Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(91)

He starts to walk to his room, and I’m not even sure if he wants me following him, but he pulls out his chair by his desk and then he sits on his bed. That’s as good an invitation as I’m going to get.

“How are things?” I ask.

“Things are things,” Hudson says.

Really starting to feel like I came here for nothing. “Should I just go?”

“You do what you want,” Hudson says. “Or don’t want.”

“So you’re still upset about Harriett’s birthday,” I say.

“You mean when you turned your back on us when we were trying to fix things with you?”

“I wouldn’t say either of you were trying particularly hard.”

Hudson crosses his arms, definitely a little defensive. But we didn’t have to touch any of this. I came here because of my business and he made a big deal about the past as if my crimes were bigger than his. He’s the one who cheated on me. And he’s still the one who gets to be happy in a new relationship, while my love life is a train wreck.

“So Arthur still loves you,” Hudson says.

“Apparently.”

“And you had no idea?”

“Not really. Arthur and Mikey seemed really perfect for each other.”

“In what way?”

“They geek out over Broadway—”

“Liking the same stuff doesn’t mean someone is perfect for you. It means you like the same stuff and that makes them good company.” Hudson’s whole vibe is duh. “You mentioned that you’re thinking about moving to Los Angeles with your boyfriend.”

“Mario’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not your boyfriend.” It’s not even a question. Hudson is stating the fact and it stings even more. “You see what’s wrong with that.” Again, not a question.

I take a deep breath. “We want to give it a shot.”

“I feel like Dylan has gotten it into your head that everyone our age is supposed to have some epic love story.”

“Well, Dylan and Samantha are getting married and having a baby.”

Hudson laughs.

“I’m not joking.”

“I know,” Hudson says. “That’s so ridiculous. Dylan really dragged that poor girl into his insanity.”

“They’re really happy. It’s real for them. Just like it was for his parents.”

“There’s no guarantee they’re going to turn out like his parents.”

“He doesn’t want to be like his parents. He wants to be with Samantha.”

“Ben, you sound like you have your answers already. If you want to take a risk, move to California with your buddy and prove me wrong. If you want to be with Arthur, be with Arthur.”

This is not what I wanted out of this. I wanted some maturity. Hudson has taken some accountability, but he could also not give a shit whether I leave New York or stay. “Hudson, you’re the only other person I’ve dated. You were my first love and that was real for me. I don’t know how it was for you, but everything hurt so much. But I was able to move on and you did, too. That’s great—I’m not trying to hang out with you and Rafael, but I’m not bothered by you guys.”

“Because you have your choices now?”

“Because I want to keep it real.”

I get up, not finding any of this helpful.

“Ben, it was for real for me, too,” Hudson says. “It doesn’t stop me from loving anyone else, or even getting excited about anyone else, but it was real. I still feel really shitty about how it ended. Cheating on you was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I just made a bad fucking choice, and I’ve always regretted it. But I have to live with it now.”

“That’s kind of what I’m scared of. What if I make the wrong choice? I don’t want to live with regrets.”

“It’s not the same thing, though,” he says. “It’s not like cheating or not cheating. There’s not an objectively bad choice here. You just have to figure out what you actually want.”

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Hudson laughs flatly, shaking his head. “You’re going to hurt someone! That’s just how it is sometimes, and it sucks, but what’s the alternative? Never make a real choice? Close yourself off completely? You have to be honest, at least with yourself. Ben, I learned that from you. Just be real! Either tell Arthur you’re moving on, or tell Mario to move on without you.” He gets up and walks toward me, and I think he’s about to hug me. But instead he takes my hand and looks me in the eyes. “You’re the writer, Ben. If you could write your perfect ending, what would it be?”

Someone is going to get hurt.

It really took hearing that from my cheating ex-boyfriend for that message to sink in.

No matter how many times I’ve put Ben-Jamin and the crew through the wringer, the pain I’m about to deliver tonight is far worse than any seven-headed monster or magical fire. This will be real.

I’ve always hated the love-triangle trope—probably because I always thought of myself as the person who wouldn’t get chosen. Now I’m someone with choices. Two incredible choices. I’m honestly tempted to not choose either of them, so we can all be alone and miserable together. But then three hearts get broken for nothing. That’s pretty bad math in my book.