His words prickle like tiny shards of ice, because he’s wrong. There are still so many things I’m hiding. I lie to him all the time. I’m lying right now.

I love Oliver too much to give him all of me. These broken parts, the parts I hate the most, I’ll bury away, sweep under dirt, hide from him as long as I can. Maybe this will be my life’s work: becoming someone who deserves him.

“It’s over now.” Another lie. “He couldn’t give me the answers I needed. I can’t imagine I’ll ever have to see him again.”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “It’s very clearly not over.” I’ve never seen this look on his face before. His mouth is turned down into half a frown, his nostrils flaring.

“Is this a fight? Are you trying to have a fight with me right now?”

He throws his hands up in front of him. It’s a desperate gesture for Oliver, who is usually so buttoned up. “I don’t know how to get you to let me in! How do I convince you to share things with me? Do you not see how maddening this is? I cannot love you if you don’t let me know you!”

Something inside me shrinks. I feel sticky and sick all over. I want to bite the inside of my cheek so hard it bleeds. I want to stop speaking forever until I can guarantee I’ll only ever say perfect words.

I tilt my head to the ground so he doesn’t see my tears fall.

I tense. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this would be such an inconvenience.”

“This is exactly what I’m speaking of! You don’t have to martyr yourself! It doesn’t make you easier to be around, it makes it more difficult.”

It feels like a compromise to feed him this half-truth. I’ll rip select pages out of this story for him to know. There’s no reason he should be burdened with the whole thing.

I don’t speak, so Oliver fills the silence. “Why didn’t you say anything about the letter last year? We could have handled it together.”

“Because it was nothing. There was nothing to say about it.”

“You know that’s bullshit!”

I’ve never heard him curse before. He used to scold William for it.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“You have to let me in.” He leans forward and catches both my hands in his, clutching at them hard.

“I don’t want to be difficult to love, Oliver. I’m not doing this on purpose.”

“That’s the exact opposite of what this conversation is. God, don’t you see how impossible you make it to speak with you?”