Page 132 of Allegiant

She’s probably right. She and Samson both. I do need help, to heal, to forgive, to move on. Sadly, therapy isn’t in the cards for me. I wouldn’t be able to afford it even with a job, but with the studio closing…

My stomach clenches as nausea rolls through me. What the fuck am I going to do?

Adi hums. “He would have wanted that for you. For me. For us. To be happy, to move on.”

“I can’t move on.” Moving on means forgetting Adam. I can’t ever do that.

“I know. That was a bad choice of words, but I mean…move forward. You should look into it. To start healing.”

I understand that, the need to feel whole again. She’s not wrong. I do need someone to help me work through these complicated feelings. I thought I could get through it all with varying distractions, but that hasn’t worked out well. It’s just pushed me to the verge of burnout.

To broken dreams and broken hearts.

She reaches out to take my hand. “Promise me you’ll consider it. Promise Adam.”

I stare at the ducks floating peacefully on the small pond. It seems so easy for them. I don’t think I’ll ever be truly happy, but maybe I can aim for peace. “I promise.”

“Thank you. For…for not turning me in that night. For forgiving me for believing you could do that to Adam.”

“Always, Adi. Always.”

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a baggie with two slices of bread, and she hands me one. “In memory of him?”

I smile, the first real one in days. “Yes.”

I glance around, looking for anyone watching us, then realize we’re alone. I feel suddenly defiant as I tear a piece off and toss it into the water. It bobs on the surface and then disappears just as a duck waddles over and dives in after it.

Adi lets out a soft laugh and does the same, the two of us breaking off pieces of bread and dropping them into the water until there’s nothing left. The ducks quack at us loudly as we hold out our hands, empty of the bread we gave them. It’s then I realize that the sun has set completely, leaving Adi and me standing there in this slowly emptying park with tears streaming down our cheeks.

I don’t feel whole. I don’t know if I ever will again. But I feel like I’m starting to come around. Starting to find the light at the end of this never-ending tunnel.

Adi is right. Adam would want me to move forward, to be happy. I can do that, I think. I can.

We say our goodbyes, and I watch as Adi gives me a small wave and disappears toward the parking lot. I linger for just a moment longer, wanting to relish this moment, this odd peace I’m slowly coming to find.

It’s not perfect, but it’s there.

Then I feel it, a presence behind me, someone watching. My head whips around, and I see Samson lingering by a tall tree, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes narrowed as he stares at me.

I hate that he’s here, and hate that I love it.

I whisper a silent plea to Adam before turning and marching toward Samson. The closer I get, the more I yearn, the more I miss.

I miss him.

“What are you doing here? Are you following me?” I ask, my voice broken and soft.

“I am.” It’s a simple acknowledgment, nothing more.

“I don’t want you to do this. I can’t have you everywhere I am. I’m supposed to heal, to move forward. How can I do that when you’re always in my fucking way?” I fling my hands up, and he takes a step back.

“I don’t want to bother you, to make you feel like you can’t move forward or heal. But…” He swallows, his throat clicking softly. “I’ll always protect you.”

“I don’t need it.”

“I’ll decide that.”

“Is this your penance for lying to me?”