Page 128 of Breaking Point

“Charlotte, I’m so sorry I didn’t come after… after what happened.”

“Don’t apologize.” She’s looking down at her hands. For the first time since I’ve known her, I see a single tear roll down her cheek. “I was the one in the wrong. I’m sorry that I lied. I’m sorry that I left. I…”

“I understand,” I whisper. “I knew what your parents were doing- even if it was indirectly. But… I knew. It just… hurts… And… after my dad…” I don’t even realize I’m crying until two warm tears slip down my face. “I didn’t know how to deal. I’m so sor-“

Charlotte pulls me into a hug, effectively silencing me as we wrap our arms around each other and squeeze. She’s warm and the longer we sit like this, the more I realize just how much I missed her.

“No more apologizing,” she whispers into my hair, and I pull her tighter at the words.

“You and Skar seem happy,” I say as I draw back to look at her.

She laughs, swiping the tears from her eyes. “September 28th was a year, you know. That man- He drives me crazy.”

I smile, remembering the first few times seeing them bicker and fight when they always thought no one else was listening. “He always has.”

She smiles, sniffling as she looks at me again. “You realize that you’re gonna have to update me on what’s going on between you and Warden, right?”

I shake my head at thought, brushing my hair over my shoulder. “He told you?”

She chuckles. “No, you’re both just obvious as hell.” She shakes her head, leaning her head back against the wall. “I hate this place.”

“Yeah,” I nearly laugh.

We both have our reasons. It doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to guess why.

I sigh. “I think I’d like to go home now.”

“Have you talked to your father yet?” she asks.

I shake my head. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me, but I know I’ll have to sooner or later. He shot someone, and even if it had been life or death, it doesn’t change the fact that things are different.

“Part of me doesn’t want to. But I’ve done a lot of avoiding lately… and that needs to change,” I say instead.

We have a lot to hash out.

She nods, and when her eyes lift over my shoulder, I know that it’s because we’re not alone any more. Crew stands outside, talking with one of the doctors though I’m sure one ear is on at least part of our conversation.

The sight of him has a wave of longing tugging at me, and Charlotte must see it because she squeezes my hand again. “I think I’ll give you two a minute.”

She nudges Crew’s shoulder as she leaves, and Crew dips his head as the doctor says something else before leaving. Now it’s just him and me. He leans against the doorframe, dark bags under his eyes and five o’clock shadow more prominent than usual.

There’s no sign of the blood that had been covering him the last time I saw him, but I know the doctors had to patch up a bullet wound or two. The memory of it has a crushing sense of relief falling over me as I stand. His eyes follow the movement.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Princess,” he sighs, and I smile at the sound of that nickname on his tongue.

I can’t name the wave of emotion that overwhelms me in that moment. All I know is that it’s terrifying… and amazing… and so many other things, all at once. Yet only Crew Warden has ever made me feel any of them.

I clear my throat, trying my best not to think about everything that’s waiting for me back in reality.

“How would you feel about a drive?” I ask, watching his brown eyes sweep over me.

Instead of answering, he uncrosses his arms, stepping aside to allow me ahead of him. Normally, the silence between us is never heavy. I never feel the need to fill the space with words, but as we step outside and the setting sun warms my skin and the breeze tugs at my hair, I can’t stop myself from asking the question:

“When are you leaving?”

It’s only been a matter of time, and I’ve known that from the moment we first touched. But now the thought of him leaving makes tears brim the corner of my eyes. We stop walking, and he turns to look at me head-on.

I can read the question clearly on his face, and I continue, explaining, “I know that what happened complicates things. But since we got back from Credence, I’ve known.” My voice ends in a whisper, and I shake my head, forcing myself to plow forward. “I know that you’re going to leave. And I shouldn’t ask you to stay. I know that. But I don’t want to say goodbye.”

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