Page 69 of The Story Of Us

I tell her that we decided to keep it a secret, how it felt like something fragile and precious and we just wanted to keep it to ourselves.

I tell her about the breakup and that he ended things with me the day after our seventeenth birthday.

I tell her as much as I can without exposing how deeply I feel for him.

I don’t tell her about the devastation I felt after that day.

I don’t tell her that we spoke on the phone every single night until we fell asleep together because I wanted his voice to be the last thing I heard.

I don’t tell her about sneaking into that classroom every chance we could get just to be with each other for a moment between classes because it felt like torture to pretend we weren’t anything to each other.

I don’t tell her that I think he’s the love of my life.

By the time I’m finished, my cheeks are wet, and I’m wiping at them with the sleeves of my sweater.

“That was a lot,” Avery says, but there’s no judgment in her voice. She’s just stating a fact. It was a lot, and saying it all out loud like that has me realising what a huge part of my life Isaac has been.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” I say quietly, starting at my lap because halfway through, it felt too difficult to look at Avery’s face as she realised just how much I’d been hiding from her.

“It’s because you still love him.”

I let out a huff, but the word hits me right in the chest.

“I never said I loved him.”

I try to play it off, to act like it’s not that big of a deal because I already feel like I’ve told her too much, and admitting that I love him out loud feels like something I can’t do yet.

The entire time I was with Isaac today, that word kept floating around my head and my heart, but I did my best to ignore it because I’m too scared to face it. I don’t know when it happened when I realised that I’d completely fallen for him, and that, as much as I wish could say I stopped, I never did. Everything he’s been doing since we came back to school, all the effort he’s made, and especially with what he did today, confirms to me that he hasn’t stopped either.

During the months we spent apart, he was still at the forefront of my mind, the first thing I thought about when I woke up and the last before I fell asleep. I tried my hardest to ignore them, to get rid of them so I could try to recover from breaking up with him, but it was impossible.

We never said the words to each other, and I think we both must have thought it was too big of a thing to say, but there’s no doubt in my mind that what we had was love.

What we still have is love.

“You didn’t have to say it, I could tell. Your face lit up at the start when you spoke about him. I’ve never seen you look like that before. And when you got to the end, you seemed so sad.”

I sniffle, wiping at my face again to stop the seemingly never-ending tears, and I don’t know what to say to her. I wanted her advice, but I don’t know how to ask for it. Avery knows, though, and I listen as she starts to speak.

“Violet, I don’t think it would be a terrible idea if you started seeing him again.”

I finally look at her, and the concern on her face is clear, but she’s also smiling a little.

“I think you had something really special with him. And even though he did that to you, and I kind of hate him for it, it seems like he’s doing everything he can now to make it up to you. I’m not saying you have to rush into anything, but just see where it goes.”

I nod as she pulls me into a hug. I hold on to her tightly, so grateful that she’s not mad at me for hiding this from her for so long.

“I really want to,” I tell her, finding it easier to speak while she’s holding me together.

“That’s good. And this time, you can go into it knowing that if he ever hurts you again, I will string him up-”

“Okay, that’s enough of that.” I let out a small laugh, pulling back from her before she could get into too much detail. She wipes my cheeks with her hand, giving me a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry for not telling you before.”

“Honestly, I’m a little annoyed that I could have been living vicariously through you this whole time, and you didn’t let me. He sounds so romantic.”

“He is,” I tell her, and then she asks more questions about him, butterflies fluttering through my stomach as I finally get to talk about all of the wonderful things he’s done for me.

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