Page 48 of Our Ruined Beginnings

For a single moment, it’s like the world disappears around us, leaving us lost in this weird reverie. It’s been years since I last had that shirt in my possession, and while I had my theories of where it could have ended up, it’s like a punch in the gut to know that even now—despite all the obstacles between us—she still wears it to bed.

We lapse back into comfortable silence, and when my mouth opens again, words on the tip of my tongue, the timer on the oven beeps. I bite back my comment as Harper seems to snap out her own head and rushes over to pull it open.

Steam blasts through the kitchen, almost suffocating as it fills the air, but it quickly dissipates, leaving only the scent of the cookies behind. A familiar scent—one I thought I might never smell again.

“Are you taking these in for the team?” I ask, raising a brow, and she narrows her eyes.

“You knew that was me?”

“Not straight away, but the loaded brownies tipped me off. Figured you’d been baking, and no one could eat a whole tray of those themselves.” I laugh, thinking back to all the times I tried.

She gives me a strained smile before turning to start clearing up.

Once everything is back to how it was before she started, she transfers the cookies onto a wire rack and takes a step back, propping her hands against her hips.

“Taste test,” I murmur, breaking off a chunk and lifting it to my lips.

Harper chuckles softly, her head moving back and forth in amusement. “It’s 3 a.m.”

“And? I didn’t make the rules, remember?”

“Yeah, well, when I made the rules about taste testing, I wasn’t planning to be using your kitchen in the early hours because I can’t sleep…” She sighs softly.

Her eyes find mine, and she takes a small step toward the counter, bringing her right against my side. It would be so easy, in this moment, to wrap my arms around her and breathe her in.

My body hums with the urge.

God. I miss her so fucking much, even if she’s right there.

Needing to do something—anything—with my hands that isn’t touching her, I offer a bite up to her lips. She frowns and shakes her head, but I cock a brow at her, and she relents, her full lips falling open.

She chews thoughtfully as I take a large bite, the sweet and salty mix exploding on my tongue.

“These may be your best ones yet,” I say truthfully, but she looks away quickly, her lips turning down slightly at the corners. “You don’t like them? They were always your favorite.”

“I do. It’s just…” She trails off, her eyes darting around the room and looking anywhere but me.

For some reason, that stings, and a tiny voice in the back of my mind screams at her to continue speaking. To look at me and give me something real, something to remind me of who we were before everything changed. It’s hard to ignore, and for tonight, I choose not to. “Just what, Lilypad?”

“It’s the first time I’ve eaten what I baked since before graduation.”

A bitter laugh slips past her lips with her confession, and the room seems to grow cold with the mention of that night.

It’s a bitter reminder of everything, and I pull in a heavy breath, holding it in my lungs for a long moment.

What the fuck am I doing, trying to get us back to anything resembling who we were back then? Why do I keep forgetting what she did—who she turned out to be?

I take a slow step back, committing her standing in my kitchen, wearing my shirt to memory, because this can’t happen again.

“Madden,” she whispers, but I shake my head and force myself out the kitchen, the cookie in my hand landing in the trash can with a light thud as I pass. “Please,” she calls, her tone almost desperate as she calls after me.

“No,” I snap, whipping around to stare at her. My hands curl at my sides, my blunt nails digging into my palms. “You don’t get to ask me for anything.”

She blows out a shaky breath, her eyes glistening with unspent emotion as she whispers the two words I’ve been wanting to hear for months, but the words that are too late to make a single difference. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I scoff, leaning against the doorframe and folding my arms across my chest.

“Of course I am.”

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