Page 58 of Falling For Us Again

“Oh, come on,” he cuts me off with a playful grin. “Don’t be modest. You write novels people actually want to read. That’s more than most of us can say.”

I laugh. It’s comforting how easy it is to fall into conversation with him, despite everything. Despite the history between us—between him and Dylan.

“How have you been?”

He nods. “Life’s good; I can't complain.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You deserve it.”

“I tried reaching out to you after you left, but you’d changed your number.”

I nod solemnly. “I did.”

“You know, I was so surprised when I got the signed package of your first book. I thought I was being trolled for a while until I got the second and third books. Now, I anticipate a package every time I hear that you're working on a new book.”

“It’s just my way of saying thank you, you know,” I say after a beat, meeting his eyes. “You helped me leave Hartlow in the first place. Even if it cost you your friendship with Dylan.”

His smile falters for a second at the mention of Dylan. He winces before he speaks. “You were hurting really bad here. I'm glad I could help.” He shrugs. “I can't blame Dylan for cutting me off though; I probably would have done the same thing.”

We watch our classmates together in silence, the soft music playing a soothing backdrop to our conversation.

“I have to ask, now that you're back in Hartlow.”

I cut him off. “I’m not back in Hartlow, per se. I'm only here to sell my parents’ property.”

He clicks his teeth. “Done with this town, are you?”

I bite my lips. “There’s nothing here for me anymore.”

“There’s Dylan.” He says, peering at me intently with those dark eyes.

“No.” I shake my head. “We’ve spent a decade apart. He hates me for what he thinks we did, and how I left things. I hurt him badly. I’ll be leaving soon, and he’ll be back to hating me again.”

Even as I say this, it sounds hollow to my ears now. Last night was different. Hearing him whisper how much he missed me as we fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms awakened something in me. I’m afraid of the implications of these emotions, and so I refuse to dwell on them.

I remind myself that I can't let Dylan back into my life. His mother will always hate me, and I don't think I can handle that hostility in my life.

I need to sell my parents’ house and leave Hartlow as soon as possible.

His expression is more serious now. “I’m not sure if I should be saying this, but it was hard for him when you left. Really tough to see him struggle like that.”

“I left town shortly after, but he was deeply hurt. I always wondered if you two would ever find your way back to each other.”

My throat is suddenly dry. The weight of his words settles heavy in my chest. “We’re not... I mean, it’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” Paul says with a rueful smile. “Have you told him the truth?”

I don't need to look at him to know what he's talking about. Dylan thought we betrayed him by sleeping with each other, but we never did.

We all fell apart over it. Over a lie. A necessary one, but a lie nonetheless.

“No.”

“You should. He still believes that we slept together. He deserves to know the truth.”

I know he’s right.

Paul sighs before squeezing my hand lightly. He doesn’t push the subject and I'm grateful for that.

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