so long - t.s.h [sequel to pinky promises]

[five]

You were hurt. There was no other way to put it. You couldn't stop replaying Tom's response to Amber's question in your head. He'd barely even hesitated before telling her that they could make plans without you. It was a pretty clear sign to you that everything you'd feared was true, and that Amber was there for other reasons. Maybe you were overreacting — maybe she just felt uncomfortable around you — but you didn't think that was the case. You knew Amber well enough to know what she was like, and there was no way she only wanted to be a part of Maggie's life again.

Each time you replayed the moment in your head, the sinking feeling you'd felt the first time — the betrayal — also came with it. How could your best friend, and the person you loved, do that to you? He was supposed to have your back, no matter what, and at that moment, it felt like he didn't at all. It was as if Amber had some sort of magic spell over Tom, and he always gave in to her. Always.

No matter how oblivious Tom was about Amber, he could see that you were upset. You'd gotten quiet after Amber left, and that wasn't like you; he could tell that something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what exactly it was. You tried your best to act normal around Maggie, but after she went to bed, you dropped the act. Telling Tom that you weren't feeling well and that you were tired, you went straight to bed, too. It wasn't a lie, exactly, because you'd started to feel kind of sick. You weren't sure if it was because of the anxiety you were feeling, or if it was something you'd caught, but either way, you just needed to put the entire day behind you.

After showering, you crawled into bed; silent tears ran down your cheeks and onto your pillow. When Tom finally came in to go to sleep, you pretended that you were fast asleep, facing the opposite direction. Maybe it wasn't the most mature move, but you didn't have it in you to talk to anyone, much less to the person who had hurt you.

Even though Tom thought you were asleep, he leaned over your shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, and then pulled back a little to press another kiss to your shoulder. He let out a soft sigh as his arm looped around your waist and pulled your back into his chest carefully. No matter how upset or mad you were at him, this would always be your favorite place in the world, and you did snuggle a little closer into his grasp. His voice was soft as he spoke, not wanting to wake you, voice muffled against your shoulder, "I love you, Y/N. Everything will be okay." That was all you wanted, but you couldn't be sure.

Awake early the next morning, you slipped out of Tom's grasp and made your way to the kitchen to let Tessa out in the backyard and put the kettle on. It was unusual for you to get out of bed before Tom if you didn't have somewhere to be, but you were still hurting, and you could use some time to think. Were you overthinking? Was it worth even bringing up to him? He probably didn't mean it like that, he likely hadn't meant to hurt you.

As much as you knew that conversation would be hard to have, you knew it was important. This wasn't your relationship with Isaac — Tom was mature and genuinely cared about you — so you were no longer going to run from the tough conversations. You loved Tom, no matter what. Even through the hurt and hard conversations, which you still weren't quite feeling up to when Tom finally woke up, so you decided to put on the best smile you could and go on with the day. You knew Sam was coming over to watch a game with Tom, and for a few hours at least, that would be a good distraction.

"Hey, love. Sam's gonna be coming over later," Tom said, making you jump as he walked up behind you.

"Okay. I didn't wake you, did I? I was trying to be quiet."

Tom shook his head, "No. Mags came in."

It didn't matter how hard you were trying to hide that something was bothering you, Tom could tell easily. He knew by the tone of your voice and the way your smile vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. You didn't reach for him like you usually did when it was just the two of you in the kitchen and Maggie hadn't come out for breakfast yet. Concern etched into his features, Tom started to ask, "Is everything o—"