The Match (Wilde, #2)(90)

Memphis. That was where the Bennett family had lived before their sudden move to the middle of Pennsylvania. He heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. It was nearly midnight. He moved to the window.

It was Laila.

He waited for her to get out of the car. She didn’t. Not right away. Was someone with her? He couldn’t see. Wilde watched for another few seconds. Then, feeling as though he were intruding on her privacy, he turned away.

“I better go,” he told Matthew.

“Don’t do that,” Matthew said.

“What?”

“Run away.”

“I’m trying to make it easier on her.”

“You’re not. You’re just being a chickenshit.” Matthew rose. He was taller than Wilde now. He looked like his father. He looked like a man too. When did that happen? Matthew put his hand on Wilde’s shoulder. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“I’m going upstairs,” Matthew said. “You stay.”

Matthew flicked off the television and trudged up, closing his bedroom door behind him. Wilde stayed. Five minutes later, Laila came in through the front door. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were red in a way that suggested recent tears. She also looked, as Laila always did, stunning. That was the thing with Laila. Every time Wilde saw her, he was still struck anew by how beautiful she was, like it was a surprise, like he could never quite comprehend or conjure it, and so every time he first laid eyes on her, there was a little catch in his throat.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

He wasn’t sure what to do—hug her, kiss her—so not wanting to do the wrong thing, Wilde just stood there. “If you want to be alone…” he began.

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to be here?”

“I do.”

“Good,” Laila said. “Because I broke it off with Darryl tonight.”

Wilde said nothing.

“How does that make you feel?” Laila asked him.

“The truth?”

“Do you usually lie to me?”

“Never.”

“So?”

“Happy,” Wilde said. “Selfishly yet deliriously happy.”

She nodded.

“Your eyes are red,” he continued.

“So?”

“Were you crying?”

“Yes.”

Wilde stepped toward her. “I don’t want you to cry. I don’t ever want you to cry again.”

“You think you have that power?”

“No. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”

Laila kicked off her heels. “Do you know what I realized tonight?”

“Tell me.”

“I keep trying to force the round peg into the square hole. I’ve always bought into the belief that I needed a life partner, a man by my side, someone to share my life with and travel with and grow old with, all that stuff. I had that with David, but he’s dead now. So I try to find that with someone else, but…” Laila stopped and shook her head. “It’s not meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. That’s the thing. Tonight I realized I’m okay with that.”

Wilde stepped toward her. “I love you.”

“But you can’t be here all the time either.”

“I can,” he said. “I will.”

“No, Wilde, that’s not what I want. Not anymore. That would still be trying to put the round peg in a square hole.” She sighed and sat on the couch. “So here is what I’m proposing. You listening?”

Wilde nodded.

“You and I continue to be together when we can. Come over when you want, stay at your Ecocapsule when you want.”

“Isn’t that what we have now?”

“Are you happy with what we have now?” she asked.

He almost said, If you are, but Matthew’s words echoed in his ears. “I want more,” he said.

Laila smiled, really smiled—and when she did, he felt his heart thump-thump and something rise up in his chest. “Do you want to hear the rest of my proposition?”

“More than you know.”

“What’s got into you, Wilde?”

“Just tell me what you’re proposing.”

“We become a couple. I’m not going to make a lot of demands, but if we are going to do this, I have a few.”

“Go on.”

“You can’t just vanish on me like you’ve been doing.”

“Okay.”

“I’m tired of pretending that doesn’t hurt. If you freak out or you need to run away—if you have to disappear into the woods or whatever—you have to tell me first.”

“Deal. I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t think—”

Laila held up her hand. “Apology accepted, but I’m not done.”

Wilde nodded for her to continue.

“You and I are exclusive. Nobody else. If you still want to play around—”

“I don’t.”

“I know you like to go to that hotel bar—”

“No,” Wilde said. “I don’t want to do that.”