“I don’t want you doing things just because I said so,” she cuts in softly. “I want you to do them becauseyouwant to. Because you know it’s right.”
“I know. That’s not what I mean.” I pause, searching for the words. “You just… get me. The way you push me to be better. The way your strength makes me see reason when I can’t see anything else.” I shrug, the weight of everything sitting heavy on my chest. “You make me want to do better.”
“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you,friend.”
She scoots back on the bed, leaning against the wooden frame, her legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed. She looks like she belongs here. In my bed. In my space. In my life.
The wordfriendgrates against every nerve in my body. Ihate how she says it like a warning, like she’s reminding herself of what she’s supposed to feel, not what she actually does. She’s drawing a line between us that we’ve never managed to stay behind, and I can’t even blame her for it. I’m the one who made her think she needed that boundary.
God, I’m so tired of pretending. Of holding back when she’s sitting right there. We can keep lying to ourselves all we want, but the truth’s already carved in my bones. She’s it. She’s my endgame. Always has been, and I hope to hell that somewhere deep down, I’m still hers too.
“What kind of deal?” I ask, forcing my voice to steady when all I want to do is close the space between us, to forget about the letters, the grief, to forget all of it.
“You give Halle these letters, and I’ll be with you when you open yours,” she says.
She reaches for the stack, fingers brushing mine as she separates Halle’s from mine. That small touch sends a spark of warmth through me.
She wants to be there every time I open one. To face the ghosts with me. That thought alone… Damn, it hits me somewhere deep. I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve a girl like Madi, but I’ll thank the stars every single night for her.
“You have yourself a deal.”
Her lips tug into a soft smile, the kind that steals the air right out of my lungs. “Did you want to open one now?” she asks.
“No, but could you…” I glance at the two envelopes already torn open on the bed. The edges curled from how many times I’ve picked them up and put them back down. “Could you read the two I’ve already opened?”
She nods, her brows pinching as she takes the letters from me. I shift up the bed until our shoulders touch, closeenough to feel her warmth against my arm. The paper trembles in her hands, her eyes skimming the page, lips moving faintly with each word. The silence in the room stretches until she reaches the end of the first letter. Her hand covers her mouth. I don’t need to hear the words again; I already know them. I’ve read them again and again.
“I think Ray found her writing that one, and that’s why it stops,” I say when she flips it over, searching for more.
“She loved you, Hunt.” Her eyes lift to mine. “You know that, right?”
My jaw tightens. I can’t answer, so I hand her the next letter instead. She gives me a small smile before her focus shifts back to the letter. I watch her read, and I wait. When a single tear falls down her cheek, my thumb catches it, swiping it away. My heart hammers in my chest. What if she finishes and realizes this is too much? She didn’t sign up for my mess. Maybe she’s right, maybe I should give her more space. To live a life untouched by my chaos. I’m being selfish, needing her to get through these letters when she should be free. I should be the one carrying the world for her, not the other way around.
“Stop.” Her voice cracks through my spiral, and my eyes snap to hers.
“What?”
“Stop thinking. This isn’t too much for me.You’renot too much. This is what friends are for. We’re there for each other. We help, we lean on each other when things get heavy. Let me be here for you, because Iwantto be. Asher would do the same. Connor would too.”
“I don’t think Asher and Connor could do the same thing for me as you do,” I tease, trying to lift the heavy mood in the room.
“Oh my god, you’re impossible,” she blurts, swinging her legs off the bed and standing.
I shoot up too, worried she’s going to make a run for it. She doesn’t. Instead, she walks over to the dresser and carefully sets the letters down into two stacks, separating mine from Halle’s.
When she turns back around, I’m already there. My hands snake through her hair as I pull her into me. Her head fits perfectly against my chest, and her scent fills my lungs as I hold her in a hug I’ve been so desperate for all day.
“Thank you,” I manage, my voice cracking. “For being here. For not giving up on me.”
She tilts her head back to look at me, arms wrapping around my waist. “What are friends for?” Her lips twitch, fighting back a smile.
“I’m really starting to hate that word,” I grumble, dropping my arms and stepping back.
“Are you sure you don’t want to open another letter tonight?”
“Yeah,” I say, exhaling slowly. “One’s enough for me in one day. I think I’d rather go make some pancakes for myfriendbefore we head to work.”
Her lips curve, that familiar spark dancing in her eyes. “Can you even make pancakes?”
