Page 63 of The Story Of Us

“My password hasn’t changed.”

From the side of my eye, I can see her tapping in the four-digit password that we made up together, a combination of both of our favourite numbers because using our birthdays didn’t exactly make sense when they were the same.

I haven’t changed anything on my phone since she last used it so she easily navigates to Spotify. I keep my focus on the road but then I remember all of the Taylor Swift songs that have been on repeat since we broke up because it made me feel closer to her to listen to her favourite songs.

Whenever we listened to music together, we always used our ‘on repeat’ playlists because it felt like an easier way to share how we were feeling without saying it. I hope that she’ll decide to listen to something else instead, but the small gasp she lets out tells me she’s tapped on it.

“This is a lot of folkmore,” she says, scrolling through it, and I can feel my cheeks burning.

“I’ve been listening to them while I study.”

I don’t tell her that I feel like I’ve been relating to too many of the lyrics lately, especially the ones about regret. I also hope she doesn’t notice the lack of other albums on there, the more romantic ones that hurt too much to listen to, because I associated them all with her.

She stops scrolling and taps on a song, Taylor’s voice carrying through the car for the rest of the drive. We mainly make small talk, and I think both of us are unsure of what we can and can’t talk about with this new dynamic we’re in.

We knew pretty much everything about each other before, but now there’s this gap of a few months where I didn’t hear about every part of her day. I’m greedy for it, though. I want to hear about everything I missed out on. I could listen to her talk for hours on end just to catch up. But that conversation seems a little heavy for a first date, so I will keep it to myself.

When we finally reach our destination, I park up and quickly rush around the car to open her door for her and she thanks me as she gets out. When I close the door and lock it, instinct wants me to take her hand, hold it in mine as I guide her to where we’re going, but I don’t.

She looks around, arms crossed over her chest, and there’s a chill in the air that has me wanting to take my hoodie off and give it to her.

“Now, will you tell me where we’re going?”

I point behind her to the small bookstore that I’ve been in contact with all week and she turns to look at it before spinning back to me.

“Really?” She can’t hide the excitement in her voice as she clutches onto my arm, squeezing tightly.

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it.”

Violet lets out a little squeal, nails digging into my arms, but I don’t even mind the pain - I want any marks that she’ll leave behind. She lets go and turns around, practically skipping towards the store. I’m frozen as I watch her, the smile on her face before she went lighting me up from the inside. She doesn’t get too far away before she realises I’m not following her, and then she comes back to me, taking my hand in hers and pulling me with her.

In that moment, I know I’ll follow wherever she goes.

25

VIOLET

When Isaac opens the door to the small bookstore, the warmth that had been completely focused on the hand that’s holding his now spreads throughout my entire body. The store is cosy, the walls lined with shelves of books, both new and old, and I think I could spend hours here without getting bored. There’s only one other person in the store, an older lady with a wide grin on her face standing behind the checkout desk.

“Isaac?” she says, eyebrows raised in question.

“That’s me,” he says, stepping ahead of me to shake her hand. “Thank you so much for letting me do this.”

“It’s no problem at all, my dear.”

I look back and forth between the two of them, trying to figure out what I’m missing exactly. This isn’t a place I’d have expected Isaac to visit before - not because he doesn’t like reading but because he only ever read the books I told him about.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, still looking at them both, and I notice the smile on her face get even bigger when she looks down at mine and Isaac’s joined hands. I squeeze his hand lightly, hoping he’ll answer me, but he’s completely silent, not even sparing a glance in my direction.

“Oh!” The lady exclaims before pulling a small card out from underneath the desk. “This is for you, dear.” She hands it over to me, and Isaac finally looks at me, chewing his bottom lip.

“Open it.” He nods his head towards it, and I reluctantly let go of his hand to unfold the card.

The last book you told me to read

I look up at him again, and he’s staring straight at me, beautiful green eyes that seem to be saying so much. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before swallowing.

“Do you remember it?”

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