I have no intention of going back to who I was completely, but some things aren’t as easy to erase when they’re grounded in the storyline, parts of me that people will expect and try to hold me to, and it’ll be a slower change.
“I want that, you know. But maybe we shouldn’t make any promises to each other until we’re back and settled. This whole thing has been very disorienting,” I say with a yawn.
Seth drops his head, and I fight the pull to comfort him. I’m too drowsy, and I need to sleep more than anything. “Why don’t you shut your eyes for a bit? There should be fresh-baked cookies when you wake up, okay?”
“That sounds fantastic,” I mumble. “Thank you.”
Huh. Maybe I could be good at this whole being alone together thing.
Chapter seventeen
The Holiday
Seth
ThemovieIt’s a Wonderful Lifeis one of my family's “no matter what” holiday traditions.
Even if my mom had to work the late shifts at the steakhouse she worked in, known for its holiday decorations and overcrowded in December.
Even the year my dad left us with a note that just had one word on it, “Sorry,” and never came back.
Even the year of my accident, my mother made sure they put it on my TV in the hospital, and she sat, crocheting a pair of useless, fingerless mittens next to me while it was on.
With romance, humor, and a reminder that even when everything looks bleak, there’s a life worth living, the movie has a little of everything.
So when I heard Maddie had never seen it, it didn’t take long before I found it on a streaming service we had and booted that bad boy up so we could watch it with some warm chocolate chip cookies and hot cocoa.
As the movie fades out to the tune ofAuld Lang Syne,I peek down at her, resting her head on a pillow on my lap, and brush a piece of hair out of her face with my thumb. “Hey? What’s going on in that head of yours? I can feel the cogs whirring from here.” I trace the curve of her jaw, trailing the pad of my thumb down her neck, trying to calm the melancholy radiating off of her.
“It’s nothing. I just—um.” She worries the bottom of her lip with her teeth.
“It’s not supposed to be sad at the end,” I murmur.
“I know. I just—it just got me thinking about how this would translate into my life. You know, the whole ripple effect thing. His existence was so important to so many people. And it got me thinking, who’s life is better because of me? And you know what I got? No one. I don’t think there’s a single person in the real world whose life is better off because of me.”
“Mine is,” I whisper.
“Only recently.”
“It’s still a part of our life, though.” I shrug. “I’m not going to sugarcoat anything and pretend like there aren’t some things that I disagree with in your past, just like I have skeletons and versions of me I’m not proud of. But Maddie, there’s still a lot of life left for us to live, and you can make it whatever you want, regardless of who you’ve been. Identity isn’t a permanent thing, you know? We can change.”
“I’m going to try my best to make things right.”
“I know you will.” I rest my hand on her side. In the past month, I’ve seen a lot of different versions of Madeline Finch, but this is the one that terrifies me more than anything because I’m pretty sure this is the real one, and I’m fucking head over heels in love with her.
I’m working on trusting her, but I still haven’t been honest about my past. Not that she’s asked, but when she’s commented on my tattoos, tracing and swirling a finger around them, I haven’t worked up the courage to tell her those exist in the real world too. Or when she makes a joke about me being athletic, and I want to shout, I’m actually ridiculously athletic in the real world too, and I was one of the top quarterbacks in the nation, sweetheart. I didn’t have the drive to rehab my knee after the people around me shattered my heart.
I want to share everything with her, but something’s holding me back. I don’t know if it’s fear or hesitation over the past versions of who she’s been.
Maddie’s hand tightens around my waist and nuzzles her head into my side. “Thank you for coming over. I really do appreciate it.”
“Of course, Buttercup.” I rake my fingers slowly through her hair, relishing the silky feel of it against my skin.
“But why the hell did you bring Jenny to the skating rink?” she mumbles.
I swallow. The answer to that question is probably why I haven’t shared the details of my past with her. “Because I do foolish things when I’m scared, Maddie.”
“What were you scared of?”
