﷽
He was shrinking, getting tinier with every step he took from me. I had forgiven him and I knew he knew that too but why did it feel weird? Why did I have mixed emotions about seeing him? He had a change that made me happy, he was vibrant and healthy unlike two weeks ago when I saw a glimpse of him on the news, hidden in that black hoodie of his. He looked like when I first met him, his eye bags drooping all the way down from his face, he looked pale and miserable and I knew I was the cause of it and it was still eating me inside. I was the reason he returned to that unhealthy state but seeing him now looking vibrant and healthy made me feel some sort of relief, I wasn't a monster. But What if he was still hurting? What if it was all a performance? Maybe I was a monster.
A normal ex-potential girlfriend would have been happy to see him miserable but I wasn't I hadn't even given him a chance, slammed the doors shut on his face and blocked every entry point for him. I was the cause of his misery and I extremely felt horrible.
He was no longer visible, long gone and leaving me standing in the cold alone. I look up at the apartment then back to the road he had taken. I follow it, I knew exactly where he had gone to. The Old abandoned Bridge, considerably our first date site.
.
And I was right, he was sitting on the edge of the unsafe bridge, his silhouette slumped forward. I walk up carefully towards him afraid that the bridge might give in and I'd drop onto the frozen river.
He senses my presence and looks over at me, his eyes glinting for a second than quickly darkening, "Hey," he whispers, a mist of smoke leaving his mouth.
"Hey," I whisper back, I was now standing next to him looking down at the glinting snow that he was so focused at.
"So how have the past two months been?" I jump up to sit next to him and scoot closer.
"Good," his response was almost automatic.
Silence.
Then he croaks, "What about you?"
"Well..." a laughter interrupts me and for no particular reason I smile. I liked his laugh.
"Is this going to be long? Should I get popcorn?" He wasn't making eye contact. I wanted to see how his eyes wrinkled by the edges when he smiled.
"Well let me start then because it has been the longest two months." And so I tell him, every single detail. About how Miss Tatu was diagnosed with Cancer and how she might leave without me seeing her. I explain about my graduation, one of the happiest day of my life, my new job as a nurse at St Peter Hospital for kids suffering from Cancer and mention how Logan was by my side because I felt guilty to not include him.
I liked Logan, he was always so sweet and caring. And it didn't take long for us to finally be a 'thing' because unlike Max, he was open, he wasn't a mystery I tried so hard to figure out and he actually asked me out instead of using my window as a door and kind of keeping me hostage at some castle for days. I excluded all that from my story.
But as much as I hated to admit it, I still held strong feelings for Max. But I wasn't going to betray Logan because things were simpler with him, no paparazzi, no sneaking out, no one against us. Just us, a normal couple with no drama.
"You like it with him?" He speaks for the first time since I started talking about my two months.
"Who?" I knew who.
"Logan," his jaw clenches than unclenches.
"You know?" He nods, I then realize that he was sitting by the window sill when we entered, not stalking me but somehow finding refuge there.
"Yeah Im happy with him," he smiles, so small and genuine, "I'm glad you are happy Hales," and for the first time since I sat next to him, he looks at me. His dark blue eyes looking straight into mine, and like medusa it seemed like he had froze me with just a stare. They looked enchanting, something was swirling deep within them, a snowflake in the midst of a storm.
"You look beautiful," then he looks away, down towards the frozen lake.
"Max?" He nods as an initiative for me to speak.
"Do you want to talk about him?" I gulp, I knew he didn't like speaking about his brother, but I wanted to know.
"No, it's not going to help with anything, talking about it doesn't heal you," I take his hand into mine and smile a little at our interwined hands, pale with the cold.
"I'm not trying to fix you, I just want to know," He evidently gulps then slowly nods, his eyes now focused on our hands, his colder than the snow that bit my skin.
"He was amazing, he deserved to be king. He was kind, knew how to handle his mess and most importantly, he was not like me. He was way better," he smiles, his eyes looking distant as he talked. As if he were reliving the life they shared together. I don't interrupt just like he didn't with my story.
"One night we fought. I told him that he was being a self centered asshole," he grips my hand and looks over towards me, this time I could clearly see the sadness in his eyes, he wasn't trying to shield it. He was letting me see his vulnerability and I knew how hard that was for him. So I grip his hand back as a silent action to let him know that I was there and ready to listen to him.
"I don't even know why I did that Hales, I was such a spoilt brat. He had just been left with Sasha, the love of his life and he was a mess and I was a brat and started yelling at him. I was telling him hurtful stuff, stuff I wish I could just turn back time and never say," this part of the story was never in the media, they never shared that even the Royal Family were human too and could equally get hurt.
"He got mad and left, and I heard his car whirling out of the castle but I was too conceited to try to stop him. I wish I could just tell him not to go, he was in a bad mood and definitely not in a state to drive, his mind was jammed with thoughts. What hurts the most is that I knew he could never drive if he had too much in his head but I was too egoistical," he sighs, I knew it was hard to keep talking about it, but this is the most he had talked about his brother and deep down I knew he knew that it was time to let go and that none of it was his fault. It is that realization that sets us free from the trauma, when we stop blaming ourselves about the inevitable.
"He got into an accident and died right there," he intakes a deep breath and I knew that was a way for him to try and stop the tears.
"You think its your fault Max?" He nods and looks away from me sniffing away the tears that threatened to fall.
"I know it is, I could have stopped him, or better.... been by his side," I place my head on his shoulder and hold tight to his hand when he tries to slip it away from my grip.
"It's not your fault. Stop blaming yourself about something you couldn't stop, something that was inevitable. I know you know that and I know you know it wasn't your fault. Life gets better when you block that little negative voice in the back of your head. That voice is whats dragging you down," he slips his hand out from mine and this time I let him.
"Stop doing this Hales. Stop pretending you care for me," I furrow my eyebrows and shake my head but he interrupts me and lifts my head off his shoulder.
"I hate it, you are being fake, to both me and your boyfriend," I raise my eyebrows in surprise and frantically jump down the bridge.
"I'm being fake? Do you Maximus think Im here right now because I have hope in us? Heck no! Im here because you seemed mad and I just wanted to help," a nagging voice in the back of my head kept repeating every word that came out, opposite to what I was saying.
You did come back here because you loved him, even though you are too prideful to admit it.
I sigh when he doesn't respond. Doesn't even look at me but continues to stare at the frozen ice. I wanted his attention. I sigh louder, I needed him to at least look at me before I go, we might never encounter each other ever again and I just needed him to look at me.
I stand there, five seconds longer, silently begging for him to look at me, just once. But he doesn't.
"Go away Hales," he whispers, I wanted to tell him that he wasn't in any position to tell me what to do, but I decide otherwise. I leave. A cold tear drops from my eyes because it felt like I lost him completely.
I wipe it away from my cheek, stare at it for a second, than flick it away. Hales Adams doesn't cry for any guy.