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The loss of a parent connected you and Conrad before you’d truly gotten to know him. Your dad passed when you were six years old, taken by a different form of the illness that also left Conrad bereft of his mom. It was something you discovered you had in common very early on; you even discussed it on your first date. You’d carefully picked your moment to mention that you’d grown up with a single parent—and why.
You dropped it into the conversation as casually as possible, hoping for the best. To your relief, Conrad was kind, listening to your story without the flicker of judgment that you often caught in other people’s eyes, betraying their true feelings when you revealed this fundamental aspect of who you are as a person, who your circumstances have forced you to become.
In the past, you’d received reactions to the information about your upbringing that had made your heart sink. Where you grew up, it wasn’t standard for people to have an unconventional family set-up. But instead of reacting badly, Conrad let you speak; let you explain without interruptions, and never appeared to be negatively affected by the revelation. Then he told you he understood what you’d been through, to a certain degree, and you realised that he was different from anyone you’d ever dated.
Of course, he’d had longer with Susannah—his mom—than you were afforded with your dad. Conrad was essentially an adult when she died. But, in truth, that didn’t matter. Your grief was comparable enough that a bond was forged between you, despite having only begun chatting properly a week earlier, after running into one another a few times in your favourite campus cafe.
Even when his mom was still alive, Conrad had felt the absence of his dad, who he’d described at the time as cold and dismissive. You’d since confirmed that assessment for yourself. So Conrad did get it, and it helped you understand one another’s occasional dips into melancholy as your relationship progressed. After your first date, you couldn’t stop spending time together, even though you were both busy taking the first steps forward into your chosen careers.
Conrad aimed to become a doctor, and you were studying law. That was four years ago, and you’d both graduated and found jobs you were happy with. It was a tiring life, but you were content together in your cosy little apartment. In fact, you’d reached the stage within the last year where you’d been seriously thinking about what your future would look like… and whether or not that future was together.
You weren’t the type to hint about that kind of thing. One random Tuesday night, you decided to ask Conrad outright. You were cuddled together on the couch and had just finished a less-than-memorable movie that barely held your wandering attention.
“Do you see us getting married someday?” you asked. “I mean, is that something you ever think about?”
He smiled shyly and sipped his glass of water. He’d grown his hair a little longer than usual. Some of it fell over his eyes as he nodded with a cute little dip of the head.
“I think about that a lot, actually.”
He didn’t elaborate, so you left it there. You knew Conrad well enough to appreciate that he didn’t like to be pushed into things. And then, six months ago at Christmas, you’d had the strangest feeling that he would propose to you. A passing comment from your mom during dinner about how your dad would have loved to have Conrad as a son-in-law added fuel to the already flickering fire. But nothing came of it.
You almost went so far as to scroll through his email inbox, itching to check for a ring receipt, but you stopped yourself. You knew he wouldn’t have minded, but you didn’t want to become someone who would invade their partner’s privacy. So you’ve been waiting. It’s finally summer and time for your annual visit to Conrad’s beach house. You’re staying there for a week before you both travel back to your mom’s to attend a small family gathering. You do this yearly in late June to commemorate your dad’s passing.
Conrad shares the beach house with his brother and his mom’s best friend, Laurel, along with Laurel’s kids, Steven and Isabel. You don’t know them very well. In the years you and Conrad have been together, you’ve only met them once or twice in passing. There’s tension there, especially with Isabel, or rather Belly—the youngest. Not only was she Conrad’s first love, but she was also briefly engaged to his younger brother, Jeremiah. They were almost married, but it ended in tears, largely due to Conrad’s self-confessed interference. The two families are still dealing with some trauma around it all, and it sometimes feels to you as though the cracks have been hastily papered over.
Despite all that, Laurel has always been kind to you. You can sense how much she loves Conrad and how she just wants him to be happy. And yet, you don’t know when you’ll see her next. Conrad has his week at the Cousins house, and everyone generally leaves him and you to it. Conrad is fine with his brother, but Jeremiah keeps busy and has an active social life. Conrad once commented that his little brother will never settle down—he’s too restless. As for Belly, she doesn’t even live in the country. She’s currently in Paris, as far as you’re aware. And that suits you fine, if you’re being honest with yourself.
It’s not that you feel threatened by her, but you try to acknowledge that most people view their first love in a certain light. Conrad feels everything deeply, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he still holds a little fondness for Belly. That’s fine, only because Conrad has sworn that he learned his lesson. Belly and he are bad for one another. You believe it— you can tell by the way he talks about it all that she hurt him deeply. And in fairness to Belly, he admits to having hurt her, too. Above all, they’re both old enough now to have realised that sometimes love just isn’t enough to make a situation work.
It’s early evening as you and Conrad pull into the driveway of the summer house. Suddenly, your stomach flips, your anxiety stoked by the car sitting at the head of the drive, just in front of the house. What if it’s Belly? As much as you’ve accepted her past with Conrad, you don’t necessarily want to spend time with her, especially when you haven’t prepared yourself to do so.
“Who else is here?” you ask. You dislike the fraught tone of your voice, but you couldn’t have covered it up. “You didn’t tell me we wouldn’t be alone.”
Conrad shakes his head, frowning. “No, I didn’t know we wouldn’t. Nobody said anything to me.” He peers at the license plate of the vehicle parked ahead of you. “I don’t recognise the car.”
He brakes and turns in his seat to look at you. “Are you okay? You seem—”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you rush to say. You don’t want to admit it, but you’re terrified that Belly is here. You’re not even sure why the thought scares you so much, but it does. You force yourself to smile. “Whoever it is can’t be planning to stay, right? Everyone knows it’s your week?”
“Yeah, I mean, they’re supposed to,” Conrad agrees. He reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “Don’t worry, kay?”
You nod but say nothing. As you’re exiting the car, you hear the front door of the house creak open. Footfalls on the steps indicate that whoever was inside is coming down to say hello. You take a deep breath, plaster on a grin, and raise your head. You immediately lock eyes with Belly, and she falters. She looks the same as always, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders in a way that you try to admire rather than covet.
“Oh, hey!” she calls to you, recovering quickly. She takes a few steps forward. “Long time no see.”
“It’s you,” Conrad utters to her, cutting you off before you get a word out. There’s uncertainty in his voice, but he tries to mask it with shaky laughter.
You watch as Belly takes him in, her eyes wide. She folds her arms across her middle protectively. You can see that she’s feeling vulnerable, and you experience a pang of guilt. Although you don’t see yourself and Conrad as particularly threatening, Belly is clearly uncomfortable. Perhaps she wasn’t expecting you. According to Conrad, they’re on okay terms now, despite all the complicated history. Then again, he hasn’t exactly offered her a warm greeting.
“I’m sorry,” she begins. “I’ve totally messed up. I thought Steven was here this week. I was going to surprise him.”
“He’s next week,” Conrad smiles politely. Then, after a pause, he says, “I didn’t know you were back.”
Belly shrugs. “Just for summer.”
They observe each other in silence for several seconds. You’re frozen, feeling as though you’re intruding on the stilted reunion. Then, thankfully, Conrad breaks the tension.
“Well, uh, we’ve had this week planned for a while. Do you have somewhere else to stay?”
“No, wait,” you begin. “Belly, you can stay here. I don’t want to kick you out of your own house.”
She angles her body towards you, and her expression reveals her gratitude. “Please, I’m the one intruding. Of course, I can figure something out.”
You’re already shaking your head. Despite everything, it doesn’t feel right to ask her to go. “Honestly, stay. It’ll be fine.”
Belly pulls her phone from her pocket, checking the time. “It is kinda late for me to find somewhere now, but I’ll only stay for tonight. I’m out of here first thing in the morning.” She looks back at Conrad. “Is that okay?”
He raises one shoulder in an attempt to seem nonchalant. “I guess.”
“Okay, uh… I’m going to head out—grab myself dinner. I’ll be back later. Enjoy your evening, guys.”
With that, Belly makes a somewhat awkward exit. You gather your things from the car and head inside, leaving Conrad to follow you to his room with most of the luggage. You watch him deposit bags onto the bed from your spot in the chair by his dresser. You hope he’s not upset with you.
“I thought it’d be best to let her stay,” you say quietly, looking up at him.
“No, I know. I just… It’s unexpected. I don’t like surprises.”
You stand and shuffle towards him, wrapping your arms around his body. You feel the soft cotton of his shirt on your cheek as you press your head against him. His chin comes to rest on top of your head, and his arms encircle you, holding you tight.
“I know you don’t,” you say.
He sighs, leaning a little heavier on you.
“You’re so heavy! Can we lie down?” you request with a chuckle.
He grabs you by the hand and falls onto the bed, sending bags bouncing in all directions. He pulls you down and proceeds to enclose you in another bear hug.
“You’re going to fall asleep,” you mumble. “I’ll never get away.”
Conrad yawns. You know for a fact he’s gearing up for a nap, which he’ll only regret when he can’t sleep later on.
“We should have something to eat,” you suggest.
“What do you want?” he asks.
You yawn as well, hopeless to suppress it. “I have absolutely no idea.”
In the end, you settle for staying in the bedroom, picking at the snack bag you brought with you for the car journey. Conrad isn’t much of a snacker, but he occasionally partakes. With a handful of Doritos, he looks across the bed at you and smiles.
“I’m glad we’re here.”
“Me too,” you reply. “Don’t make crumbs.”
He begins to laugh. He’s about to say something when you hear the sound of the front door opening downstairs. Belly must be back.
“I’m sorry this hasn’t gone to plan,” Conrad says.
“It’s just one night,” you reassure him.
For some reason, he looks particularly sad. You don’t want to push him to talk. Instead, you reach across, brushing his hair away from his face.
“I love you,” you tell him.
He puts his chips back in the bag, then licks his fingers in a way that he definitely didn’t intend to seem seductive. However, you can’t help but enjoy a little thrill. He somehow manages to make the most mundane things attractive.
“I love you too,” he replies.
When he kisses you, all of your tension eases, the stress from earlier in the day seeming to melt away. And then, you remember that Belly is here. You tense up and pull back.
Conrad looks as uncomfortable as you feel. “This isn’t happening tonight, is it?”
Your laughter is genuine, if a little strained. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry.”
“No, I totally get it,” Conrad replies. “Trust me.”
“Okay,” you say. You peck him quickly on the cheek. “I’m going to shower.”
When you return, Conrad is grabbing his towel. “Back in five,” he says.
You dry off and put on your pyjamas while casting about to determine whether or not Conrad has a hairbrush on his dresser or nightstand. You don’t see one, so you go in search of your own. You don’t remember exactly where you packed it, but get down onto your hands and knees, unzipping the first of the bags that fell when you and Conrad jumped on the bed earlier. You’re rummaging through the contents when your hand brushes against an unfamiliar texture. It’s soft, velvety.
Your heart beats faster as your fingers close around a box. A ring box. You tuck it into the sleeve of your pyjama shirt without looking at it, and sit down heavily on the bed. That’s how Conrad finds you when he returns a few minutes later. He rushes straight to your side, even though he’s dripping wet, and kneels beside you.
“What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
You stare at him and extend your arm, pulling back your sleeve with your empty hand. You and Conrad both look down at the ring box at the same time.
“Ah,” he breathes. “You found it.”
You nod slowly. “I couldn’t find my hairbrush.”
“This wasn’t what I’d planned… at all.”
“I guess nothing is going to plan these days,” you respond quietly.
“Are you upset?” Conrad asks, his brows knitting together.
“No!” you hurry to reassure him. “I just… this isn’t what I’d imagined. I didn’t think…” You sigh, “I didn’t think Belly would be here.”
Conrad’s eyes widen, and he stares off into space. “Me either.” He gives himself a little shake. “I wish you hadn’t found it,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
All of a sudden, you feel dizzy. What is he saying? Has he changed his mind about proposing? Is it because of Belly?
He focuses, his eyes fixing on you. “I was going to wait. Your mom asked me to. When I told her I was going to propose this week, she suggested I hold off. She thought it might be nice if I did it at your dad’s memorial.”
You feel a pain in your chest at the mention of your dad, but your eyes fill with tears of relief. It’s perfect, really. You’re reminded of how well your mom knows you; she knows how meaningful it will be to have your dad be part of such a pivotal moment in your life, especially as he will never get to join you for your wedding.
Conrad looks concerned. He reaches out to thumb away your tears. “Did we get it wrong?”
You shake your head profusely. “No! Not at all.” You hand him the small blue box. “You should probably pack this away again, so you can do what my mom suggested. It’s really thoughtful.” You smile at him, and a laugh escapes you. “I thought you were going to tell me you’d decided not to ask after seeing Belly.”
Instead of laughing, as you expected he would, Conrad appears alarmed at the thought. “No. Belly was my best friend for so long. And we tried so hard to love each other the way we thought we were supposed to—the way my mom probably hoped we would.” He pushes his hair back, sighing. “But something always felt… off. There was Jere, and it just hurt too much. It always felt like a push and pull between the three of us. It’s not love if you have to fight that hard just to feel okay. It’s not supposed to be painful all the time.”
“No, it’s not,” you agree.
Conrad gazes at you. “When I met you, I finally understood what it’s supposed to feel like, without all the mixed messages and the confusion, or expectations that can never be met. Love is about acceptance and understanding. You and I have always had that.”
“And we always will.”
You throw your arms around his neck, not caring that his hair is still damp. Eventually, he stands, pulling you gently to your feet. When he turns you towards the bed, you try to forget that Belly is still in the house, but you can’t. As soon as Conrad speaks, it’s as if he’s read your mind.
“We should get some sleep. It’s been a full-on day.”
Your heart swells with love for him, and with appreciation for his ability to read you so well. “Sleep is exactly what I need.”