Deadly Little Voices (33 page)

“He said it was just a coincidence that he decided to cut his trip short.”

“Really,” I say, suspecting there’s a lot more to it—that Ben must have sensed I was in trouble somehow, and that that was the real reason he decided to come back early. The anniversary of Julie’s death must’ve been beyond difficult for him, must’ve reminded him of what he feels he’s capable of—which is why he pushed me away at the labyrinth.

I zip up my sweatshirt, curious as to whether Ben misses it, or whether he even remembers that I still have it. It’s the same sweatshirt I was wearing that night at the labyrinth—the one I woke up with after being knocked out at Jack’s apartment. I can’t help wondering if it carried my vibe—if that’s how Ben knew I was in trouble and where to find me.

“Ben didn’t really talk much during our last conversation,” Adam says. “Except to say that he’s working on things, working on himself, and that he’ll be back soon enough. But bottom line, he really cares about you.”

“And why are you telling me all of this now?” I ask.

“You mean, why am I burning away any shred of hope that I might actually have of being with you?” he asks.

“Okay…” I feel myself smile.

“Because, like you, I don’t want any secrets.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me,” I say, thinking how hard the truth must’ve been for him to say. But how refreshing it is to hear.

“So, is there anything else I should know about?” I ask. “Any skeletons in your closet, or other secrets I need to know?”

Adam hesitates a moment, as if there might indeed be something else on his mind. But then he unleashes a tiny grin. “No more secrets,” he says.

I move to sit closer to him, almost unable to fully fathom the idea of a relationship without any secrets—a relationship where I don’t have to overanalyze every single solitary syllable because I’m trying to guess the truth.

I rest my head against his shoulder and glance down at the capital
F
’s on my fingernails, knowing that I
am
fearless. And so is Adam.

“So, what now?” he asks, followed by an angst-ridden breath. “Do you want to dump hot chocolate over my head for not telling you everything sooner?”

I hold my cup high, as if ready to call his bluff. Adam closes his eyes in anticipation. But instead, I kiss him full on the lips, reminding myself that I have choices.

And I’m happy to be choosing him.