Page 133 of Falling

His words are almost enough to make me break all over again, but I don’t let them. I bade that feeling of belonging welcome home.

“I’m sorry,” I say, “I hate crying.”

He smiles softly. “Why?”

“Because it makes me feel weak. I’m not weak.” I bite the words out and wonder if I’ll ever stop feeling this way. I prefer to keep these emotions inside. Everything has always worked better that way. But maybe they don’t need to.

“You’re the strongest person I know, but crying doesn’t make you weak,” he whispers, brushing my hair out of my face. He lets out a soft chuckle. “I cry all the time.”

That jolts me right in the chest, and I hold him tighter. “I’m sorry for not being there for you. I should have had your back too. I’ve been so caught up in my own shit that I didn’t check in on you, and that's a real dick move from me. I’m sorry.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s okay to take time to process your own thoughts.” He taps the side of my head a few times. “Just let me in here sometimes, okay? I want to know what’s going on in there too.”

I scoff. “It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, Miles.”

“I know,” he says, grinning. “You just tell me when you need a minute, for whatever reason, and take time for yourself. I won’t judge you. I just want you to know that I’ve got you.”

I swallow. “You’ve got me?”

“Yeah, I’ve got you, sweet girl. Always.”

He holds me tighter, and in that embrace, I feel the weight of the past few weeks lifting, replaced by the steady, reassuring beat of his heart against mine. The world outside might still be chaotic, but in this moment, with Miles holding me, I know we'll be okay. We have to be.

For the first time in a long time, I feel seen. I feel valued. And most importantly, I feel loved.

43

MILES

IS BULLYING REALLY A LOVE LANGUAGE?

“Doyou think you’ll get an award?” Wren asks, coming up behind me in the mirror while I brush my teeth. She’s wearing my shirt and nothing else as she bends over me to pick up her toothbrush. God, I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of this. I watch her in the mirror, holding tight onto my toothbrush.

“Considering how I was on the bench at the start of the season and I’ve only just got back on the team, I’m not expecting to,” I say through a foamy smile before spitting in the sink and rinsing.

“Well, it’s your help that pushed you guys to the finals, right?” she asks.

I shrug. In all honesty, I wasn’t expecting the Bears to do so well this season, but we’ve somehow made it to the conference final next week. Despite Jake’s unnecessary insults that he spits out on the ice, we’ve been stronger than ever, and I can’t wait for us to bring this championship home. We’ve been through a lot as a team. We deserve it.

“I guess you could say that,” I say, and she grins. I move behind her, and she nods, placing her toothbrush back in her mouth.I wrap my arms around her stomach, resting my chin on her shoulder like it belongs there. “Do you think you will win?”

She rinses, but I can see the smile creeping up on her face.

All the sports students look forward to NU’s sports achievement evening every year. It usually happens every April, awarding medals and certificates to the students who have performed well that year. I almost forgot about it until Wren reminded me last weekend to find another decent outfit since we’ll be going together.

I got to watch my girl last weekend completely smash the competition at her national championship final. She performed a complicated as fuck routine to Stephen Fry’sFlying,and I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. She wasn’t nervous or anxious about it, and she got up there and won the entire thing. It helped that all of her friends were in the crowd; even Sophia and a few of her friends were there too. Her dad came with a huge banner and almost threw up next to me as he went on about how excited and nervous he was. Miss Hackerly didn’t show up, but after Wren explained to me what went down between them, I wasn’t expecting her to. Regardless, she did her best, and she came off the ice with a smile.

“I mean, I was crowned the winner of the National Collegiate Championships, so maybe,” she says, turning and leaning against the sink. “It’s not like Darcy has many options.”

“Cocky,” I mutter.

“Confident,” she corrects, and she flashes that cocky–confident grin at me, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’re going to win, for sure,” I say, and she rolls her eyes.

“Of course you’re going to say that. You’re biased because we’re sleeping together,” she says.

“Sleeping together?” I echo, taken aback. She bites the inside of her cheek and nods, trying not to smile. I know she’s saying that just to get under my skin. “You’re my girlfriend, Wren; we’re not just sleeping together.”

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