the urge to hug him. I take an inventory instead. He looks smaller somehow, more jittery. He’s all bruised up, and there’s a bandage on his head. A large chunk of his hair is missing where they had to shave it. There are dark purple moons beneath his eyes that suggest he hasn’t been sleeping. Maybe his pain meds aren’t as good as mine.
He walks slowly, gingerly, to the chair across from me, and I don’t miss the way he winces as he sits down. Jayla comes and sits next to me, and I give her a look that makes her roll her eyes.
“I’m gonna go make lunch,” she says. I know how much she hates him for this, and I know how much effort it takes for her to give us space. Jayla has been my rock, through the tears for the audition and even the tears for Ridley. I don’t know which I cried harder for, anyway.
It feels like the silence stretches forever, but we’re not even back from the commercial break yet. Ridley hangs his head, and every molecule in my body is begging to touch him, to hug him, to kiss his lips. I want things to be okay, but they never will be, and it’s just as much my fault as it is his. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a breath.
“I know you need time and space,” he says. “I know that the rest of our lives might not even be enough time and space for you. I am so sorry for putting you in this position, and I’m not going to make it worse by asking for your forgiveness. I just came by because I’m leaving tomorrow, and it didn’t feel right to go without letting you know.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking a shuddering breath because why is this so hard? Why does it feel like I’m dying, or will die, or have died without him?
“Don’t,” he says. “But thank you for trying to help me. For trying to be there for me. I’m sorry that you got hurt because of it.”
I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry too. Doesn’t change anything.
“I love you, Peak,” he says, and then holds up his hands when I open my mouth to speak. “You don’t have to say anything. I know what I did. But I’m so glad that you exist, and that you’re you. Because you showed me there’s more to this life than I thought. That it’s worth trying to figure out.” He takes a deep breath, and I look away.
“Where are you going?” I ask, praying it’s not back to Washington with that thing he calls a mother.
“I need help, Peak. I’m staying with Grayson in Boston for a while. She found this place that specializes in this kind of stuff, and there are horses,” he says, and I can tell it’s hard for him to spit it out.
“Horses?”
“I don’t really know.” He ducks his head. “I don’t know why I led with horses. There’s just—” He runs his hands over his face, letting them linger on his mouth, as he looks to the ceiling. “There are people there who can help me figure this stuff out. Because the way that you make me feel, I want to be able to feel it on my own too. I know it’s selfish, but god, Peak, I am so fucking glad I met you.”
“Ridley.” My heart is breaking, and he’s saying everything right, and it would be so easy for me to give in to this feeling, but so wrong of me to ask him to stay.
He looks up, his eyes piercing mine.
“I want that for you,” I say, “so much.” And he shuts his eyes and nods.
We sit there for a while, until his phone goes off. He pulls it out with a sigh. “Gray’s outside. She got the rest of my stuff from my dad’s. I didn’t want to go back there, you know?” He stands up and walks over, brushing his thumb gently down my injured arm. This time when he kisses me goodbye, I don’t try to stop him. I don’t beg him to stay or ask to go with him.