I balked. “Well, no . . . not exactly. But you guys deserve each other. You deserve to be happy. And you aren’t ever going to be happy with me. It’s going to always be up and down—just like before.”

“I’m starting to think all relationships are like that,” he said wearily. “I still don’t want to hurt you. I can’t stand that—I can’t forget what Hugh said, about how that would destroy you. And yet . . . something keeps pulling us back. I told you—we’re never going to be able to stay apart.” I knew exactly what he meant, but I didn’t say so. “I thought ending things before would fix all that, that the short-term pain would be worth the long-term stability. But I was wrong. We just found a whole new set of problems, and Maddie’s in the middle. I’m willing to try again . . . no matter how hard it is.”

“You were right to end it with us,” I said harshly. “And I’m not willing to do it again.”

He stared at me, shocked. My words were a lie, of course. Part of me wanted to try again, to endure anything to be with him. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Maddie. Couldn’t stop thinking about the hurt she would go through. It was ironic, really. Last time, he’d gone out of his way to hurt me purposely because it was for the greater good. Now I was doing the same for both of them, saving her from heartache and him from more grief with me. We were in an endless cycle.

“You can’t mean that. I know you can’t.” His face was a mixture of incredulity and pain.

I shook my head. “I do. You and me are a disaster. What we did during this stasis . . . it was wrong. It was disgraceful. Immoral. We betrayed someone who loves both of us, who wishes nothing but the best for us. How could we do that? What kind of precedent is that? How could we expect to have a solid relationship that was built on that sort of sordid foundation? One that was built on lies and deceit?” Saying those words hurt. It was tarnishing the beauty of these precious few days we had, but I needed to make my case.

Seth was silent for several moments as he assessed me. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.” I was a good liar, good enough that the person who loved me most couldn’t tell. “Go back to her, Seth. Go back to her and make it up to her.”