“I made my choice,” he says, looking at me.
He chose me, and I want to scream. There’s no way I can let him throw away his dream for me. That isn’t right. This is when the truth solidifies in my mind: he’d never do anything to hurt me. The version of him I know in the future is not the same boy in front of me. Myles, the boy who would give up on his dream of playing baseball for me, is not going to hurt Mallory. It’s a truth I feel all the way down to my bones.
“What time is the game?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Tell me.”
“It's at four thirty.”
That’s around the same time he pushed Mallory off the bridge. There’s no way he can be in two places at once. Having him play baseball is just as good of an alibi as having him here.
“Come on.” I hold my hand out to him. “We can still make it.”
25
MYLES
There’s a nervous lump in the back of my throat as we start the drive back. I’m afraid because part of me feels like this is too good to be true. Emma’s hand is in mine, and we’re on our way to the baseball game I’ve been dying to play. Is this the way things are supposed to be? Could I really have everything I want?
The sun is bright and Emma rolls down her window, letting her hair whip back. She closes her eyes and there’s an easiness about her I haven’t seen in ages.
She isn’t quiet because she has to be. She’s quiet because she’s content, and that makes me feel confident in our decision to head back. If she had been worried—even in the slightest—I would’ve driven us the other direction. I would’ve driven to the other coast if I had to because I don’t want to ruin the progress we’ve made. I don’t want to let go of her hand, and I refuse to go back to being strangers. It would physically kill me after today because I know we still have something special. Even after years we fell into sync so easily, it’s like we were never apart.
I steal glances at Emma as I drive.
I’d taught myself not to look at her after, but everything is different now. I give myself permission to notice her dark lashes again. How they seem endless, kissing the top of her cheeks.
Her lips curve into a soft smile, and my stomach twists into a million knots.
Emma Adler isn’t just pretty. She’s beautiful. But it’s not simply the way she looks. It’s the meaning behind it.
Her being happy is beautiful.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
She smiles. “Who says I’m thinking?”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t assume you know how to think.”
Her jaw drops. “Myles.” She lets go of my hand and swats my leg. “Shut up.”
“Hey, violence is not the answer,” I tease. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to see her laugh again even though I know I’m heading into dangerous territory. Even though I know I shouldn’t, I can feel my heart opening wide for her already.
“Well, remind me to pack duct tape for your mouth next time.”
I smile. “So there’s a next time already?”
“I mean—I was just joking—but I don’t really know—”
“And now you’re overthinking,” I say. But the truth is I’m overthinking our situation too. What happens if Emma disappears? She doesn’t belong here, and if I’m being honest, I want to forget that. “Let’s focus on today.”
My arm rests on the center console and I open my hand, gesturing for her to put her hand back in mine.
“Good idea.” She sets her hand in mine like it’s meant to be there. “We can figure this whole mess out later.”
“Yeah,” I say, even though I wish we could figure it out now. I don’t like the uncertainty around it, but I know I don’t have a choice.
