun.”

“Alice, I’m talking to you about something serious that I’m going through and you…you just act like it’s nothing. Like what I do doesn’t matter. Don’t you know how that makes me feel?”

I shrug. “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t want to…”

“I know. You never mean it. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve said it.”

I don’t know what’s happening here. How did all of this suddenly become my fault?

“I know you’re working hard. But maybe the internship is just too much. I mean you’re going to an Ivy League school. And it’s your freshman year. You should be able to have some fun, sometime. You’re practically entitled to it.”

“And what makes me entitled to it, exactly?” he asks.

“I don’t know. The fact that you’re 18 years old. If you’re not going to have fun now, when are you going to?”

He shrugs. Drops his shoulders. I run over the conversation in my head. I didn’t mean to get into another fight. Or maybe this is just the continuation of the last one. I don’t know anymore.

I turn around to head back to my room. Everything is still completely unresolved, but I don’t think anything will improve today. It seems to be one of those things that you have to sleep on in order to get a fresh perspective.

“The thing is that, Alice, my life is just so complicated right now,” Tristan says. I guess he wants to keep talking. “I’m torn in all of these directions,” he adds.

“I know,” I say. I come back toward him and put my hand on his shoulder. “You need to take some things off your plate. It’s too crowded.”

“And I want to,” he nods.

I look at Tristan. He looks tired, but close to saying something important. Finally, he’s going to make me a priority. That must be what this is all about. So just come on out with it. Say it.

“So you understand?” he asks.

“I think so.” I nod. “You’re going to try to get out of the internship?”

“Get out of the internship?” he asks. “You don’t really understand at all!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The internship is hard and time-consuming, but it’s also super important. I can’t believe that you still don’t get that. I mean, how many times do I have to tell you?”

I hear anger in his voice.

“Okay, okay.” I get it. “There’s no need to raise your voice. You’re just complaining about it so I thought…”

“So I complain about it. So what? You’re supposed to be supportive. You’re supposed to be understanding about it.”

I shrug. I don’t understand anything that’s going on anymore.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m a little confused with everything right now. That’s why we’re off. Why this is getting so complicated,” Tristan says.

He gestures, pointing to us. What he means is that we’re complicated. We’re off, as a couple.

“I’m confused about everything,” he says again.

“Stop saying that. I don’t know what you mean. Say what you really mean,” I say in my most insistent voice. His metaphor keeps going over my head, leaving me confused.

“I’m confused about us, Alice.”

The words hang in the air as if they are suspended on a string. I stare at him. What’s happening here?

“I think we need to take a break.”

My ears start to buzz. Tristan keeps on talking, explaining, but I don’t hear a thing. Everything turns to black.