JENNIE

Here I am, here we are, in this endless loop of happiness, lust, passion, overwhelming love, and pain. The pain seems to win, it always wins, and I'm tired of fighting.

I watch, forcing myself not to care, as she crosses the room. The moment the door closes, I smack my hands to my forehead and rub at my temples. What is wrong with me that I can't seem to see anything but her?

Why did I wake up this morning ready to face life without her, only to find myself in her bed hours later?

I hate that she has this power over me, but for the life of me I can't stop it. I can't blame her for my weakness, but if I was going to, I would have to argue that she makes it difficult to see the clear lines of right and wrong.

When she smiles at me, those lines blur and mix and it's literally impossible to fight the sensation that pulls at my whole body.

She makes me laugh just as often as she makes me cry, and she makes me feel again when I was convinced that my fate was the nothingness inside me. I fully believed that I would never feel anything again, but Lisa pulled me out of that; she grabbed my hand when no one else seemed to care enough to do so, and she pulled me up onto the surface.

Not that any of this changes that we just can't be together. We simply don't work, and I can't allow myself to get my hopes up again, only to be crushed when she pulls back again, when she takes back everything she has confessed, and I refuse to be ripped apart, again and again, by the only hand that helps me.

Here I am, face in hands, obsessively overthinking the mistakes made—

my mistakes, her mistakes, our parents' mistakes—and how mine seem to be eating away at me, refusing to allow me any peace.

I got a hint of it, a hint of serenity and calm when her hands were on me, her mouth hot on mine, her fingers digging into the sensitive skin covering my hips, but minutes later the fire's extinguished, and I'm alone.

I'm alone and hurt and embarrassed, and it's the same story, only with an even more pathetic ending than the last installment.

I get to my feet, refasten my bra, and tug Jisoo's sweatshirt over my head. I can't be here when Lisa returns. I can't spend the next ten minutes preparing myself for whichever Lisa decides to make an appearance. I've done this too many times, and I finally got myself to a place where my need for her wasn't so overpowering. Where she wasn't consuming my every thought, she wasn't responsible for my every breath, and I was finally able to see a life after her.

This was a relapse. That's all it was. This was a terrible lapse in judgment, and I'm harshly reminded of that by the silence of the room.

I'm dressed and in my room by the time I hear her opening the bathroom door. Her footsteps grow louder as she passes by, and it only takes her a few seconds to realize that I'm no longer in her room.

She doesn't knock—I knew she wouldn't—before she enters my room.

I'm sitting on the bed, legs crossed and held in front of me, protecting myself. I must look pathetic to her: my eyes are burning with regretful tears and my skin smelling of her.

"Why did you leave?" Her hair is wet, dripping water down her forehead, and her hands are resting on her hips.

"I didn't. You did," I stubbornly point out.

She blankly stares at me as a few seconds pass. "I guess you're right. Come back?" She forms the demand like a question, and I fight myself not to get up from the bed.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I look away from her gaze, and she treads across the room to sit across from me on the bed.

"Why's that? I'm sorry I freaked out, I just didn't know what to think, and if I'm being totally fucking honest, I didn't trust myself not to say the wrong thing to you, so I figured I would leave the room and clear my head."

Why couldn't she have behaved this way before? Why couldn't she be honest and levelheaded when I needed her to be? Why did it take me finally pulling away for her to want to change?

"I wish you would have at least indicated that instead of just leaving me alone in there." I nod, gathering the tiny scrap of strength inside me. "I don't think we should be alone together."

Her eyes go wild. "What are you talking about?" she growls. So much for levelheaded.

I keep my arms crossed. "I want to be here for you, and I will be—if you need to talk about anything or vent, or if you just want someone to be there—but I really think we should stay in common areas. Like the living room or the kitchen."

"You're not serious," she scoffs.

"I am."

"Common areas? Like with Jisoo serving as our Eleanor Tilney? This is ridiculous, Jen. We can be in the same room without a damn chaperone."

"I didn't say anything about chaperones. I just think with how everything is now"—I sigh—"I think I'm going back to Seattle for a few days." I hadn't fully decided that until now, but now that I've spoken the words, they make sense. I have to get my things ready to move to New York, and I miss Kimberly. I have a doctor's appointment that I've been trying not to think about, and I don't see any good coming from playing house at the Manoban residence. Yet again.

"I'll come with you," she offers plainly, like it's the simplest solution.

"Lisa . . ."

Without asking, she takes a seat on the bed. "I was going to wait to bring this up, but I'm moving out of that apartment and am moving to Seattle, too. That's what you wanted all along, and I'm ready to do it. I don't know what took me so long." She swipes her hand across her hair, pushing the drying strands so they stand up in a messy wave.

I shake my head at her. "What are you talking about?" Now she wants to move to Seattle?

"I'll get us a nice place. It won't be a mansion like you're used to at Vance's, but it will be nicer than anywhere you can afford on your own."

Though I know her words weren't meant as an insult, that's how they feel, and instantly I'm on edge. "You don't get it," I accuse, flinging my arms up. "You're missing the entire point of everything!"

"What point? Why does there have to be a point to any of this?" She scoots a little closer. "Why can't we just be, and why can't you just let me show you who I can be for you? It doesn't have to be about points and keeping score and making yourself miserable because you love me and won't allow yourself to be with me." She covers my hand with her own.

I pull mine away. "I want to agree with you, and I would love to buy into this fantasy world where we could work, but I've done that for too long and I can't do it anymore. You tried to warn me before, and you gave me chance after chance to see the inevitable, but I was in denial. I can see it now, though—I see that we have been doomed from the start. How many times will we have this conversation?"

She looks at me with those penetrating brown eyes. "As many times as it takes to change your mind."

"I never could change yours; what makes you think you could change mine?"

"What just happened between us didn't make it obvious to you?"

"I want you to be a part of my life, just not in that way. Not as my girlfriend."

"Wife?" Her eyes are full of humor and . . . hope?

I stare at her, amazed that she would dare . . . "We aren't together, Lisa! And you can't throw marriage in my face because you think it will change my mind—I wanted you to want to marry me, not offer it as a last resort!"

Her breathing accelerates, but her voice comes out smooth. "It's not a last resort. I'm not playing games with you—I've learned my lesson there. I want to marry you because I can't imagine living my life any other way, and you can go ahead and tell me I'm wrong, but you know we may as well get married now. We won't be apart, and you know it."

She sounds so sure of herself and sure of our relationship, and again I'm confused and can't decide if I should be angry or if I should be happy about her words.

Marriage doesn't hold the same value as it did only months ago. My parents were never married; I could barely believe it when I found out that they pretended to be to appease my mother and my grandparents. Chit and Marco were married, and that legal binding couldn't save their sinking ship. What's the point of being married, really? It almost never works anyway, and I'm beginning to see that it's a ridiculous concept. It's messed up, the way the idea is drilled into our heads that we should promise ourselves to another and depend on that person as our source of happiness.

Lucky for me, I've finally learned that I can't depend on anyone else for my happiness. "I don't think I even want to be married, ever."

Lisa sucks in a harsh breath and her hand moves to my chin, "What? You don't mean that." Her eyes search mine.

"Yes, I do mean that. What's the point? It never works, and divorce isn't cheap." I shrug my shoulders and ignore the horrified expression covering Lisa's face.

"What the hell are you saying? Since when are you so cynical?"

Cynical? I don't believe that I'm cynical. I just need to be realistic and not keep holding out for a storybook ending that I will obviously never have. But it's also not like I'm going to put up with her back-and-forth all the time.

"I don't know, since I realized how hopelessly stupid I was. I don't blame you for ending things with me. I was obsessed with having a life I could never have, and it had to drive you insane."

Lisa tugs at her hair in that frustrated way she does. "Jennie, you're talking crazy shit. You weren't obsessed with anything. I was just an asshole." She groans in frustration and kneels in front of me. "Fuck, now look what I've got you thinking! This is all backwards."

I stand up, hating feeling guilty for saying the truth about how I feel.

I'm so internally conflicted, and being in this small room with Lisa isn't helping. Near her I can't focus, and I can't stick to my defenses when she's looking at me like each of my words is a weapon against her—no matter how true that is, it still makes me feel sympathy for her when I don't think I should.

I was always so quick to judge women who felt this way. While watching an overly dramatic relationship on-screen, I was quick to label the woman as "weak," but it's not that simple or that cut-and-dried.

There are so many things to take into consideration when labeling someone, and I'll admit before I met Lisa, I did this far too often. Who am I to judge people based on their feelings? I never knew how strong those foolish emotions could be; I couldn't comprehend the magnetic pull that could be felt. I never understood the way love overpowers common sense and passion overtakes logic, or how unnerving it is that no one else really knows how you feel—no one can judge me for being weak or stupid, no one can put me down for the way I feel.

I will never claim to be perfect, and I am struggling every second to keep myself above water, but it's not as easy as people assume. It's not so easy to walk away from someone when he has made his way into every cell, when he has taken over every thought, and he has been responsible for the best and worst feelings I've ever had. No one, not even the doubting part of me, can make me feel bad for loving passionately and hoping desperately that I could have that great love that I've read about in novels.

By the time I finish justifying my actions to myself, my subconscious has taken her hair down and closed her eyes, relieved that I've finally stopped beating myself up for the way that my emotions have been playing me."Jennie, I'm coming to Seattle. I won't try and force you to live with me, but I want to be where you are. I'll keep my distance until you're ready for more, and I'll play nice with everyone, even Vance."

"That's not the issue." I sigh. Her determination is admirable, but it's never been consistent. She will get bored eventually and move on with her life. We are too far gone this time.

"Like I said before, I will try to keep my distance, but I'm coming to Seattle. If you won't help me decide on an apartment, I'll have to choose it myself, but I'll make sure you'll like it, too."

She doesn't need to know my plans. I use my thoughts to drown out her words. If I hear them, if I really listen to them, they will break down the barrier I've built. The surface split open only an hour ago, and I let my emotions control my body, but I can't let that happen again.

Lisa leaves the room after another ten minutes of me trying to ignore her promises, and I start packing my bag for Seattle. I've been going back and forth, traveling too much lately, and I look forward to the day when I finally have a place to call home. I need the security, I need the stability.

How is it that I spent my entire life planning for stability only to be out in the world swaying along with no base to call my own, no safety net, nothing at all?

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, Jisoo is leaning against the wall, and she stops me with a gentle hand on my arm. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you before you leave."

I stand in front of her and wait for her to speak. I hope she's not changing her mind on letting me tag along to New York.

"I just wanted to check with you and see if you've changed your mind about coming with me to NYU. If you did, that's okay. I just need to know so I can tell Marco about the flight arrangements."

"No, I'm still coming. I just need to go to Seattle and say goodbye to Kim and—" I want to tell her about my appointment, but I don't think I'm ready to face that just yet. Nothing is certain, but I'd rather not think about it just yet.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to go, I'll understand if you want to stay here, with her." Jisoo's voice is so kind, so understanding, that I can't help but throw my arms around her shoulders.

"You are amazing; you know that, right?" I smile up at her. "I haven't changed my mind. I want to do this; I have to do this for myself."

"When are you going to tell her? What do you think she will do?"

I haven't put much thought into what Lisa will do when I tell her my plans to move across the country. I don't have time to let Lisa's opinion shape my plans, not anymore.

"I honestly don't know how she will react. Up until my father's funeral, I don't think she would have cared one bit."

Jisoo nods noncommittally. Then noises from the kitchen break our silence, and I'm reminded that I haven't congratulated her on the news.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me that your mother is pregnant!" I exclaim, thankful for the easy subject change.

"I know, I'm sorry. She just told me, and you've been keeping yourself locked in that room." She smiles, gently teasing me.

"Are you sad that you're leaving now with a baby sibling on the way?" I briefly wonder if Jisoo likes being an only child. We have only discussed it a few times, but she always avoids talking about her father, so the attention was quickly directed back to me each time.

"A little. I'm just worried how my mom will handle the pregnancy alone.

And I'll miss her and Marco, but I'm ready for this." She smiles at me. "I think I am, at least."

I nod with assurance. "We will be fine. Especially you; you've already been accepted. I'm moving there without knowing if I will even get in. I'll just be floating around New York without being enrolled, and I'll have no job and—"

Jisoo's hand covers my mouth, and she laughs. "I feel that same panic when I think about the change, but I force myself to focus on the positives."

"Which are?" I mumble against her hand.

"Well, it's New York. That's all I've gotten so far," she admits with a deep laugh, and I find myself smiling from ear to ear as Karen joins us in the hallway.

"I'll miss that sound when you two leave," she says, her eyes shining under the lights.

Marco walks up behind her and places a kiss on the back of her head. "We all will."