“It’s there. But I don’t know if it’s the love I feel for the woman I’m going to marry, a girlfriend, a best friend, or even a—”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He was being really open. Maybe more open than he’d been with anyone except Director Armstrong, at least with this stuff. But he didn’t finish the sentence.

“It’s like trying to compose something and skipping out on the vocals or the strings.”

“Percussion would be a better metaphor,” I said.

I didn’t smile as I said it, and Weld didn’t smile as he heard it.

“There’s no workable physical aspect, and I want that aspect.”

I folded my arms. Weld did much the same.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Fuck.

At the other corner of the long conference room, Jeanne was leaving. Precipice and Foil hung back, talking with one another.

Fuck it all. Fuck. Fucking why did this have to be so hard?

Precipice shot me a curious look. Foil walked past him, and for a second I thought she was walking around the table to approach us, interrupting the conversation. She was walking to the window though, still at the far end of the library’s conference room, looking down toward the parking lot, then out at the city. Precipice indicated a portal in the distance, cutting into the sky.

“I’ll make you a deal,” I told Weld.

“Please. Anything you can offer. If I could feel sick, I think I actually would feel sick over this.”

“You tell me before you do anything. You promise me you will, and you keep that promise. Because if you do something like break up with her on impulse it’s going to be worse.”

Weld nodded.

“And I swear, if you tell her the actual reason why, I will tear your arms off.”

“How do I do that?” Weld asked. “I want to communicate, be honest that it’s not all that great, and try more avenues before claiming defeat. Not that there’s many more, but she’s not stupid. She can connect dots, if that’s the big issue we’re wrestling with and then I break up with her without explanation.”

He’d talked about feeling sick, but I was the one who felt that way now.

Poor fucking Sveta.

“The deal,” I said, because I couldn’t answer the question that easily if addressing it directly. “Is that you warn me in advance if you make a decision. I’ll be there for her with ice cream and my shoulders ready to cry on.”

“Okay,” Weld said. “I’m not sure I’m there yet. The decision, I mean.”

“Second part of the deal? Figure out a way that explains it, okay? That makes it not about her lack of a body or physical incompatibility. Because that will annihilate her.”

“Yeah,” Weld said.