Chapter 98.

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ETHANS POV:

I really want to call her, but I know she won't answer. I miss her loads now, there's nothing to do. Chris has been over a lot, but we still don't do much. It's Paisley's birthday in two weeks, I wonder if maybe she will come home. I hear my phone ring, so I pick it up.

"Hey," I hear Jai say in a cheery voice.

"Well, I just got home.. And.." He says, pausing for effect.

"What?" I ask.

"You're no longer going to be bored these holidays." he announces.

"Hang on, what's happening?"

"You're coming over to Campbelltown for a few weeks!" He says excitedly.

"Wait, really?" I ask.

"Yeah, Mum's talked to Holly and you and Chris are coming over. Chris for three weeks before school starts, and you for longer if you want." he announces.

"Oh my god, when are we going?"

"Tuesday." he replies. That's three days.

"That's so amazing. I'll talk to Chris. See you then I guess." I say.

"Yep, see ya, bro." he replies before hanging up.

I should explain. Jai went home the other day. He didn't think there was any point staying if Paisley wasn't here. He was only here to look after her while we were gone. Thinking about it, it seems like I'm treating Paisley likes she's my daughter or something.

"Hey, what's up?" Chris asks.

"Guess where we're going Tuesday?"

"Where?" He asks.

"Jai's!" I reply, trying not to sound too excited.

"Really? In Campbelltown? I've never been to New South Wales, except for the voice!" he asks, not bothering to hide his excitement.

"Yeah!" I answer.

"Tuesday?" He asks.

"Mhmm."

"Let's pack." he says straight out.

"We have three days." I laugh.

"Oh well, let's pack now. We'll do yours first." he says, jumping up from the couch.

We spend the next hour packing my suitcase and are just about to head down the road to Chris' house. We spend another hour there, packing all of his stuff. I don't know why we're packing so early, but we are. I think this will be a nice break from everything else.

"Do you miss her?" Chris asks out of the blue, throwing a shirt for me to put in his suitcase.

"Paisley? Of course." I reply honestly.

"Do you want her to come home?" He asks. Was that a trick question?

"Of course I do."

"Maybe we'll find her." he shrugs.

"You never know" I sigh. I don't reply want to talk about it, I'm happy with my mind elsewhere. When it's time for me to go home, we force the zip on his suitcase closed. I stand up, pick up my phone and head for the door.

"Hey, we'll find her, okay?" He says. He knows, he always knows.

"Thanks." I nod before walking out and down the stairs.

I drag my feet back home, knowing I'm not in a hurry. I open the door and trudge upstairs. I hear Holly in the kitchen, and I hear either Jack or Rachael crying in their room. They are about two now, but they still like to cry and fight. I sigh and walk back down the stairs and into the kids room. They can walk a bit now, but not far. Turns out Rachael stole Jack's pillow and he doesn't like that. It's their bed time. I walk over to Rachael and take the pillow out from under her head and give it to Jack. This shuts Jack up, but Rachael looks mad. I don't have time for this. I'm not in the mood for this. I take one look at Rachael and remember who she's named after. Rachael Paisley winters. Paisley.

I turn on my heel and leave the room, not wanting my feelings to win out. I'm older now, more mature, I can deal with this. I run up the stairs, crossing my fingers that Rachael doesn't decide to cry. I walk into my room and for some reason, I slam the door behind me.I sit on the bed and pull out my phone. I get a ton of Instagram notifications, and I realise I hadn't posted in ages, so I upload a selfie of Chris and I to keep the fans happy, and check my feed. Nothing interesting. I check my account, change my bio and add a link to it of a cover Chris and I did. Just as I'm about to get off, when a picture catches my eye. It's a picture I posted of Paisley and I a few months ago. We both look so happy, and her smile sends butterflies through me. Even in photos, she's beautiful. This picture sends me into this weird frenzy, and soon I am sitting on the floor with a dozen printed out photos of Paisley in I in front of me on the carpet. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but my mind is telling me to do something. It takes me a while, but I think I have an idea. I'm looking everywhere, but I can't find it. That's when it catches my eye, the little brown box we made in woodwork the first year we met. I remember how we both engraved a little heart in the top corners. The hinges are loose, and the wood shifted before the glue dried. It's messy, but we made it together.

I place every single photo of us I have in a little pile in front of me. One in particular catches my eye. It's one of Paisley and I on the night we went out to the fair after The Voice Kids. The night where we just sat on the grass together. She's laying on the grass next to me. I'm looking up, but Paisley is looking at me. The way she looked at me has me feeling some kind of way. The last one I pick up, I only just remember. It is a perfect photo. It's from the day after I gave her the promise ring. Chris took it. We're both standing under our tree. She's got her arms around my neck and mine around her waist. She's smiling up at me in the same way I am smiling down at her. We look so happy, and it reminds me of the day when everything was perfect. I can't help a small smile on my face as I place that last photo down. I grab my black ribbon and scissors and cut a length. I tie two ribbons around the photos and tie it in a bow. I place the stack in the box and fish around for my next item. Is it creepy that I kept all the notes we passed to each other in class, the letter she wrote me and the letters I wrote back? Because I did. I slide them out my draw carefully because some of them have been there a couple of years. I do the same with the ribbon and place them next to the photos. I pull out my paper and a pen and write a new one. I write everything as my pen just flies across the paper. I don't know what's come over me. I write how I feel, how much I miss her, how much I want to kiss her, how much she means to me.  I write everything. It has me thinking.

We were once perfect.

And we will be perfect again.

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