Just five words, but it was the last one that wrecked me. It was thatpleasethat made me stay. That made me love her even more.
She asked me to trust her. To trust that she would find her way back to me.
To wait for her.Funny!
I would have waited for her anyway.
51
Hazel
“SHUT UP,” Mady yelled out. I nodded. “He loves you! He loves you? He LOVES you?!” she repeated the same sentence, her voice rising with each word.
“That’s what he said.” I drew in a big breath. Mady was caught between shock and disbelief, but her mouth hadn’t gotten the memo, because she was grinning.
This morning, when I showed up at the coffee shop and told Thomas I’d pay for all damages caused by Jackson, he just called me ridiculous and sent me home. When I objected, he swore he would call the cops on me.
I picked up Mady from the airport, and we went straight to her house, where I told her everything that had happened the previous night. She listened wide-eyed, stunned in a way I’d rarely seen from her.
I had to admit, I chickened out. There was nothing more Luke could’ve said to make his intentions clearer. To make his love louder. Maybe if I just had a moment to breathe, to think, I could sort through the tangle of emotions inside me.
I closed my eyes, as if retreating into myself, as his words drifted through me, tangling with fragments of last night.
I love you. I’m sorry to tell you this now, but it’s the truth.
I felt his hands on me, his breath on my neck.
You deserve to be chosen, every single fucking day.
Luke’s head bowing between my thighs, his fingers digging into the soft curves of my hips.
I choose you, Hazel.
I felt him everywhere. His warm touch was imprinted on my skin like freshly made ink, forever changing me. Making him part of my life.
I rested my forehead against my bent knees, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavily on me. A deep, weary sigh escaped my lips.
“Hazel, why are you still here? Why aren’t you with him?” Mady brought me out of my daydream.
“Because...”
“Because what?” I didn’t know. I couldn’t explain it. “Do you think he lied?”
“No, I... for a brief moment maybe, but the things he said yesterday, Mady...”
She sat next to me on the ridiculously large couch she bought John last Christmas.
“So, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice softer than usual. She reached over and squeezed my hand.
I stared straight ahead, unable to meet her eyes, a lump rising in my throat
“What if... what if he only thinks that now? What if he changes his mind?” Saying the words out loud hurt even more than when they merely threaded through my thoughts, coiling like ivy around the walls of my mind. “What if he gets bored with me? What if I’m not good enough for him?”
I knew how that sounded. I wasn’t some pathetic, sad little girl. I knew I was a good person. But handing over the pieces of myself to someone else felt heavy, knowing that in the past, offering those pieces had only ever been a burden.
It didn’t matter how sincere he’d looked, how sure his voice had sounded. Doubt had a way of creeping in, whispering ugly possibilities in the quiet moments. He knew that better than anyone.
“Ahh, Hazel,” she exhaled. “You’re really good at giving love, you’re just not very good at receiving it, honey.” She brought me into a hug.
