Page 68 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
A long beat. Then she adds, quieter now, as if it’s breaking her to say it, “I know what forever means. You don’t.”
Then she turns.
And this time, I don’t follow.
Because I don’t deserve to.
eighteen
Stevie
One Year Later
It’sbeennearlyayear, and I feel the sting in my chest when I think about Seattle.
How the airport hotel room felt like a coffin.
I cried so hard I could barely breathe. My phone vibrated with calls from Padraig I couldn’t bear to answer. I was too ashamedto tell my parents why we broke up and why we’d never get back together. Too gutted to move from the fetal position.
I can’t make sense of how I kept breathing through all of it—the moment everything tilted sideways and never came back.
The worst part is, Felicity didn't need lies. She used truth. Twisted it. Dragged it into daylight and left it bleeding at my feet.
It’s not her I blame. Not really.
I thought Padraig was mine. Knew it in my soul. Despite our challenges, I believed our kind of love was built to survive anything.
Instead, I found out how easy it was for him to hide things. Let them rot between us.
For years, Felicity was pressing closer. Testing boundaries. And he stayed quiet. Never said, “She’s pushing too far and I don’t know how to stop it.”
Saying it out loud would’ve meant choosing.
So, he didn’t. Not then. Not when it counted.
Every time anyone—me, Liam, Linus—said anything about replacing her, he refused. Didn’t want to start over. Said it’s better the devil you know. Thought she was why the band had any success.
I didn’t let myself see it until he finally grew a pair of balls and fired her.
Once I knew the truth, I had no choice. I had to end it.
So I walked.
Not from love.
From the lie I would've had to live inside to stay.
It’s taken months to feel halfway like myself again.
Cooper was the one who pulled me out of the wreckage. He’d gone through his own breakup and, among my friends in New York, was the only who understood the weight of waking up with an empty ache every day.
We made a pact to look out for each other. To call before any spiral started. Keep ourselves from wallowing.
He also encouraged me to keep the lines open with Padraig.
“You have such a long history and your families will always be tied together,” he said one night over greasy diner fries. “You’ll regret it if you shut him out completely.”
So I didn’t.
