Camilla was mortified. 'All I had wanted was to say hello to Dominic, but the pool attendants dragged the presently unused second tower next to his. The buffoons! Now I have to sit with him for a while or else snub their work. And if I sit next to him, he's going to be kind and reassuring, and I'm going to want to grab him by that appalling red zip-up and kiss him.'

So she sat in the tower next to Dominic's.

"Hi, Camilla. You look really pretty today," Dominic said.

No, she didn't. She looked worn and sickly from the withdrawal and probably also cross because everyone suddenly became much more incompetent when she went sober. Still, she found herself smiling. 'He means that.' "That's false, but thank you regardless."

She politely inquired about school. He relayed some recent midterm-stress-fueled incidents that were standard fare at Eden: students asleep in odd places in the library, one student arriving at school in their pajamas at 4am, and a handful of students having breakdowns which deployed the school psychiatry team's crisis unit. He genuinely asked after her treatment. She was, as usual, hesitant to talk about it. It wasn't that she didn't trust Dominic, but addiction treatment got incredibly personal. He wouldn't look at her the same if he knew the details.

Yor's comment from the day before echoed in her head: "Next time you see Dominic, would you please let him know that your distance is not because you hate him? Or if that's too much to ask, a quick kiss would probably pull him out of his doldrums too."

'How irritating.' She took a deep breath and exhaled it loudly like her psychiatrist told her to do when she was scared. "Dominic," she said before the fear cut her off.

He angled his body to face her and took his eyes off the pool which he shouldn't have done as the lifeguard on duty.

"I'm sorry that I pushed you away. I'm sorry that I'm keeping you at a distance."

He waited for a moment hoping that she would explain, but she didn't. "Why are you then?"

"I don't know." That was a big lie, and they both knew it. Camilla Bronson was nothing if not deliberate. "I'm scared."

"Of me?"

"No. I'm scared of what will happen when you know everything."

"I don't understand."

Camilla sighed. "I don't hate you. I'm not trying to punish you. I need you to understand that."

Dominic looked at her the same way he looked at algebra problems: like if he stared long enough, x would find itself. "So you don't hate me, and you regret pushing me away. Remind me: why aren't we still together?"

"The Camilla you dated wasn't real. The real Camilla is a selfish addict who lied to you the entire time we were together. You don't deserve that."

"That's not true!—"

"It is. And your response proves my point: you don't know me at all."

"Then give me the chance to!"

"Dominic."

"Don't say that like I'm being a child. I adore you, Camilla. I always have. I can't imagine a version of you could ever exist that I would feel differently about."

"It's not that simple, Dominic!" She took another deep breath and loud exhale. "There are things you don't know, things that would force you to feel differently." 'And I can't let you hate me for them.'

"Try me."

She felt the tears forming around her bottom lashes. "I can't." She climbed out of the chair and made her exit before he could fully see her cry.

He called after her but couldn't chase her while alone on duty.