The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2)(89)

“Not ask forgiveness, that’s for sure.” She’d never give someone who rejected her a second chance. Would probably stop saying their name. Refuse to even think about them. Ethan wasn’t like her in that respect. He’d thought about her so much since she’d left, it didn’t even feel like thinking anymore. His imagination had grown so vivid, so visceral, she might as well have been sitting at the table with them.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Leah said, shaking her head like when she tried to solve the Sunday crossword.

Ethan couldn’t exactly say the same thing. He’d imagined Naomi dumping him a few times, sharp and brief, but it was never under the guise of self-sacrifice. Never for his own good.

“I mean, it’s really shocking.” Leah drilled her fingers against the table in agitation.

“I guess.” Adding whiskey directly to chocolate milk was probably gross, right? What did they put in White Russians?

Leah took a long swig directly from the bottle, wiping her mouth and wincing from the burn. “It makes more sense that you messed up.”

He raised his head to glower at her. “Me? What did I do?”

Ethan wasn’t desperate to play the victim or anything, but any way he sliced the events of the last twenty-four hours, they still felt like something inflicted upon him.

His sister shrugged. “You let her leave.”

“This is Naomi we’re talking about.” Ethan reached for the whiskey bottle but ended up just holding it. “No one has ever ‘let her’ do anything.”

Leah issued an extremely put-upon sigh. “Ethan, you’re smart, but you’re also Big Dumb.”

“I thought you came over here to make me feel better,” he said, wounded.

“Well”—she waved her hand for him to give back the bottle—“maybe this will finally teach you to stop jumping to conclusions.”

“So you’re just gonna drink whiskey and insult me?” Were all little sisters like this? Forever?

Leah checked her watch. “For at least the next ten minutes probably, yeah.”

Ethan groaned. “She didn’t want a life with me, Leah. Not really. The second that one was laid out in front of her, she threw me back like an undersized fish.”

“That is a vivid metaphor.” She wrinkled her nose. “But also, no, that’s not what happened.”

“Can I at least set a timer for this attack?” Wasn’t there a saying, Bad things come in threes? So at least this should be the last of his excruciating punishments.

“No. You have to listen.” As a tiny mercy, Leah gave him back the whiskey bottle.

Ethan took a sip, letting the burn wake him up. He preferred the chocolate milk.

“I know you thought you were being cute,” Leah said, slow and calm, like he was the one being difficult. “Using that syllabus as guidelines for falling in love or whatever. But”—she threw her arms up—“sometimes there is no map. No plan. And just standing still, staying, is the bravest thing you can do.”

“She didn’t want to stay, Leah, I told you.”

Naomi’s eyes had been bright, almost feverish, as she’d seized on the demise of their relationship like it was the simplest, easiest solution.

“She was so quick to cut everything off.”

Leah’s voice was lower when she said, “She thought she was saving you.”

“What?” The single sip of whiskey had gone straight to his head.

“Ethan, anyone who loves you knows how much Beth Elohim means to you and would want you to keep your position—would probably do whatever they could to make sure you had the opportunity to help as many people as possible.” Leah dropped her gaze to her lap. “Even if it meant losing some of your love.”

He swallowed, throat tight. They weren’t just talking about Naomi anymore. “Leah, I never meant to—”

“I know,” she said, quick to cut him off. “We all know.” She gave him half a smile. “You’re insufferably noble in that way.”

Confirmation of his fears washed over him, but instead of burning like acid the way he’d always expected, it fell like rainwater—surprisingly clear and clean. Acceptance had a funny effect on weakness.

“Mom and I, we’re so proud of you, E. Even when we don’t always get what you’re doing or why. We love you for believing in something bigger than yourself. For wanting to make the world better. For caring so much it’s actually kind of painful to watch sometimes.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “And I’m sure Naomi does too. I’m sure she did what she did out of love, like a fool, and I know that’s why, like a fool, you let her.”

“I let her.” Realization came slowly and then all of a sudden. He’d let his own fears of demanding too much from her muddy his conviction.

“You’ve always struggled to accept that sacrifice is an inherent part of love. That it’s inevitably going to hurt sometimes if you care enough.” Leah took a deep breath. “Think of this experience through the lens of your syllabus. Love, like faith, asks us to be less selfish. Less greedy. It asks us to trust. To sit with our doubts. To keep coming back and proving our commitment.”

“When did you get wise?”