Page 50 of Our Ruined Beginnings

The distant sound of an alarm pulls me from sleep, and I roll over, grab a pillow, and shove it over my ears to block the intrusive sound. I reach for the other side of the bed, nuzzling deeper into the comforter, but frown when I find it empty.

Peeling my eyes open, disappointment sinks into my stomach like lead.

The sun streams through the gap in the curtains, casting a glow over the room, but instead of warmth and comfort, I only feel cold.

I’d let myself hope … though I should have known that was a childish notion.

Whatever happened between Madden and me last night was clearly not the start of a new beginning. An ending seems more appropriate—the end of this tiny reprieve we had.

I pull in a deep breath, letting the realization soak in as I drag my eyes over his bedroom. His backpack is gone, and the shoes and clothes tossed on the floor no longer litter the space. The only reminder that he was ever here is an envelope on his bedside table, aHstamped on top in his scrawl.

Forcing myself from the bed, I grab the shirt I’d left on the floor and tug it over my body before letting my fingers curl around the white envelope. My heart skips a beat as I peel the glue apart, and that glimmer of squashed hope relights, fueling my movements. Words have never been his strong suit, so perhaps he didn’t know what to say to me when he woke this morning, instead choosing to write it down.

A sharp breath hisses through clenched teeth as I pull it open and tip the contents onto the table.

That swirling hope sours instantly, turning to shame and frustration as green notes flutter against the wood. A smaller, rectangular card follows, the wordthankswritten in black ink. A bitter laugh chokes my throat.Instead of a goodbye, I get a wad of notes and a fuckingthanks?

What a dick.

I grab the cash, my fingers burning with the urge to rip it apart, and rush from his room.

It takes me less than an hour to gather my few meager belongings, and by the time I’m slinging my backpack over my shoulder, angry tears roll down my face, and my breaths come out in heavy pants.

Fuck him.

Fuck him and fuck his patheticthanks.

I make my way downstairs, making it to the front door before I hear my name being called from the kitchen. Closing my eyes, I hold my breath and straighten my back. The last thing I want right now is to seem ungrateful to Mrs. Taylor for letting me stay, but I also don’t have the words after everything that’s happened.

“Now, I know you weren’t planning to leave without a goodbye, young lady,” she jests, a lazy smile on her face when I spin to face her. At this moment, I’m taken aback by just how much her expression looks like his at times, and before I can stop myself, I crumble.

Heavy sobs rack my body, and my shoulders slump forward. I fall into her when she folds her arms around me, whispering softly in my ear. We stay there for a while, me pouring all my pain into her unwavering strength, and she never falters. How many times can one person break before they can’t repair themselves?

“Come on,” she says, grabbing my hand and tugging me into the lounge with her.

She tucks me into the couch, folding a blanket around my legs, and my fingers dance along the cotton, my eyes refusing to look up at her.

“You know, my son can be a right asshole at times.” She laughs, though it’s without humor. “I don’t pretend to know all that’s going on between you two, but I do know that you’re both struggling.”

“Understatement of the year,” I murmur sadly, my eyes zeroing in on the way her lips downturn. I force my gaze upward, taking in the sympathy in her eyes. “He hates me. Did he tell you that? He blames me, and I get it. I blame me too.”

With a sigh, I turn to face the wall of photos above the fireplace. Memories of better times are splayed across the wall—pictures of Madden and Caleb; me and Caleb; me and Madden… If there were ever a place that felt like home, it was here. This was my family, until it wasn’t.

“He doesn’t hate you, Harper. Anyone with eyes can see that, especially over the last couple of weeks since you’ve been here. I’d argue my son feels many strong emotions for you, but hate could never be one of them.”

“He’s different now,” I tell her. “At least, with me. From a distance, he’s the same self-assured man he’s always been. But then I get close, and he’s filled with rage. All of it gets aimed at me. He won’t let me justliveanymore.” Suddenly, I want to tell her everything. How he’s made my life hell since I showed up at DU. Or that he got his friends involved, and they’ve spent the last four months bullying me to the point where they got me fired from my job and put on enrollment warning. While everyone’s out here praising Madden for being the golden boy,I’mthe one who has to deal with the real him.

I take a moment to wipe away the tears before continuing. “I don’t know the boy you do—not anymore. He doesn’t exist. And the worst part of it all”—I scoff, shaking my head at my own stupidity—“is that it still isn’t enough for me to walk away. All I can think about is the Madden I used to know, the one who I thought would be in my life forever, and for some stupid reason, I cling to that. I cling to the hope that he’ll turn around and say sorry. That he’ll decide he doesn’t hate me anymore, and that things can go back to the way they were. But that’s never going to happen.”

“Harper, I…” Mrs. Taylor sighs, scooting in closer until she can wrap an arm around my shoulders. “I won’t pretend to understand the position you’re in,” she says softly, her fingers rubbing gentle circles into the skin on my free arm. “But I do know that none of this is your fault, Harper. Madden is confused.” My eyes snap up to meet hers, and there’s a sharp retort on my tongue, but she continues before I can verbalize it. “I’m not excusing his behaviors, nor will I deny the anger behind them. If you walk out this door and never come back, never speak to my son again, I will understand and support that decision. But I also hate watching what this summer has done to you … to both of you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“He’s always thought the world of you. You were his best friend, both of theirs. The first day they met you, they came home bragging about this little girl. They couldn’t praise you enough. And then you started hanging around here more, and you becamemore. For Caleb, you became like a sister, and selfishly, I loved that. I always wanted more children, but it was never in the cards for us, so we clung to that. Madden, on the other hand…”

She trails off, her eyes finding a photo tucked away in the corner of the wall. It’s from graduation day, and my heart stutters for a beat as I take in the hold Madden has around my waist. There’s a carefree smile on my face, and his mouth is tucked against my ear, whispering something to me.

“You were never a sibling to him,” she says, her tone wistful. “You two were like magnets. Always finding each other, deliberately or not. I remember how hard he begged to come home early for your graduation, like seeing you walk was the most important thing to him. You would always end up being the center of each other’s universes one day—there was never a doubt. I’m not going to say I know what is going on in my son’s head right now, but I can’t imagine it’s easy to see a future you envisioned so clearly disappear from you. He lost both of you that day.”

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