How could say that knowing Wren is to love her?
I love that she talks about books, and I can’t help but listen to her voice that sounds like honey. The way her smile lifts up as she talks about fictional people. The way she catches me staring and tries to tamp down her smile, but she can’t resist bursting into a huge grin.That- along with her determination and her stubbornness - is why i’m in love with her. Why I can't wake up without thinking about her and why I’m constantly trying to find a new way to make her happy.
It would be unfair to say I want to keep her tucked away as my little secret because that would take away other people’s ability to know her and love her the way I do.
She keeps her eyes on me for a long time, working over the creases in my face before I drop my gaze from hers.
I can't look at her. Because when I do, I feel like my heart is going to rip right out of my chest.
I keep my eyes on the table when I hear her chair scrape against the floor. I keep my head down when she stands next to the table for a second before walking out of the café.
CHAPTER 43
WREN
Trying to avoid Miles is like trying avoid a test that you know you have to take because no matter how many times I’ve tried to stop running into him at the rink, he manages to be there every time. It’s not as awkward as it was the day after we broke up but it still stings. It hurts the most when I can hear him and his teammates around the corner and he’s laughing and when he sees me he just blinks, not saying anything. I don’t either. We’re always caught in a moment where we’re both too afraid to say something. As if it will burst this uncomfortable bubble that we’ve created around each other.
The last time I saw him still feels like a blur.
I forced Kennedy and Scarlett to watch me practice my routine, needing the last minute tips before the finals. They were both by the boards, watching me intently like I had asked and then Kennedy says what she’s thinking, like always.
“Do you miss him?” she shouted into the silence.
“Do you have to ask me that right now?” I said back, trying to control my breathing as I turn and glided down the ice.
“It’s just a question,” she sing-songed, trying to play coy.
“Yes, I miss him,” I admitted, the second the words leave my mouth my stomach turns. “Is that what you want me to say? That I actually miss him so much that it physically hurts that he’s not around anymore. That it hurts that he’s not waking me up with kisses and his terrible singing. Is that what you want me to say, Ken? Because it fuckinghurtsto even say it out loud.”
They both stood there, watching me, waiting for something. Anything. And because my life couldn’t get any worse, the sound of the hockey team roared in my ear as they go towards their rink. I turned to look towards the entrance of the rink, waiting for him to walk past, to look back, to have heard what I said and somehow make it better. Is that even what I want?
Still, it stung like a bitch when he walked past, did a double-take and continued walking.
Now, it's been a month since then. If I had known that that would be the last time I saw him, would things be different? I don't let myself overthink it. This is good. This is good for us.
It’s been a month of trying to avoid him at school and my friends trying not to mention him since we saw him at the rink.
Part of me wishes that he at least tried to text me. To fight for this in some way but I know he knows that I need space. That's the only way I'll be able to heal. Because this is it, right? We're done.
Unfortunately, Scarlett and Kennedy have really fallen in love with all of Miles’ friends. We spent most of our time over there before the breakup and they even became some of my closest friends too. Now, the girls are trying to stay loyal to me by not hanging out with them even though I told them it’s fine. It’s also been a month of hard work, focusing on myself, and doing things that I want to do.
It’s been a month of skating competitions and spending my afternoons busting my ass off at the practice rink on campus. I’ve had to travel alone to the competitions because they’re always at the most inconvenient times for Scarlett and Kennedy to tag along. The first few comps were hell, but I had the girls via FaceTime and Coach Darcy by my side.
Darcy wasn’t impressed about my latest scandal but she’s holding onto hope that people will move on by the time the finals come around. I doubt that’s going to happen.I’ve got used to the sour looks I’m given on my way around campus and the nasty comment every now and then. There’s something about people at NU and their need to hold grudges.
I thought that ending things with Miles was the best idea. We were both too attached, and it felt like we were constantly being consumed by each other. It makes sense to break up. I need to focus on skating and my classes, and he needs to do the same. I spent so much time depending on him for happiness. So much time being addicted to his touch, his smell, his voice. I knew that once we slept together it would be another thing tying us together and it would make it harder to turn back. It turns out that not seeing him has made a small hole in my heart that only he could fill with his terrible jokes and even worse singing. I can't say I don’t miss him because I do. So much. But this is going to be good for us. It has to be.
Not having to worry about Miles has given me some more free time. I’m still busy with training and competing but when I’m not doing that, I can have time on focus on my writing. As soon as he came into my life, I scrapped one of my dreams to focus on getting back on track. I’ve managed to write another thirty thousand words of Stolen Kingdom over the last month. Now, I spend lunches in between classes with Kennedy and Scarlett at Florentino’s, reading over the latest chapter. I don’t know how Kennedy is not sick of being here all the time when she still works here most days. We use half an hour of our one-hour window talking over major plot lines and the other half trying to study.
“You can’t end it like that!” Kennedy shouts almost knocking over her coffee. A few people turn their heads and flash us a dirty look. I don’t know how we haven’t got kicked out yet from the constant destruction we – mainly Kennedy – cause.
“I’m not ending it like that, it’s just a draft of the ending,” I say, taking a small bite of my scone. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“The only logical ending is that Carmen runs away and starts a new empire,” Scarlett suggests with a shrug.
“Yes, that sounds better than herdying,” Kennedy groans dramatically. “Wait, you’re making a sequel, right? Please tell me you’re making a sequel.”
“I’m thinking about it. I need to focus on real work for class instead of this. It’s not like I’m going to get it published,” I admit.
