Page 49 of Teach Me to Fly

A few minutes later, we find a quiet patch of grass near the river, tucked slightly away from the walking path. A family with twin toddlers and a golden retriever passes behind us, but otherwise, it’s just the soft sounds of water, the rustling of trees, and the slow, graceful drift of white swans gliding across the Thames.

We sit down, the grass cold through my jeans, so I tuck my knees up to my chest and hold my cone with both hands. Reign stretches his legs out in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other, and begins eating his cup of ice cream.

He finishes the whole thing in record time, and when I glance over at him mid-lick, his eyes are tracking my mouthas I swipe my tongue across the side of the cone to keep it from dripping.

He licks his bottom lip once, slow, then his heated gaze jumps up to meet mine, a thousand words behind the way he looks at me, and I freeze, pulse stuttering. The air feels charged between us and I’m positive even the swans have noticed, so I quickly look away and focus on my cone, finishing it in a few fast bites before the tension makes me explode.

He looks back at the water, his voice quiet when he speaks again. “Why don’t you like being touched?”

I blink, surprised, and I stare at the grass in front of me as my fingers curl into the fabric of my jeans.

“It just… it feels invasive,” I say eventually.

He’s quiet for a while before speaking. “But you let Lando touch you.”

I glance at him. “That’s different.”

He says nothing, but I can see the question in his eyes.

“I’m used to him,” I explain further. “I know him. We’ve been around each other forever. He’s… safe.”

Reign nods once, like he’s storing the information away. Then he turns fully toward me, elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked on mine.

“You used to let me touch you.” The words leave his mouth with ease, and I feel my mouth drop open slightly.

“I…that…” I’m at a loss for words as my face grows warm. “That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before life happened,” I say, dropping his gaze and turning my attention back to the swans. “Before my dad died, before I moved to New York, and before?—”

“Before whatever happened in New York, happened,” hefinishes for me.

I look at him again now, holding his gaze. “Exactly,” I reply.

His eyes drop to my mouth for a moment, and then he looks back up at me before nodding.

“I get you don’t want to tell me, at least not now, but I hope you remember I was one of the safe people in your life.”

“You ghosted me,” I say as I stare out at the river, not wanting him to see any of the emotions warring inside of me. “I called and texted you for over a year, and not once did you pick up or reply.”

He’s quiet now, but I can see from my peripheral that he’s staring at me, so I continue.

“We spent every single day together for an entire summer.” I laugh to myself at how ridiculously pathetic I sound. “We were almost something, and then suddenly we were nothing.”

“Angel…”

“The worst part is that I checked my phone for months. Every single notification that I got, I’d hoped it was from you, but it never was. So, yes, maybe once upon a time I thought you were a safe person, but I realized I was wrong about you when you decided to leave me when I needed you most.”

The swans float nearby, one extending its wings out fully, the move smooth and graceful. It raises its wing high enough that my attention snags on the Marlow Bridge behind it instead.

Would I die if I jumped from that high up? Would it hurt or would I be numb to the pain?

I visualize myself standing at the edge, staring down at the swans from that perspective instead, arms held out as I slowly tip forward and?—

“Let me make it up to you,” he says, cutting into my thoughts.

When I look at him, I can see regret written all over his face. I want to ask him why he did it, why he abandoned me, but maybe now isn’t the right time.

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