Page 36 of The Fate Of Us

I walked into something. No, someone. And by the quick apology and cloud of fireI’m consumed in, it doesn’t take long for me to put two and two together.

“Oh, Nate. Sorry, I uh- I didn’t see you.” Addy says, her brows down turning, her casualsmile fading. She’s already in costume, one of those pastel summer dresses that Anastasia wears, which means she must have gotten here far earlier than me.

I wonder if she’s not been sleeping since that night either?

A quick scan of her shadowy undereyes confirms my suspicions, which only makesthat guilt creep further up my throat.

Her head drops once she realises where I’m looking, her hands fiddling with the scriptshe’s now clasping.

Naturally, silence descends on us. But so does the ease of being around her. Whenshe’s not wearing a dress that makes my heart hurt for the version of us that could exist, she always makes me feel calm. Always has.

A distant part of me secretly wishes that she’ll platonically be in my life forever, if itmeans a lifetime of peace.

Which reminds me.

“No, it’s… it’s fine.” Suddenly caffeine is the last thing on my mind, and every nightI’ve spent overthinking this moment crowds my head. “I wanted to talk to you, actually,” I confess, which has her curls springing upwards, waves ofstrawberry and vanilla that hover around her crashing over me.

“Oh, really?” She asks, drawing my attention to her glossy cupid’s bow, her eyes turning into globes and roaming mine.

My feet shuffle below me, nerves skating through my body. “Yeah, I just wanted to apologise, for my birthday—”

“Nate,” she sighs, her head falling forward like she knew this was coming.

“No, I shouldn’t have treated you like that. It was wrong of me to do, and I’m sorry. Okay?” I say to the top of her head, because she still won’t lift it.

That odd confidence her presence brings forces my next move as I lift my hand underher chin and tilt it to the stage lights above us, connecting our eyes with ease, thanks to her willingness to let me touch her again.

“I’m sorry, Adaline.”

Her eyes drop to my lips, like she’s trying to fathom that an apology just slipped pastthem.

I wonder if she’s deciding whether to forget this nearly decade-long feud and kiss melike I am with her. But the way her eyes fade into a shade that resembles the surface of Mars, and the words that fall out of her next kill that thought before it has a chance to rise to life.

“Stop apologising for the wrong things, Nate. It’s a waste. You can collar me all youwant, torment me for hours… I don’t care. But unless you’re going to apologise for leaving me on the pier that day, then I suggest you move your hand away from me before I move it for you.”

Before I can so much as suck in a breath, one of her hands falls from the script andbegins to trail my exposed forearm. She glides her soft fingertips along my skin, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps as she does. Those shivers quickly fade as she reaches my hand that’s holding her chin, yanking it from her in a way that was eerily close to snapping my wrist.

But she’s still near me, which means that the power I get from her hasn’t left me yet.As she goes to leave, I find her wrist with a gentle force, causing her eyes to shoot to my hand and then back up to my eyes.

And although she says she hates me, she still comes closer, my hand not pulling herwhatsoever.

“It’s funny, you know. I thought you would’ve been bored of playing this part by now,Addy. Seeing as though you always hated acting.”

“Have you ever considered that I’m not acting?” She fires back.

“No.” I tug her closer, a gentle movement that has our faces mere inches from oneanother. Her breath warms my face, and I narrow my eyes. “I can bet my life on the fact that not a single part of this act you've kept up is real."

Surprise rolls through me as she drops her gaze to my lips, tracing every outline for two seconds, then three, before her eyes glide back up to meet mine. Considering howmany people are filtering into the set around us now, I can't help but think that I imagined it, that she wouldn't have put us in a position like that on purpose.

But we’re playing hopeless lovers; we could play it off and say that her pulling me down, our lips a hair away from one another, is just last-minute practice for the scene I’m dreading to film today.

“Well, if it's your life you're betting," she drops her gaze once more, "Then it's been good knowing you.” Ipractically feel the wicked smile that graces her face from how close she is, before she slips her wrist from my hold and saunters away across the set.

An hour rolls by like a minute, and before I know it, I’m in the centre of the set withthe rest of the cast, waiting for Sebastian to give us our instructions for the day. Which is completely pointless, seeing as though we get the filming schedule and scene outline weeks in advance—

“Change of plan today, children.” Sebastian jogs out from the darkness, dodgingseveral cameras. “I spoke to Eleanor and the producers last night, and they want to try and capture the key moments with Harry and Anastasia soon so they can start working on early promos for the press.”

Of course they fucking do.

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