Becca Fitzpatrick: Crescendo

“When we kiss, are you faking it?”

He stopped short. Another disbelieving shake of his head. “ Faking it?”

“When I touch you, do you feel anything? How far does your desire go? Do you feel anything close to what I feel for you?”

Patch watched me in silence. “Nora—,” he began.

“I want a straight answer.”

After a moment, he said, “Emotionally, yes.”

“But physically no, right? How am I supposed to be in a relationship, when I have no idea how much it even means to you? Am I experiencing things on a whole different level? Because that’s what it feels like. And I hate it,” I added. “I don’t want you to kiss me because you have to. I don’t want you to pretend it means something, when it’s really just an act.”

“Just an act? Are you listening to yourself?” He tipped his head back against the wall and gave another, darker laugh. He cut me a sideways glance. “Are you done with the accusations?”

“You think this is funny?” I said, hit by a fresh wave of anger.

“Just the opposite.” Before I could say more, he turned toward the door. “Call me when you’re ready to talk rationally.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re crazy. You’re impossible.”

“ I’m crazy?”

He tipped my chin up and planted a quick, rough kiss on my mouth. “And I must be crazy for putting up with it.”

I pulled free and rubbed my chin resentfully. “You gave up becoming human for me, and this is what I get? A boyfriend who hangs out at Marcie’s, but won’t tell me why. A boyfriend who walks out at the first hint of a fight. Try this on for size: You’re a—jerk!”

Jerk? he spoke to my thoughts, his voice cold and cutting. I’m trying to follow the rules. I’m not supposed to fall in love with you. We both know this isn’t about Marcie. This is about how I feel about you. I have to hold back. I’m walking a dangerous line. Falling in love is what got me in trouble in the first place. I can’t be with you the way I want.

“Why did you give up becoming human for me if you knew you couldn’t be with me?” I asked, my voice wobbling slightly, sweat prickling the palms of my hands. “What did you even expect from a relationship with me? What’s the point of”—my voice caught and I swallowed without meaning to—“us?”

What had I expected from a relationship with Patch? At some point, I must have thought about where our relationship was headed, and what would happen. Of course I had. But I’d been so frightened by what I saw coming that I’d pretended the inevitable away. I’d pretended a relationship with Patch could work, because deep inside, any time with Patch had seemed better than nothing at all.

Angel.

I looked up when Patch spoke my name in my thoughts.

Being close to you on any level is better than nothing. I’m not going to lose you. He paused, and for the first time since I’d know him, I saw a flicker of worry in his eyes. But I already fell once. If I give the archangels cause to think I’m even remotely in love with you, they’ll send me to hell. Forever.

The news hit me like a blow to the stomach. “What?”

I’m a guardian angel, or at least so I’ve been told, but the archangels don’t trust me. I have no privileges, no privacy. Two of them cornered me last night for a talk, and I walked away with the feeling that they want me to slip up again. For whatever reason, they’re choosing now to crack down on me. They’re looking for any excuse to get rid of me. I’m on probation, and if I screw this up, my story doesn’t have a happy ending.

I stared at him, thinking he had to be exaggerating, thinking it couldn’t possibly be that bad, but one look at his face told me he’d never been more serious.

“What happens now?” I wondered out loud.

Instead of answering, Patch sighed with frustration. The truth of the matter was, this was going to end badly. No matter how much we backpedaled, stalled, or looked the other way, one day all too soon, our lives would be ripped apart. What would happen when I graduated and went off to college? What would happen when I followed my dream job to the other side of the country? What would happen when it came time for me to marry or have kids? I wasn’t doing anyone a favor by falling in love with Patch more every day. Did I really want to stay on this road longer, knowing it was only going to end with devastation?

For one fleeting moment, I thought I had the answer—I’d give up my dreams. It was as simple as that. I shut my eyes and let go of my dreams like they were balloons on long, thin ribbons. I didn’t need those dreams. I couldn’t even be sure they’d come true. And even if they did, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone and tortured by the knowledge that everything I’d done meant nothing without Patch.

And then it hit me in a terrible way that neither of us could give up everything. My life would continue marching into the future, and I didn’t have the power to stop it. Patch would stay an angel forever; he would continue the path he’d been on since he fell.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” I asked.

“I’m working on it.”

In other words, he had nothing. We were trapped on both sides—the archangels applying pressure from one direction, and two futures headed in vastly different directions from the other.

“I want out,” I said quietly. I knew I wasn’t being fair—I was protecting myself. What other option did I have? I couldn’t give Patch a chance to talk me out of it. I had to do what was best for both of us. I couldn’t stand here, hanging on, when the very thing I held disappeared more with each passing day. I couldn’t show how much I cared when it was only going to make things impossibly hard in the end. Most of all, I didn’t want to be the reason Patch lost everything he’d worked for. If the archangels were looking for an excuse to banish him forever, I was only making it easy.

Patch stared at me like he couldn’t tell if I was serious. “That’s it? You want out? You got your turn to explain yourself, which I don’t buy, by the way, but now that it’s my turn, I’m supposed to just swallow your decision and walk out?”

I hugged my elbows and turned away. “You can’t force me to stay in a relationship I don’t want.”

“Can we talk about this?”

“If you want to talk, tell me what you were doing at Marcie’s last night.” But Patch was right. This wasn’t about Marcie. This was because I was scared and upset with the deal that fate and circumstance had cut both of us.

I turned back to see Patch drag his hands down his face. He gave a short, unamused laugh.

“If I’d been at Rixon’s last night, you’d wonder what was going on!” I flung back.

“No,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “I trust you.”

Afraid I’d lose my resolve if I didn’t act immediately, I smacked the heels of my hands against his chest, knocking him back a step. “Go,” I said, tears making my voice rough. “I have other things I want to do with my life. Things that don’t involve you. I have college and future jobs. I’m not going to throw it all away on something that was never meant to be.”

Patch flinched. “Is this what you really want?”

“When I kiss my boyfriend, I want to know he feels it!”

As soon as I said it, I regretted it. I didn’t want to hurt him—I just wanted to get this moment over with as quickly as possible before I unraveled and broke down sobbing. But I’d gone too far. I saw him stiffen. We stood face-to-face, both of us breathing hard.

Then he strode out, yanking the door shut behind him.