Yesterday. The kiss. Something that only a demon attack could have dwarfed.

I shook my head, trying not to recall how I’d felt that kiss all the way to my toes. “You have nothing to apologize for. I think . . . I think I was as much to blame. Besides, it was nothing.”

“Nothing?” he asked, looking both surprised and hurt.

“I mean, not nothing,” I amended hastily. “But we were both kind of worked up, and things got crazy, and well, like I said . . . nothing to apologize for.”

“Okay . . . I’m glad you’re not upset. I don’t want there to be anything . . . well, anything bad between us.”

I thought about all the fights and arguments. “Well, I’m not sure we’ve reached that state. I mean, come on, do you think things will ever be normal and friendly between us?”

“Yes,” he said bluntly. “No matter what has or hasn’t happened romantically, I still feel like . . . like there’s something between us . . . like, a connection, I mean. I feel like we’re always destined to be important in each other’s lives.”

You are my life, I thought and promptly looked away, as though he might have heard me. “Do you regret it?” I asked before I realized I had.

“Regret?”

“Ending things.”

I looked back at him, fearing his answer, no matter what it was. “I regret . . . well, I don’t regret saving you from future hurt. I do regret the hurt I’ve caused you . . . if I’d known you’d react and spiral the way you have . . .”

“You can’t take that into consideration,” I said hastily. “That’s not your fault.” I was surprised to be saying that, but it was true. My bad behavior these last months had been my doing.

“I can’t help it. I’ll always worry about you. Like I said, I feel like no matter what, we’re always going to be connected . . . like there’s something bigger than us at work. As it is . . .”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

I stepped forward, never taking my eyes off him. “Tell me.”

“As it is . . .” He shrugged. “Life is easier not dating you. But sometimes . . . it feels incomplete. Like there’s a piece of me missing.”

“And that’s easier?”

“Think of it as winning the lottery and having people waiting on all your needs, but it’s at the cost of, I don’t know, getting your leg amputated.”

“Wow. You should be a writer with that imagery.”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. But you know what I mean.”

Except, I was missing a part of my life and things were harder, not easier. “You at least have Maddie.”

“You have Dante.”

“Dante’s not Maddie, believe me.”

“Fair enough. She’s great . . . I care about her . . . love her . . . I don’t know. It’s all just different.”

Silence fell, but it was comfortable. “Good lord. I can’t believe we’re discussing this rationally.”