Page 95 of The Fate Of Us

My heart becomes a drum, beating nowhere near in time to the music that I’m supposedto run on. I turn the music up in my car even louder to distract me from it, which is pointless, because I’m pulling into the driveway of my old house and switching off the engine.

I’ll say hello to my parents once I’m done. I told my mom that I was coming down to seeher and Dad anyway, one last dinner with them before I head to camp to be a counsellor for the summer. It’ll suck, I know that, but it beats sitting in my dorm and not doing anything. So bear traps and strangers for the next few weeks it was.

I get out of the car and walk over to the front of Addy’s house. I doubt she’ll be hereanyway, so I don’t know why I’m scared that she’s the one who’ll open the door. She made it clear that the second I left that she would too.

But then I remembered that there was a chance she would be here today, around, nearby. Maybe.

I’m hoping, however harsh the thought is, that ignoring her texts, and her calls, made herrealise that I wanted to forget she ever existed. And if that were the case, if she’d gotten the message, she wouldn’t be here today.

And luckily, after walking up the steps, taking a deep breath, and knocking on the door toher childhood home, I see the faint glow of blonde pigtails and a pink dress bounding over to the door.

“Nateeeeyyy!”Goldie squeals as she skips from the doorway and wraps her arms aroundmy legs.“I’ve missed you, where did you go?”She asks, looking up at me with the eyes she got from Addy. She may as well have reached into my raging heart and torn it into ribbons.

“I’ve missedyou, little one. How’re you doing?”I ask her, which wasn’t on the plan, butI can delay the inevitable a few minutes while I catch up with the girl who was practically my little sister, too.

“Okay…”she drawls, unwrapping her arms and stepping back into the doorway.“Idon’t like being the only kid here. It’s weird not having Addy to annoy anymore,”So she’s not here then.“But I did get her room, so that’s fun. But I think we’re moving soon, so I don’t know if that room will be bigger. I think it will be. It’s by the coast, that’s what my mom told me.”

I smile down at her.“You’ll get good sunsets by the coast. You still like them, right?”shehad a thing about watching sunsets, Goldie, and I think it was because Addy told her that’s where her parents got her name from. The golden hour that holds you captive and reminds you that even bad days can end beautifully.

Her eyes widen.“I do, I still love them. I watch them, always.”She looks down at herfeet, covered in shiny ballet flats that match her dress.“But, they’re not as nice when Addy isn’t watching them with me.”She looks back at me.“Have you seen her?”

I shake my head, thankful that the person I’m shaking it at can’t tell that my smile isn’treal.“Not much, I’ve been at college,”her tiny brows furrowed.“Big school.”she nods, pigtails bobbing.“And she’s been doing grown-up stuff, seeing the world. But I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

And then it hits me…“Goldie, where’s your mom and dad?”

She tosses her head over her shoulder.“In the yard. Do you want me to get them?”

“No!”I rush out, before softening my face.“No, I um… I just came by to grab somethingfrom Addy’s room—”

“My room,”she corrects me. Sassy, just like her sister.

“Yourroom, sorry. Well, in that case, will you show me where herstuff is?”

She nods, the tiniest dimples shining back at me as she smiles. She looked back over hershoulder to make sure her parents weren’t hovering before taking my hand and dragging me through the doorway and up the stairs.

When we reach a closet, she drops my hand, reaching it up and opening it. The creakfrom the white door has me cringing, hoping that her parents were too deep in the yard to hear anything. As my head travels back to face the door, I spot the boxes piled up inside of the space, battered and bruised cardboard boxes… each one labelled ‘Adaline’s Things,”

At least they boxed them up,I said internally.

“What is it you’re looking for?”Goldie asks, peering around me as I hover over theboxes, wondering where on earth a tiny Polaroid would be kept amongst her things.

“Oh, just something for her birthday,”I say, opening up the box on the top of the pile,revealing books, upon books, and shockingly, even more books.

“But her birthday was last month,”

I turn back to look at her.“I missed it, big school things got in the way. It’s a late birthdaypresent.”She smiles at me, big, fiery eyes softening.

We stay quiet as I start on the second box, which seems to be her room decor. Pictureframes and notebooks, no doubt containing stories she wrote. I lift up a pile of heavy notepads and lock eyes with a hefty pile of paper, bound together with string. My lungs forget their job once my eyes focus on what’s inked on the top page.

‘Book Eight. By Adaline Moore.’

The last time I saw her she’d only written seven. Seven she was proud of. She was nearly done with number eight, claiming that she knew it would be her favourite. Shemust have just finished this after I left.

And I know I shouldn’t, the thought shouldn’t have even trekked across my mind, but Iwas in her house for fucks sake, it wasn’t as though I was running on rationality today. So I take it. I have every other book she’s written, it seems silly not to have the complete set. If I had time, I’d make copies as I did with the rest, and return the original to its wasted place in this closet.

And I’m glad I do, because as I lift the heavy pile of papers, dust mingling with mybreaths… I see it. Clear as day. Faded, slightly, but still visible.

Her. Asher. His mouth on hers. Her hands on his face…

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