Page 30 of All In

“So she knows you’re keeping something from her,” Oliver says slowly, once I’m done, “but she doesn’t actually know what.”

“Not exactly. Not the specifics.”

“But she knows there’s a gap. Something you didn’t tell her.”

“Yeah.”

Oliver’s quiet for a second on the other end, and I can picture him exactly, the way he gets when he’s actually thinking something through instead of just reacting. He’s probably leaning back, one hand dragging over his jaw.

“Can I be honest with you?” he says.

“Please.”

“It’s not really about the money, Leo. Not at its core. People who are worth knowing don’t care about the money, not really, not once they actually know you. What they care about is finding out there was a door you didn’t open for them. That’s the part that stings. Not what’s behind the door. The fact that you decided, on your own, without asking her, that she wasn’t ready to see it.”

I sit with that for a second, feeling it land somewhere uncomfortable and accurate.

“I didn’t decide that because I didn’t trust her,” I say. “I decided it because I’ve been burned by exactly this before, and I didn’t want to find out the hard way that I’d been an idiot again.”

“I know that. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re wrong to be careful. KiKi did a number on you and your dad both.” Oliver’s voice softens slightly. “But here’s the thing, man. If she’s worth it—and from everything you’ve told me about her, it sounds like she might be—then you don’t get to protect yourself from her finding out forever. At some point you have to actually let her in, on purpose, and trust that she’s not going to do what your mom did. That’s the whole risk. That’s the only way this works.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Yeah,” Oliver says. “It is. But you don’t get the good part without it. Cora terrified me too. I almost talked myself out of the whole thing about a dozen times before I figured that out.”

“So what do I do?”

“Tell her everything. Tonight, if she’ll let you, tomorrow if she won’t. Don’t make her ask twice. And don’t lead with explaining yourself—lead with the truth, plain, and let the explaining come after. People can smell a justification coming before you’ve even said it, and it makes the whole thing sound smaller than it is.”

I sit with that for a long moment after we hang up, staring at the ceiling of a hotel room that suddenly feels a lot quieter than it did an hour ago, running through every version of the conversation I’m going to have to have tomorrow.

I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say yet.

I know I’m out of time to keep deciding I’ll figure it out later.

chapter

nine

Juniper

There’s a knock on my door at nine fifteen.

I know it’s Leo before I even check, because I’ve spent the last hour lying on top of the hotel comforter in my pajamas, staring at the ceiling, half-expecting it and half-hoping he’d come find me. Also, he’s the only one who knows my room number. I get up, smooth down my hair in the mirror by the door for absolutely no reason, and open it.

He looks like he hasn’t sat still since I left him in the lobby. Same clothes from earlier, hair like he’s run his hands through it more than once, and an expression that’s trying very hard to be calm and isn’t quite landing it.

“Hey,” he says. “I know you said you wanted to turn in. I won’t stay long. I just—I told you I’d explain, and I don’t want to let that sit overnight if I don’t have to.”

“Okay.”

“We can talk out here, if that’s easier. Or downstairs, somewhere public. I don’t want you to feel like you have to let me into your room if today made you uneasy about that. I’d understand completely.”

Something in me softens at that, despite the tight, watchful feeling I’ve been carrying around since the vendor hall. It’s such a Leo thing to say. Because he’s careful and thoughtful about others. And always thinking about my comfort before his own.

“Leo.” I step back, holding the door open. “I’m not scared of you. Whatever this is, I don’t think it’s that kind of thing.”

“You’re sure?”