The North Star | COMPLETED ✔️

Chapter 58 ~ I Miss You

Early upload! You should all love me for it!

Chapter 58

"I love you, Tequila."

I shot upright and scanned the room, but it was empty.

It was always empty.

Drake no longer haunted my dreams. When I closed my eyes at night, it was a new man– sharp eyes and sweet words– a ghost of the happiness I'd lost, never truly there.

For a week, Bard had remained true to his word. Everyone left, and I stayed, half expecting him to emerge when the last car disappeared down that narrow drive.

But he didn't, and no matter how hard I tried, how much I forced myself to think rationally, I couldn't find it in myself to be grateful.

Alone. For a week, I'd been completely alone.

I laid still and stared at the dust motes floating above my head. The point in getting up felt less and less obvious, and I didn't want to. I didn't want to spend another day convincing myself not to go after him. Reminding myself of everything that had happened just to keep me steady. It was torture. Another day, long and quiet.

Alone.

I missed him, and I wanted to curse myself for it. I wanted to smack inner Jessie across her face. Just like with Drake... I couldn't let it go.

Except Bard wasn't Drake. Bard was so much more.

But they had one thing in common, and that was that I loved him, even though I knew I shouldn't.

A thump sounded from somewhere in the cabin, and I jumped up.

He came back.

I scrambled from the bed without thinking, but no sooner did my feet touch the old wooden floors, I froze.

I can't want him to be back. I can't see him. If I do, I'll...

I crept forward as careful as I could to prevent the familiar creaks from accompanying my steps. My ears primed for sound.

Another thump.

He's here.

I hurried, trying to stay quiet, not wanting to see him but unable to pass up the chance.

The back door closed.

I ran.

By the time I reached the kitchen, it was empty...

And so was I.

I looked out the window, searched the yard, the tree line, but there was no one. He was gone, like the ghost I'd come to know him as, doing what I'd asked him to do.

What I wanted.

It took an eternity before I could will myself to turn away from the murky piece of glass.

Alone.

Then, I saw it, on the table.

A flower, big, and white, and wild. My feet glued to their spot as I stared at it and the little piece of paper tucked beneath.

He left a note...

Did I want to read it? Did I want to risk what was written there? What he'd written.

Fuck!

Unable to resist, I stormed over and picked the torn paper up with shaking hands.

Five words scribbled in a sloppy hand, a man's hand, uncontrolled and imprecise, so unlike everything else about him.