❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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Isabella was so shocked that she fell back off the stool, completely and utterly dumbfounded by the sudden shift in events. Their lips had only touched for a second, just enough time for her to taste the bitter tang of beer, but it was enough. Enough to send her stomach into a frenzy of caged butterflies that somehow left her curious. Curious as to what kind of feeling would occur if their lips might meet again.
But it was also a shock. Because she had been considering a kiss with Elliot for some time now, and she had been afraid of the reminiscence of Clark that came with the action. But nothing of the sort had occurred. It had just ben her and...and Elliot and...and a sort of wonderful feeling rushing through her bones. Something that she couldn't explain. Maybe relief. Excitement. Happiness and...something else.
She would have fallen off the stool if it weren't for Elliot who suddenly reached out, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him. He pressed his forehead to hers. She didn't pull away. "I...uh...I kind of like you and I...I want to be more than friends because I...I really, really like you, Isabella."
They pressed their lips together again. But for longer this time. And slow. And filled with something a little like love. But not quite. Yet, at least. Something that was obvious even to an outside eye. And that's what the onlookers saw, standing in the doorway. Watching. Just because they could. Two of them. One male. One female. One feeling a swell of pride for a couple doing something that he never could and one absorbed in a confusing storm of happiness and pain.
Maddie and Shane.
Maddie felt a tear roll down her cheek, and she found her hand coming up to her mouth. Concealing a soft, pained sound. So quiet that only those who cared to listen would hear it. She had seen it coming. Of course she had. How could she not? But perhaps she had still been kidding herself. Just a little. Because this hurt so much more than she thought it would. It was the searing hot burn of complete and utter loss. The overwhelming knowledge that the one she loved could never be hers. Or, at least, not in that way.
But then she remembered how much happier he seemed, and the punctured hole inside of her heart was suddenly filled with gratefulness. Gratefulness that Isabella had managed to make him happy again.
