Free Private Politics (The Easy Part) by Emma Barry

her to reject him and trigger the final, wallowing-in-self-pity stage.
    He brought his hand up to the small of Molly’s back. All that was left was to try to end this charade with some dignity. “It was nice running into you,” he said to Alyse. “I’ll see you...around.”
    “Sure. Yes. Have a good afternoon.” She stepped to the side to allow them to pass.
    Neither he nor Molly spoke as they exited the theater and then turned to walk up Wisconsin Avenue. Two blocks filled with the city’s most expensive condos faded as the approached the heart of Georgetown, shuttered and subdued because of the crap weather.
    Molly didn’t say anything, not that he’d been expecting her to berate him. As they walked, he hoped that maybe he’d been imagining the whole awkward thing. Maybe he could get out of this with a minimum of embarrassment to both of them.
    “So,” she finally said, “how long have you been in love with her?” Oh hell. Another illusion shattered.
    “Excuse me?” The words were more sputtered than spoken. It was all he could do not to trip on the sidewalk.
    Molly, in contrast, was perfectly poised. “Alyse. How long have you been in love with her?”
    He didn’t know Molly very well, hardly knew her at all actually, but she didn’t sound pissed. It was a curious, interested question. “I’m not in love with her,” he tried.
    God, he was an ass.
    “Okay.” A beat. “How long have you been carrying a big ole torch for her?”
    Such an ass. There was no use dissembling. “Forever. Six months.”
    “Does she know?”
    That really was the heart of the matter, wasn’t it? How could she not? She had acknowledged it, or nearly so, at Cosi on Friday. But...it wasn’t like he’d ever come out and said it. No proposition where she was concerned had ever left his mouth. He had never made a move. It had been much more of the “pining away from across the room” variety of crush.
    “I...I don’t know.”
    “So you think it’s an unrequited thing?”
    “It’s most definitely an unrequited thing.”
    Molly stopped walking and scowled at him. “For a smart guy, you’re being really stupid. She—” she pointed down the hill toward the theater, “—was pissed.”
    If she had been, it had nothing to do with him, but he felt like such a jerk he didn’t want to get into it with Molly. “Look, I’m sorry. I really like you.” It was the truth. Molly was adorable, smart and spirited. He should have met her six and a half months before.
    “I really like you too,” Molly said. His heart lifted a bit; she liked him? “But so does she.”
    He shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”
    “It’s true. And while you may like me, you can’t let yourself
like
me because you’re wrapped up in her.”
    He nodded, so damned embarrassed to have to admit it, but grateful she’d said it. He probably would have gone with a simple, classic, “it’s not you, it’s me” email a few days from now, but this might be better. Unless he was stomping on her heart and she was hiding it well.
    He apologized again just in case. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was going to be there. And I thought...I thought I was ready.”
    “If you ever get ready, you’ll call me?” she asked. They’d reached the stop for her bus.
    “You won’t be single long,” he said. She wouldn’t; he wasn’t sure why she was single now.
    “Oh, you’re probably right,” she said, punching him on the arm with a moderate amount of force. It was quite possible she was hurting more than she let on. “But you’ll call anyway so I can reject you, right?”
    “Yes.” He meant it. Molly was better for him than Alyse. On paper at least. In another lifetime, things might be different between them. But in this one, she...wasn’t Alyse. Attraction was such a cruel beast.
    They hugged then. A simple, friendly hug, not a confusing, arousing paradox. He was now an expert on the differences.
    “I’ll call you soon,” he