“I’m ridiculously in love with you, and I hate it.”

Cal sits there, blinking at me in shock. I can see that he’s fighting to find something, anything, to say to me after I’d just rather unceremoniously dumped this huge bomb on him. He runs a hand across his jaw and over his mouth, dropping it back into his lap with a sigh.

I find that I can’t look at him now. I can’t bear to see the expression of horror, or maybe even sympathy that’s bound to etch its way onto his face.

“Megan…” I hear him say finally. His voice is so quiet, so soft, and the sound of it makes me want to cry. Because I know exactly what he’s trying to tell me by the way he says my name.

I shake my head, eyes still downcast at the cracks on the pavement beneath my boots. I couldn’t feel any more vulnerable or downright pathetic than I do right now.

“Look at me.”

God, the only thing that’s worse than falling in love with the one person that you really shouldn’t, is having to hear that they don’t feel the same way about you after you’ve just blurted it all out.

“You know I love you too, Megs,” he begins, tentatively reaching for my hands that are clasped together tightly.

But…

“But just… Not like that.”

There it is.