Page 98 of I Wish I Would've Warned You

“Why didn’t you say this before?”

“Because deep down, you’ve always wanted to fit in.”

“That’s not true.”

“Of course it is,” she says gently. “You didn’t like moving all the time, but you didn’t fight it either—because you never had real friends to leave behind. And now that you finally have something, you’re scared of losing it because of what people think.”

“That has nothing to do with?—”

“It haseverythingto do with it.” Her voice cuts through mine. “You ended things with Cole because you were scared. Even after the truth came out and people moved on, you still let fear win. But him?” She smiles sadly. “Cole didn’t give two fucks, and you know it.”

She’s right.

And what hurts more is that she forgave me.

After everything fell apart, I sat on her floor and told her everything. I apologized for not being honest sooner—told her I’d kept my feelings for Cole hidden because I didn’t want to hurt her. I begged her to forgive me.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take much.

Maybe it had something to do with the new love in her life.

Or maybe Taylor just knew better than anyone how rare something real really is.

Her phone chimes with a loud alarm, breaking the tension. “Okay! Back tometime.” She grins. “Help me find my reception dress, please.”

Later that night…

Taylor

Promise you won’t hate me if I tell you something.

I will. Don’t tell me.

Eh. I’ll risk it.

Cole’s going to be on Artist Spotlight tonight at 11 p.m. You’re welcome.

I don’t bother replying.

Instead, I set down my notebook and pour myself a glass of wine, heart already stammering. I have a full hour before it airs, but I refuse to miss a single second.

When the show begins, he steps onto the stage in ash-blue jeans and a white V-neck shirt. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little sharper. The crowd roars. The camera pans across rows of women in the front—some smiling, others screaming his name.

The host leans forward. “For those at home who may not know your work, where would you suggest they start?”

“The Lost Moments Collection,”he says.“It’s being released at midnight, so you should definitely start there.”

The screen fades into a gallery space.

The words“The Lost Moments Collection”appear, followed by a slideshow of his work.

It’sus.

Him and me in a pool. In a garden. Chasing each other through a gallery in slow motion.

Moments we never got to live.

Dreams we painted in stolen hours.

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