I leaned over to straighten out a crinkle in the picnic rug underneath me. But straightening it out only caused ten more to appear. I frowned, reaching for the woven basket of snacks and wine and hiding the folds underneath.
Out of sight, out of mind.
But hiding the mess didn't settle my nerves. My heart was racing faster with every passing second, even though the hands on my watch had never moved so slowly. It was like there were ten ticks between every tock, like each minute that went by was amplifying the little voice in my head telling me to run.
I closed my eyes. Smothered that voice. I was done running. It was time to face the storm I'd created.
There was a quaint little courtyard around the corner from my biology classroom. I'd stumbled across it the morning I ran into Joanna outside of James' room. Even in my somber mood, I'd appreciated its beauty. A willow tree bloomed in the middle, its weeping branches creating a wispy alcove underneath. Daisies dotted the flowerbeds, filling the yard with the faint, fresh scent of spring.
Dusk was settling, the warm light from a nearby lamp post mixing with the pastel hue drifting down from the evening sky. I checked my watch for what must have been about the seventeenth time in two minutes, then lifted a hand to straighten out the pesky blonde flyaways that were dancing on the warm breeze.
The time was close. I could feel it.
I glanced over everything one last time.
The tiny, glittering fairy lights I'd laced through the rose bushes, courtesy of Kara and her Pinterest obsession.
My laptop, opened to a sketchy streaming website that Noah swore by.
Greasy fries and fat, juicy hamburgers from the campus diner, the fillings carefully selected by me with Dex by my side in the world's most ironic role reversal.
I took a deep breath. I was always such a perfectionist, but I knew that tonight wasn't about the trimmings. The lights and the food were just supplements for the words that I wanted to say.
If I was given the opportunity to say them.
I had to acknowledge that I wouldn't be granted that chance. That I did so much damage, inflicted so much pain. I fractured a heart just like someone fractured mine. The cycle was never-ending: we get hurt, we hurt others, they go on to hurt someone else. In the end, everyone loses.
I needed to break the cycle. I had to grant closure before I could receive it myself.
Footfalls crunched the cobblestones. My heart skipped a beat. I tried to gather myself. I had to. It was too late to back out now.
Light-hearted chatter filled the evening air, the sound of the familiar voices sending a feeling of warmth cascading through my icy veins.
Noah was the first to appear from around the corner.
"I thought you said we were getting something to eat—"
"We are," Noah confirmed. "At least, you are."
"Are you high? There aren't any restaurants around this side of campus ..."
The crunching of cobblestones stopped. The conversation fizzled to embers.
Noah hovered by the entrance to the garden with a sly grin. And, beside him, James peered back at me.
He looked as handsome as ever. His blond hair was tousled, his broad shoulders accentuated in a fitted woolen sweater. His perfectly crafted features were pulled into an uncertain expression as his piercing blue eyes flew over the scene in front of him. The willow tree. The fairy lights. The picnic rug and burgers.
Me.
They lingered on me.
It was a good thing that I was sitting, because I was certain that my legs would have buckled under that stare.
He tore it from me before the shivers on my skin settled, glancing over at his friend skeptically.
"What is this?" His tone was neutral, his voice only just loud enough for me to hear it.
Noah, as cryptic as ever, cocked his head toward me. "I think you know."
James lulled into bewildered silence, his striking features hardening. It was probably the closest thing to anger or betrayal that he could muster, and it awoke the guilt swimming under my skin.
"James—" I tried.
His glazed-over eyes flew back to mine. My lips felt chapped, my throat coarse, like I'd swallowed a bouquet of roses. But I had to explain.
"Don't be mad at him," I pleaded softly. "This was my idea."
"Can confirm," Noah quipped. He held his hands in the air. "I'm merely the messenger. The envoy. The delivery guy. The postman ..."
He was trying to lighten the mood. But his rambling only emphasized the silence.
Noah reclaimed his hands, stuffing them in his pockets. With a sly smile, he spun on his Converse-clad feet. "That's my cue."
And then, he was gone.
But James stayed behind.
I had to blink twice to confirm that he had. To make sure I hadn't imagined it. Sure, Noah, Dex, Kara, and I had set everything up in the hopes that he'd stay and hear me out. But that voice in my head told me he'd walk away. That that was what I deserved. That him leaving was the most likely outcome.
Once again, James exceeded my expectations. Not just of men, but of people in general.
His eyes trailed the grass below his feet, tangled with wildflowers. I knew he wouldn't be the first to speak. I knew it had to be me who broke the silence.
I waved a weak hand at my laptop. "I have Grease."
He arched an eyebrow. "You bought Grease?"
"I downloaded it."
"Legally?"
I ducked my head.
He tutted, but he didn't sound angry. He didn't sound hostile. "You know I'm a law student, right?"
I peered back up at him. His features were lifted into an expression other than apathy. One that I instantly recognized.
Amusement.
And that was when I realized what we were doing. It was the same thing we'd done at Rocky's the night the flames of desire had swallowed us both. Procrastinating. Only then, we'd been procrastinating fire. Now, we were procrastinating pain.
Falling into silence, we were trapped like fireflies in a jar, caught in a moment before acknowledgment or resolution. In a moment where anything was possible. I didn't know what he was thinking, or what he was hoping for. I didn't know if he was even hoping for anything, or if he was just being polite. I couldn't read his face. The contours were drenched in shadows, the line of his jaw uncharacteristically hard.
I was so nervous, but I had to ignore the knots in my stomach. I had to block out the voice telling me that this was the last time I'd ever see him, that I needed to etch his features into my memory. I had to fight through the discomfort and say everything that I needed to say.
Or as much as he allowed me to.
"James ..." I tried, my voice cracking.
He looked up expectantly, his light-hearted demeanor replaced with something more serious. Because it was time. We both knew it was. We couldn't go on procrastinating forever. This time, too much damage had been done.
I took a steady breath.
"I'm sorry."
My apology hung in the air, as still as the leaves on the willow cradling us. He didn't say anything, but his gaze was still fixed on mine. He was still listening.
I fought the urge to look away, to avoid accountability. I had to clean up my mess, even if it hurt me all over again. "I shouldn't have flipped on you the way I did."
"No," he finally spoke. His voice was low. Hoarse. "You shouldn't have."
"I shouldn't have lied to you all for so long, either."
He wasn't as quick to respond that time, his glare fracturing the slightest bit. "You didn't lie, exactly—"
"But I wasn't honest." I couldn't let him make excuses for me. I knew he wanted to—it was just in his nature, just the kind of person he was. But I couldn't let him walk away without knowing that whatever he was feeling was valid. "I want to be honest now. Even if it's too late. I owe you that."
His mouth opened and closed, and I braced myself for an outburst. I was so used to people turning on me, even when I hadn't given them a reason to. James had a reason, and I expected him to throw daggers at me like the ones I'd thrown at him.
But he did something that surprised me. He edged forward, his feet landing on my checked blanket.
And he sat.
I blinked, speechless. I hadn't expected him to let me get this far. I hadn't expected him to stay behind without Noah at all.
But that was just it. My expectations of men were so low that I almost couldn't believe it when one exceeded them. When one listened to me.
"I've always admired you," I told him, relaying my thoughts. "You're so collected. Calm. Strong. All the time."
"I'm so not—"
"You are," I maintained sheepishly, my eyes traveling down to my hands. "You have it all together. And my life is such a mess. It wasn't fair of me to drag you into it. Not when I'm so damaged."
"Madison, you're not damaged." He chuckled to himself, the tension melting from his jaw. "You're a little irritating sometimes. A little sarcastic." His lips pulled into the shadow of a smirk, laughter seeping through his mask. "A little disagreeable."
My face pricked with heat at the word I once used to describe him.
"But not damaged," he continued, his voice like velvet, his gaze just as soft. "Not broken."
His words warmed me, lit my chest like a match. The strongest person I knew was telling me I wasn't weak. But I had been weak—I had—and I didn't fully believe that he didn't think so, too.
"Aren't you mad about the assignment?"
"I mean, I wish you would have told us about it. But mad?" A laugh caught in his throat, and he looked down, heat blossoming on his cheeks. "I'm relieved."
I jerked my head back almost instinctively. "Relieved?"
He ran his tongue along his lips, biting his bottom one before peering up at me. "Dex said he told you about Noah wanting to set us up. That first day in the hall..."
A soft heat danced on my own cheeks, and I bowed my head in confirmation.
"Don't get me wrong, Dex was grateful for your help with Holly. But it wouldn't have been the end of the world if he never saw her again." James shrugged, still eyeing the rug below us. "She would've been another misfire in his endless catalog of crushes. He went along with it for ... well ..."
He couldn't quite say it. But he didn't need to. I understood.
James' friends didn't go along with Project Dex-and-Holly for Dex. They indulged me and my terrible matchmaking for James. So he could spend more time with me.
Something rippled over my skin, making me shiver. Maybe I felt foolish, just as I had when I discovered I was Ivy's lab rat, or maybe I was just embarrassed. Whatever it was, it was a dose of my own medicine, so I swallowed it without complaint.
"I felt guilty," he continued, his face adorably bashful. "That we were wasting so much of your time all because I was ... I don't know ... afraid, maybe. It's not so bad now that I know you were getting something out of it, too. That we weren't the only ones scheming." He gritted his teeth as he finally looked up at me, throwing me a small smile laced with hope. "You did get something out of it, right?"
Oh, I got something out of it, alright. Just maybe not exactly what he was referring to.
"Just tell me one thing."
I captured his gaze, his hungry for answers, mine open and compliant. I would tell him anything. I owed him that much.
"Dex?" he asked. He didn't clarify, but he didn't need to. I knew exactly what he wanted to know.
"I care about him." I shook my head, blinking back the moisture that threatened to spill free. Ever since I'd turned my emotions back on ... God. I'd forgotten why I'd turned them off in the first place. Forgotten how emotional I could be. "I love him. So much. More than I ever meant to. I was committed to keeping people out, James."
His expression softened at the sound of his name leaving my lips, and if my heart hadn't been splintering at the thought of what I'd put Dex through, it would have been soaring with the realization of what that look meant.
"But I can't help it." I swallowed, pushing the wave of tears and guilt down. "I care about him. Truly. And I hate—hate—that I hurt him. I'm not sure if that guilt will ever go away."
It was true. Even after my conversation with Dex, after I'd apologized and he'd forgiven me, there was a tightness in my chest, a sickness bundling my stomach. It was a sensation worse than heartbreak, I thought, because this time, I'd brought pain and betrayal onto someone else. I'd turned into everything I hated.
I drew a sharp breath before I let that thought—that darkness—consume me. I couldn't change the past. But I could learn from it.
James continued to stare. To search every inch of my face. I basked in his appraisal, grateful that he was even looking at me. Had I been in his position, I didn't know whether I would have been capable of doing the same.
"And me?" he prodded. His voice was meeker. Softer.
My stomach knotted more. Run, my head pleaded.
It was my heart that whispered, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't care about you."
He nodded. "I know."
And he did. It's why he hadn't left. Why he was willing to hear me out at all.
But it wasn't enough. Wasn't the whole truth.
I loosed a shaky breath, and told him, "It was real for me."
I meant that, too. I meant it with every inch of what I was.
He blinked. "All of it?"
"All of it."
He breathed then.
I hadn't even realized that he'd been holding his breath, too. Something lifted from his eyes—a veil I hadn't noticed before. I don't know how; without it, his eyes were even clearer, a vast, calm ocean reflecting a cerulean sky.
"All of it," he agreed.
I felt the heat of his body as he leaned in closer. His fingers were inches away from mine, his lips so close that mine parted instinctually. His breath was grazing over my mouth, and that chemistry we always had—raw, impenetrable—threatened to explode. We were potassium meeting francium. We were each going to consume the other, and the reaction would crush my resolve to mush.
Part of me was elated. Pulsing with ecstasy and lifting into the sky. James wanted me. Still. After everything I said to him in the hall, he still wanted me as much as I wanted him.
But that knowledge didn't ease my pain. It only scorched me with a new kind of ache.
I turned away. It was like ripping a nail from my finger. Watching his smile crumble was like a dagger to the chest.
It was hard to speak again, so hard when confusion was stamped all over his face. He was being too understanding, and I hadn't prepared myself for it. I'd expected anger, or hurt, or for him to lash out at me. I'd expected what I knew, expected Eli. I hadn't expected James to still care. I didn't know what to do with forgiveness. I didn't know how to trust that it could be real.
"Why?" I croaked. My vision was growing hazy, and emotions were starting to cloak my throat. "Why are you always so quick to forgive me?"
He tilted his head incredulously, as though I should know. But I didn't. I truly didn't understand.
James sighed. His frown straightened out, and he broke my eye line to trace a finger over a check in the rug below us. "Because I know that you're hurting. And I understand how things must have looked. With Joanna. I understand that it was similar to ... you know. To how things ended with your ex."
God. He was so reasonable. Even when I so wasn't.
"But it shouldn't matter how things looked." I glanced up, guilt overwhelming me. It was like I was trying to convince him to punish me. Like I needed him to be angry so I could convince him not to be. "I should have spoken to you about it. I shouldn't have said the things I did."
"Hey ..." His hand crept closer to mine, his fingers so close that it hurt. "I know what you've gone through, Madison. I know that trust doesn't come easily for you."
"But that's just it, James." I furrowed my brow, shaking my head. "You shouldn't have to make excuses for me all the time. And one day, you're going to get sick of it."
He opened his mouth to disagree, but I cut him off before he got the chance.
"I don't want to be this person. Moody, sad. A wounded baby bird that you have to take care of." I hesitated, truly fighting the words that I knew I had to say. "And I don't want you to think that's who I am, either."
I hadn't realized it until after I'd spoken to Dex. I hadn't realized how far I'd strayed from my true self, and how much I wanted to change. To move forward. Because, even though I wanted to be splintered from Elijah for good, splintered from everything that happened back home, the truth was that I wasn't. Not yet. Him, Lola, dad, it was all still haunting me.
James said something to me once. That night in my room, before everything became a tangled mess, he told me that he didn't want to be my rebound. And I realized that I didn't want him to be my rebound, either. My heart twinged, because I wanted him to be so much more.
But I wasn't sure whether I was ready for more. Not because I didn't want it, but because I was scared of what would happen if I got it.
I ached for James. I knew that I was falling for him, for his witty one-liners, for that challenging edge to his smile that sent my heart racing. For the way he said my name and the fondness that creased his eyes when he said it. And I could see so clearly now: James wanted me, too. I could taste it on his lips when we kissed. Feel it on his fingertips when they grazed over my skin. Even now, after everything I'd said and done, I knew that I could have him.
But for how long? How long would it be before my trust issues roused again, before that pessimistic voice in my head overthought something trivial and flooded me with paranoia? Before it pulled on my tongue and pierced him with more cruel words?
What if the next time I screwed up was the last time? What if I ruined everything for good, beyond the point of return, all because I hadn't given myself the chance to truly heal?
If James and I ever had a shot at making things work, then we needed to set a fresh foundation. I couldn't look at him as a solution to the hollow ache in my chest, and he couldn't look at me as something that he needed to fix.
"James." His name fell from my lips in a breath, a tortured exhale of air that carried some of the storm raging through my mind.
He felt my pain instantly. His body pressed against mine as he draped an arm over my shoulders, his brow furrowed in a concoction of concern and intrigue.
Even when he was hurting, he yearned to comfort me.
I knew what I had to do. And while it sliced and fractured my already battered heart, I knew at the same time that it was the right thing to do. I wasn't ready for him. I couldn't be what he needed me to be. In the state I was in, I would only end up breaking his heart, too.
"I have a lot of issues," I tried to explain. "I want you, I do." His eyes flashed so suddenly that it startled me, but I forced myself to press on. "But I don't know if I'm ready to be the girl that you deserve."
"Don't say that," he scolded me, deepening his frown. "You're more than I deserve."
His words flipped my heart all over again, the way he was staring at me and holding me threatening to intoxicate my senses. To crush my resolve, to make me selfish and discard everything that I was trying to do to protect him.
But I couldn't back down. I had to be strong. Not just for the sake of his heart, but for the sake of mine, too.
At the end of the day, that's what it all came down to. I didn't know whether I was ready for something new, or whether I could handle the consequences of another bad ending. I'd been knocked down so many times that I'd almost forgotten how to stand, and I wasn't sure how many more times I could fall down before I collapsed for good.
I hadn't been single since I was thirteen years old. And, honestly, I didn't know who Madison Watson was without a boy by her side. I owed it to myself to figure that out. That's what my resolutions had been about, even if I hadn't realized it at the time. I was trying to regain control of my life, trying to carve an identity for myself as an individual instead of as one half of a pair. I was trying to build something of my own so that I wouldn't need a boy to catch me if I fell.
But before I could figure out who I was or what I wanted, I had to give myself the chance to heal.
I took a deep, steady breath. "You deserve the world. You're sweet and thoughtful and so, so kind. You deserve someone who can love you with their whole heart, who can give it to you—broken bits and all. And I just don't know," I tried again, "if I'm ready."
It only took a second for the crease in his brow to straighten out, for something to click in his brilliant mind.
Both options were selfish. If I gave in to the urge to melt into James' embrace, I was being selfish. If I cooled things off for the benefit of my well-being, I was being selfish. But only one of those choices protected him, too. Even if it meant that I could never have him. Even if everything we were and everything we ever had been ended in that courtyard. I was ready to risk losing him to keep us both safe, ready for him to hate me today instead of hating me more tomorrow.
But when I glanced up into his eyes, they were gushing with affection. His lips weren't curled; they were lifted into the smallest, sweetest kind of smile. And when he said my name, he said it as tenderly as ever.
"Madison," he mumbled softly, a bittersweet grin toying with his lips. "Waiting for you was never an issue."
I swallowed hard, realizing that tears were cloaking my throat.
"I'm not asking you to wait for me, James." And I wasn't. I needed him to know that. Because that wasn't fair.
His hand found its place on my cheek. He ran his thumb across it gently, generating sparks underneath. "You don't have to."
My eyelids fluttered closed as I tilted my face into his palm. I don't know why James was always so kind to me. Why he was always so patient and understanding. Part of me refused to buy into it. It tried to see through his pure intentions.
But that was exactly the part of me that I needed to retrain.
If I went through life seeing the worst in others, then I would never find their light. If I went through life believing that heartbreak was inevitable, then I would never find love.
But James wasn't a storybook prince, and I wasn't a damsel. He couldn't save me. The only person who could save me was me. And the only thing that could heal me was time.
We played the movie and ate our burgers. James had to finish mine—I'd thought with my stomach and not my head, going overboard with the trimmings. He wasn't kidding about Grease being his guilty pleasure. He had to have known every single slice of random trivia there was to know about it. And while I rolled my eyes every time one of the characters broke out into song, making some sardonic comment about how stupid it would be if someone did that in real life, I couldn't help but fall victim to his enthusiasm when he sang along.
But during his favorite part of the movie—when slick Danny was drag-racing Leo—James was looking at me. I could tell by that distant glaze over his eyes that he had been for some time.
He reached out, curling a lock of hair behind my ear that had been dancing on the breeze, rich with the smell of roses. His finger slid along my jaw, and he whispered, "Friends can tell each other they're beautiful, right?"
I blinked back a fresh wave of tears, leaning into his touch like a desperate stray. "I hope so." Because he was. James was beautiful. He was the light in my darkest hour. He was the color when my world turned gray. He was ... everything. Sun and moon and stars. And I was going to tell him that. I was going to make up for every second I doubted him.
His thumb swept over my cheek, and he took a damn long time retracting his hand.
Not potassium and francium. Not hydrogen and sulfur. Not at all. Hydrogen and oxygen. Together, we could make something wonderful.
If we dared.
If I dared.
That's when I realized just how difficult this was going to be. Not just for me, but for James as well. Waiting for me wasn't going to be easy for him. But that's how I knew that I could trust him with my heart. Maybe not yet, but someday.
Because the fact that my heart could break so many times wasn't a curse. It was a reminder. A reminder that I had one.
And as long as I did, I was capable of loving again.
I can't believe that I'm writing this, but ... that's it!
^^ Actual footage of me (and not David Tennant).
Final thoughts?
Before I wrap things up (for now ...), I want to say a huge THANK YOU to all of my incredible readers. An even bigger thank you to those who actively engaged in the story from start to finish. With every vote and every comment, you increased my passion and love for this story one hundred times over. You encouraged me to keep writing, to keep updating, and with every chapter I found myself falling more and more in love with these characters and with their world. This story truly wouldn't be what it is without your support!
But, we're not quite finished yet—
What's next for THH?
First, there's a reason why some loose ends haven't yet been tied up. And that reason is ... there is going to be a sequel! I can't say much, but I can reveal that it will be a double-sequel (is that a thing?), meaning it will include characters from BOTH of my Wattpad stories. The awesome foursome from THH will all make an appearance, but the book will focus on one of your favorites in particular! You certainly don't have to read both stories in order to understand the plot, but I would recommend it.
Second, this is not the end for Madi, James, Dex, or Noah! I have a fun idea for a new project up my sleeve, so make sure you're following me either here on Wattpad or over on Instagram (danielletalbury) for announcements. Again, I can't say much, but I can say that I have a feeling that you'll love it.
Third, I'm hoping to roll out an epilogue AND bonus chapters as/if we hit milestones. Inline comment here requests for future bonuses, including other character POVs and events any time before, during, or after the story.
Also, if you have any outstanding questions (whether they're plot, character, or behind-the-scenes related), inline comment here for a Q&A.
Please support the story's growth by voting on all of the chapters if you haven't already! I can't stress enough how valuable this kind of data is here on Wattpad.
I recommend that you keep this book in your library if you want to be updated when the new chapters and epilogue are uploaded, or add it to a list where you can keep an eye on it!
Once again, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for supporting me on my WP journey!
With love,
Danielle x