I begin to stroke his back. I know exactly what he means because I have the same fear. I’m finally starting to feel like I’ve crawled out of whatever hole I was stuck in, and I don’t ever want to slip back into that hole again. It’s a hole that feels like death. I’d do anything to avoid it.
Which is why I have to do what I have to do.
“I know,” I tell him, and before I can resist the urge, I lean my head against his chest. The sound of his heart beating soothes me. It’s going to be okay. “And it’s okay. I mean, I’m not angry. I don’t think I could ever stay angry at you.” I look back at him and brace myself to finally utter the words I’ve been meaning to tell him. “I love you, Logan.”
There’s a stunned look on his face for a moment as his brain registers what I’ve just said. I know he’ll probably want to say something, but I take advantage of his silence to keep going. “And I think I always have. At least, as long as I possibly could. We were so young when we met, and this thing, this love, I think it slowly took root and bloomed over time, but it never left. It only grew with time. Even for all the years we were apart, there wasn’t a single day you didn’t pop up in my mind. I didn’t realize it during that time, the way I thought about you, but that’s what it was. It was love.Islove.
“And I want you to know that, Logan.” My hand cups the side of his face. “I want you to know, before I say what I’m going to say, that I do love you, and I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”
“Avery,” he says, and before I can stop him, his mouth is against mine, sighing with relief. I can’t stop myself from yielding to him, from opening my lips to him. He tastes like the rain, like salt and tears, and I never want to pull away. But too soon, he does. And his forehead presses against mine, like he needs more, like he’s in pain. “I love you too,” he responds, his breath heavy.
Part of me knew—no—all of me knew at this point. Whatever part of me denied he loved me was the same part that doubted I deserved it. But I’d be stupid to say I didn’t know. Still, it doesn’t hurt any less. Because now I have the confirmation that I’m going to break this heart.
“And I think I feel the same,” he continues. “This thing between us, it’s always been there. So much so that …” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “There hasn’t really been anyone else. Not in any serious way, at least.”
“Oh, Logan,” I whisper, feeling a twinge of sorrow for him. How lonely it must have been.
“No one else ever really interested me. They all paled in comparison to you.”
“Logan …” I slowly move away from him without getting too far, either. “I didn’t lie before. I do love you. But …” His eyes shift. He looks scared. “When I first came here, I came to be alone. The way Jasper left, and then my dad … I needed space to think. And I needed it away from everyone else I knew. I also needed to write that stupid website, which I was able to do, in part thanks to you.” I stroke his face with a sad smile. “And I’m so thankful I got to find you again. But through all of this … I didn’t get to do what I truly came here for.”
“Being alone,” Logan finishes for me. Hurt flashes through his eyes, but he doesn’t seem angry or upset.
“I know you apologized and said you were out of line,” I begin, feeling my heart tear into a million little pieces. “But I think you were still right with what you said to me earlier tonight.” And Sophie was right, too. So was my dad. “I push too hard to fix other people’s problems. I’m so uncomfortable with the idea of other people being uncomfortable that I can’t help myself. And I don’t think …” I close my eyes and take a deep breath to steady myself. “I don’t want this to erode the love between us. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” Logan interjects. “I’m not …” He swallows. “I’m not trying to talk you out of whatever you’re trying to say. But I just want you to know, you didn’t hurt me.”
“But I could. Or this could build into resentment. Or something else. I don’t know.” I sigh. “The truth is, I think we both have some shit to figure out. And I don’t want to speak for you. But on my side of things …” I need to say it. It needs to come out. “I think I need some time alone. To get some perspective. I need to heal without relying on someone else to do it for me.” I look into his eyes, which have become glassy. The last thing I want is to make him cry. “And, like I said, I think you need this time, too.”
“What are you saying, exactly?” he asks, his voice deep and heavy.
“I’m saying I desperately want to be a part of your life. But not now.”
There. I’ve said it. In no uncertain terms. I close my eyes and feel everything shattering within me. Because I’ve spoken the truth, I desperately want to stay by Logan’s side. One part of me—no, most of me—is screaming in horror at the idea of letting him go yet again. She’s banging against the door, sobbing, pleading for me to stop this insanity as I set fire to her house. And I can hear her now, coughing against the smoke, screaming inhuman sounds as she burns.
That’s how much it hurts.
But the other part of me knows I can be a better person. I’m already worthy of happiness, and I even think I’m worthy of Logan in a small way. But I don’t want the bare minimum. I want to be the best possible person I can be for him.
Honestly, it feels like the least selfish thing I can do. Because when our paths cross again, I’ll be the version of myself that can truly support him, no matter what he’s going through. I’ll be the Avery who is confident, stable—or at least partially stable—and who is capable of feeling whole and complete, even on her own.
That Avery will be so much better than this current version of me. The version who’s still struggling to balance meeting her own needs and the needs of the ones she loves. The version who doesn’t feel whole without another person by her side. This Avery is broken, and I need to fix her before I try to rely on Logan—or anyone else, for that matter.
But because she’s broken, this hurts all the more. Because she’s screaming at me to tell Logan I’m not going anywhere. That I don’t want to spend a single day away from him, no matter where we decide to go.
A single tear falls from Logan’s eye. I wipe at it with my thumb. Despite being all cried out, a tear escapes from my eye, too. “If you believe this is what you need,” he begins, “I will give it to you. Because I already told you what I want. I want you to have everything you want.”
His words tear through my heart.I want you.But not now. I have to be strong. To stop myself from saying those three words, I lean in to kiss him instead.
He kisses me back with urgency; his arms press against my back to pull me close. His tongue pushes my mouth open, and soon enough I have my own hands all over him, desperately clawing to hold on to whatever I can have. We’re still in our rain-soaked clothes. Without any gentleness or care, I start peeling off his shirt to feel the cool, wet skin underneath. Soon enough, we’re skin-to-skin, and the air is cold against us, but he’s warm, and I’m warm, and we come together in a desperate tandem, letting tears freely flow.
It’s a bittersweet goodbye, and it both hurts and relieves.
We lay in my bed after, warm under the blankets. My head is on his chest, and I hear his heartbeat starting to slow down. His fingers weave through my hair. I never want this moment to end. I never want morning to come.
“For the record,” Logan begins, a slight crack in his voice, “I still feel incredibly lucky, despite everything.”
“How come?”
