CHAPTER 26
How is he not back yet? I run around the side of the house, nearly tripping on the roses in my hurry to get to the pool house. The lights are on. I burst in the door, breathless, a smile on my face as I prepare to giddily tell him every second, to demand his reaction. Hell, I’d even take notes as long as he put his hands on me while he gave them. But the space is empty. Something else is wrong, too. It takes a second for me to put my finger on it.
No schoolbooks. Not tidy stacks of clothes. No guitar. My stomach plummets. I feel a presence at my back and whirl on my Dad. “Where is he?” “Gone.” Numbness takes hold of my gut, spreading to my limbs. “Where?” “He didn’t say.” “And you didn’t ask? Whatever ‘I’m a musician, I’ll do what I want’ breakfast cereal you all eat isn’t charming. It isn’t normal.” The burning behind my eyes doesn’t turn to tears. It lingers like coals that refuse to cool. I run across the pool deck and into the house. Haley calls out to me, but I pass her without a word and pull out my phone to check for missed calls or messages. Nothing. Three nights ago, he slept in my bed. The next day, we flirted at the dinner table. I fucking bought candles. It’s not true. It’s not. It’s— I stalk into my room and pull up at the sight of the object lying on my duvet. The guitar I bought Timothy. Twenty-four frets, inlaid rosewood. I stare at it numbly as if it’s going to speak, but maybe it already did. “Emily...” Haley’s voice comes from the doorway. I can barely make her out through my blurry vision. “Go away.” “We should—“ “Go. Away!” I shut the door and grab the guitar, sliding my back down the side of the bed until my ass hits the floor. I wrap a hand around the neck and squeeze. The strings bite into my skin. “Forgive me.” “Someday.” “When?” “When you never leave me.” I shut my eyes so hard my teeth hurt. After three years of ups and downs, of inside jokes and bitter standoffs and dreaming of things I never thought would happen, everything‘s starting falling into place. My life is making beautiful, twisted sense for the first time. “I like you. A lot.” “I like you a lot too, Six.” The last few days with him scroll through my mind, a movie of promises and confessions and trust and openness. Of wanting and finally having. After so long, I have him. Timothy is coming back. Timothy Adams is mine. My friend, my prince, my heart. He has to come back. I love him. I think he might love me too… … He’s not coming back.
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