Page 106 of F*ckboys

The walls I’ve constructed, brick by brick, begin to crumble. I swallow hard against the lump forming in my throat as I remember back to the angsty days of high school when Aksel was starting to feel the brunt of familial, academic and athletic pressure. “He tried so damn hard to push me away. But I saw the good in him, even when he couldn’t see it himself.”

“And now?” Wren prompts gently.

The rawness rises, impossible to contain. “I don’t know where we stand. I love him with everything in me, but I’m afraid...” My voice trails off as a single tear escapes, betraying my vulnerability.

Wren reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Love is risky. But if you love him, and he loves you—really loves you—then it’s worth fighting for. From what Bronson's told me, it sounds like Aksel's got it for you pretty bad…” Her smile is soft, sisterly. “Take it from someone who’s been there. Follow your heart, Fallon. You won’t regret it.”

Her words resonate, echoing what I already know deep down. I blink away the remainder of my tears, gratitude swelling within.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime.” Wren gives my hand another quick squeeze before pulling away. “That’s what friends are for.”

Friends. The word settles over me with a comforting warmth rivaling that of the coffee. I’ve found more than an ally here. I’ve found yet another sister I never had. It makes me wonder how much more of a community I could already have established around me if I hadn't been so dead-set against letting anyone in.

Our conversation lapses into silence. But it's not an awkward quiet—it's the type of comfortable companionship that exists between two people who don't need words to understand one another.

Wren checks her watch with a startled laugh. "Wow, we've been here for hours. I should let you get going—I'm sure you have other things to do today other than listen to me prattle on."

I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "Nothing that can't wait. I'm enjoying this."

"Me too." Wren's eyes glimmer with humor. "But as much as I'd love to stay, I should head home. Bronson's making dinner tonight, and I don't want to be late." She pauses, glancing out the window at the deepening dusk. "He cooks once in a blue moon, so when he does I like to encourage it!" She grins. "Do you have plans with Aksel this evening?"

At the mention of his name, my chest clenches. I shake my head again, slower this time. "We haven't talked since..." I trail off, the ache intensifying. I should call him. I know I should. But fear roots me in place, and the risk of more rejection looms. I still feel guilty about missing our coffee date. I could picture him sitting there, anxiously looking at his watch, waiting forme. But having Harvey Maxwell captive in my basement has me preoccupied.

Wren studies me, her gaze both knowing and gentle. "You can't avoid him forever, Fallon. And you know as well as I do that you'll regret it if you do."

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. She's right, of course. But that doesn't make facing him any easier.

"Start with a call, maybe," Wren suggests. "Keep it light. Rebuild that connection, and the rest will follow. You just have to take the first step."

Her advice is a lifeline, pulling me from the churning sea of indecision. I cling to it, mustering a shaky smile. "Thank you, Wren. Again."

"You're welcome." Wren stands, shrugging into her jacket. "Call me in the next couple of days and let me know how it goes. But I have a feeling everything will work out exactly as it's meant to."

Hope flickers, lighting the shadows. I stand as well, wrapping Wren in a fierce hug. "I'm glad I met with you today. It's just what I needed."

"Me too." She hugs me back just as tightly. "Now go get your man."

We part with smiles and waves, the aroma of coffee and newfound courage trailing me out the door. Tonight, I'll call Aksel. And this time, I'll follow my heart.

The night air is crisp, scented with possibility. I walk with purpose, renewed determination fueling my strides.

By the time I reach my building, a plan has taken shape. I'll call Aksel once I'm inside, keeping the conversation light and casual.

We'll make plans to meet, and when I see him again, I'll lay my heart bare. No more hiding, no more running. It's time to stopletting fear dictate my choices. And it's important to me that we have the deeper discussion in person rather than over the phone. It seems more transparent, more real and raw that way.

Heart pounding, I unlock my front door and step inside. My phone weighs heavily in my pocket, but I don't hesitate. Not this time.

I find Aksel's name in my contacts and press Call before doubt can creep in. The phone rings once, then twice, and panic flares. What if he doesn't answer? What if—

"Fallon?" Aksel's voice is gravelly with sleep, and warmth floods me. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just..." I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves. You can do this. "I realized we haven't talked in a while. I thought maybe we could get coffee tomorrow? If you're free, that is. I promise I won’t stand you up this time."

There's a beat of silence. Then, "I'd like that. A lot. As long as you promise not to stand me up again?"

Relief and joy mingle, loosening the knot in my stomach. "Great. How about noon at Flicking the Bean?"

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