I loved Gabriel. And I loved Ricky. It wasn’t the same, but it wasn’t different enough, either, not as different as it should have been, not as different as I wanted it to be. That twisted and burned. I wasn’t this person. I’d never been this person. I gave myself to one man at a time, and I never so much as looked in another direction—and now that one acknowledged truth had been warped. I was still fiercely loyal—to two men. Two men I loved. Two men I’d do anything for. Give anything to protect.

That was fickle. It was selfish. It was wrong. And it wasn’t fair to the guy who thought he had all of me, committed and faithful in every way.

I would never cheat on Ricky. If Gabriel had given some sign that he wanted more, had leaned over and kissed me, I’d have pulled back and said no. What mattered was that I wouldn’t want to say no.

Even if a romantic relationship with Gabriel wasn’t an option, I had to choose: break it off with Ricky or commit myself to him. Work with Gabriel, yes. Be his friend, yes. Sit on a beach, drinking and talking, for half the night? No. That was where I went too far.

The realization that I had to make that choice should have been like falling into the cold water of Lake Michigan. I should have staggered to my feet, blurted some excuse, and escaped, fleeing this perfect evening as fast as I could.

I didn’t. The realization came hard and painful but bittersweet, too, as if I’d been mentally picking my way across the rocks for weeks now, this destination in view, getting ever closer until I reached it, dreading it a little, but knowing I had to get there. I had Gabriel—really had him—for those few hours, and maybe after tonight I’d choose to step back and I’d never have this again, and if that was the case, then I was grabbing it with both hands and hanging on while I could.

When I started yawning, I stifled it, but eventually Gabriel noticed.

“We should think about getting back,” he said.

I nodded, and we did nothing more about it for at least an hour, talking instead about college, which subjects we’d liked and those we’d gritted our teeth through. Finally, yawning wasn’t enough. My eyelids were flagging.

“Let’s get you back,” he said. “You spent last night in my office. You shouldn’t spend this one on the beach.”

I wanted to say I’d be fine with that, but as the alcohol slid from my bloodstream, I knew I shouldn’t. If I’d come to the realization that something needed to change, I couldn’t start by spending the night with Gabriel, however innocently.