"But more than that," Raven continued, closing the distance between them until she was close enough to see glints of gold in Annabelle's eyes, "I want you to be involved. To help run it. To make sure the money goes where it matters, to the teachers who give a damn, to the kids who need it most. Because you know what matters. You've always known."
For a long moment, Annabelle just stared at her, tears streaming down her face, breathing unsteadily. "I'll think about it," she whispered finally.
Raven's heart plummeted. She'd expected… what? Open arms? Immediate forgiveness? She'd walked out on Annabelle,broken her heart, and a charity fund didn't fix that. Nothing fixed that.
"Right," Raven said, her voice hollow. "Of course. That's… yeah. Think about it. Take all the time you need."
She turned to walk away, blinking hard against the burning in her eyes. She'd tried. She'd come back, she'd made the grand gesture, and it wasn't enough. Maybe she'd broken this too badly to repair. Maybe…
"Wait."
Raven stopped, her back still to Annabelle, hardly daring to breathe.
"Wait."
Chapter Thirty-Five
The word hung in the air between them. Wait.
Annabelle's heart was pounding so hard she was certain everyone in the library could hear it. But she didn't care. For once in her life, she wasn't going to let perfect be the enemy of good. She wasn't going to let fear win.
Raven had frozen mid-step, her back still to Annabelle, shoulders rigid with tension.
"Wait," Annabelle said again, softer this time.
Raven turned slowly, and the look on her face nearly broke Annabelle's heart. It was raw and vulnerable and terrified, everything Raven usually tried so hard to hide behind snark and eye-rolling and electric guitar solos.
"Annabelle…"
"No, let me…" Annabelle took a shaky breath. This was it. Her chance to be honest. To stop pretending everything was fine when it very clearly wasn't. "I need to say this."
The corridor felt impossibly small, just the two of them and the sound of muffled applause from the library beyond.Annabelle could hear Lily's voice announcing refreshments, hear the scrape of chairs, the excited chatter of children.
But all she could see was Raven.
"I'm not okay," Annabelle said, and her voice cracked on the words. "I'm really, really not okay."
Raven's expression shifted, something fierce and protective flashing across her face. She took a step closer. "Belle…"
"No, please, I need to, I need to get this out." Annabelle pressed her palms together, a prayer or a plea or just something to keep her hands from shaking. "You asked me if I was alright, and I said I'd think about the charity, and I let you start to walk away because that's what I do. I smile and I say everything's fine and I let people think I'm this perpetually cheerful person who never needs anything."
"You are perpetually cheerful," Raven said, but her voice was gentle, not teasing.
"Well, I'm not feeling very cheerful right now." Annabelle's eyes were burning. She blinked hard, refusing to cry. Not yet. "Not being with you is worse than not having oxygen, Raven. It's like someone turned off the sun and forgot to mention it. And I know that sounds dramatic and over-the-top and very much like something I'd say, but it's true. It's so bloody true it hurts."
Raven opened her mouth, then closed it again. Annabelle could see her throat work as she swallowed.
"And for once in my life," Annabelle continued, the words tumbling out now, "I'm in a situation I don't know how to fix. I can't bake my way out of this. I can't organize a committee or make a to-do list or smile until everything magically gets better. I can't fix you leaving. I can't fixus. And it's absolutely terrifying because fixing things is what Ido."
She was crying now. Couldn't help it. The tears were hot on her cheeks and her nose was running and she probably looked a complete mess, but she didn't care. Didn't care about beingperfect or put-together or any of the things she usually worried about.
"I just…" Her voice broke. "I just need you to know that I'm hurting. That I miss you. That even if you don't… if you can't…"
"Stop." The word was fierce, and then Raven was right there, right in front of her, close enough that Annabelle could smell her musky perfume and see the emotion in her brown eyes. "Stop, Annabelle. Please."
Raven lifted her hands, hesitated for just a moment, then cupped Annabelle's face, thumbs brushing away tears with a tenderness that made Annabelle's chest ache.
"I'm not perfect," Raven said, and her voice was rough. "I am so spectacularly far from perfect it's not even funny. I'm moody and difficult and I push people away when they get too close. I run when things get hard. I sabotage good things because I'm terrified they won't last."
