Page 71 of Our Ruined Beginnings

Life.

There’s life in this room, where for months only shadows and pain lived.

A wobbly inhale shakes my chest as my eyes lock on the figure on the bed. Caleb’s face—so similar to mine—breaks into a bright grin, and he laughs at the way my jaw falls slack. “Gotta say, it’s been a while since I’ve seen that face,” he says, with some effort. He looks drained, like he’s just run a marathon, and his voice rasps, but he’s here. He’s here.

“Surprising,” I choke, trying and failing to keep composure as I close the distance to his bed. “You’ve never been able to stay away from a mirror that long.”

“Had to get my beauty sleep, didn’t I?”

“You always have been a lazy fucker.”

Caleb’s laughter booms through the room, bouncing off the walls as I stop at his bedside. I grab his hand, feeling the steady thump of his pulse as my thumb finds his wrist, and something inside me begins to heal with each pulse against his skin. He doesn’t even take the piss like I expected him to.

“God, I’ve fucking missed you,” I breathe. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days…”

“Yeah, I guess so. Do you remember anything?”

“It’s all a bit hazy, but I’ve been through this with Mom already.” His eyes glaze over, and he settles his gaze on the window. “Apparently, that’s normal—to not remember straight away. Maybe ever. I might be a bit more forgetful than usual, perks of a brain injury. Took you long enough to get here.”

I check my watch with a cocked brow. “Seven hours from door to door. I don’t think that’s too bad.”

“Harper made it in six,” he says, his eyes assessing me shrewdly, even with the heavy lids. I look around the room, but she’s not here. Has she left already?

“Are you tired?” I ask, partly because he looks it and partly to avoid the disappointment that I know is coming.

“I’ve been asleep for half a year, Mad,” he jokes, but there’s little humor truly there. I sigh, resigned to the conversation as I take the seat next to him.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “She won’t see me.”

I frown in confusion. She made it before me, didn’t she? That’s what he just said?

“I could hear Mom on the phone to her, hear her crying when she told her I was awake. I heard Mom and Dad whispering about her refusing to come in before you in case she pisses you off. My best friend, Mad. She wouldn’t see me because ofyou. The fuck have you done?”

“Caleb, I don’t think now is the best time to have this conversation,” I start, but he scoffs, even as his lids slowly close. He knows I’m being a coward as much as I do.

“What better time?” He gestures to the wires still hooked to his body, monitoring his stats. “I’m not going anywhere, and you know Mom and Dad are gonna give us time to catch up. So catch me up so we can come up with a plan as to how the fuck you’re going to fix this stupid mess you’ve apparently made.”

“I don’t know that there’s any fixing this.”

“You’re Madden Taylor,” he says, as if that’s supposed to mean something. “You always get what you want, and we aren’t about to let your dream girl walk away because you’ve been a dick.”

My eyes narrow. “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother? You’ve never been team Harper and Madden.”

“I’ve always been team Harper and Madden.” He shrugs. “But my best friend and twin brother getting together? Where’s the fun in that if I can’t take the piss while you two pussyfoot around each other? Now, talk to me. Let’s see if we can’t figure your shit out.”

Hours pass by as Caleb and I sit, talking. His disappointment grows, along with his frustration and anger, which I’m not too proud to admit I deserve.

Mom and Dad return from their wanderings, both interjecting their own opinions of how I canfixthings with Harper, but I’m still as clueless as I was when she first walked away from me.

How does one replace months of bad memories in a single moment? Months of blame—of torment? I refuse to watch her walk away again, but I don’t know how to get her to stay. Why would she even want to?

“You have more to offer than you think,” Caleb says, his brow cocked. My own must furrow in confusion, as he barks out a laugh and stares at me pointedly. “You’re not a quiet thinker, Mad. In fact, you’ve been muttering under your breath for about five minutes. We’re all just enjoying the play-by-play.”

I flick my gaze over my family, each one staring at me with varying degrees of amusement, though it’s my mom who holds my attention. A sad smile plays on her lips, and her eyes are misty, filled with a thousand emotions.

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