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He needs to know it’s true.
Will shakes his head. “Yes, we run. It’s what we both do. But we’ve only ever run toward each other. Don’t you see that?”
We.Will and I arewe.
In the distance, a crow caws.
“It’s not supposed to be this hard,” I say.
He closes his eyes. Silence vibrates between us. The space between us widens, though we both seem to have become rooted in place.
“Say something,” I say, when the quiet becomes too loud.
He looks up at me through lowered lashes. The heartbreak I expected to see is only there in the corner of his eyes. The rest is a storm. His features have gone hard. “What should I say? Should I say that we both know you can, but you don’t want to because you’re afraid? Should I say that we both know you’re panicking because—yeah, I made a huge mistake, and I’m sorry—but if you forgive me, and you let me in all the way, you might lose me? No matter what promises I make for you here today, no matter how much I mean them, I can’t guarantee you anything. That terrifies you.”
His words hit too close to a truth that’s too ingrained into every fiber of my being.
“I did let you in. I trusted you. You broke this. Not me.” Barbs in the back of my throat make my voice sound thick and scratchy.
“You’re looking for an excuse to walk away.” Will’s gaze cuts into me like diamond against glass. Every part of me shatters. He squeezes his eyes shut, and I think he’s shattering too.
“Don’t do this,” he says. “My whole life I’ve run away from people. You’re the only person I keep running toward. I can’t keep chasing you.”
“Then don’t.” My voice is barely audible. I take a step back; the rush of wind cools the sweat on the back of my neck.
“You’re scared.” He sounds uncertain, which fuels the heat charging through my bones. “That’s all this is. You’re scared and still just going through the motions.”
“No, Will. I’m finally moving forward. I have an apartment and nursing school and—”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he says.
I shake my head. “We both know it never goes the way it’s supposed to go.”
Will walks away. For too long, I stare at the space between the trees where he disappeared. As I turn back toward the cottage, my gaze snags on the planter Will left. The flower bloomed.
A blanchefleur.
40
WILL
Pale moonlight illuminates the way to the ticket stand where my father’s makeshift memorial lives on. Even with the light, when it’s this dark, Adventure Land is more creepy than adventure-y, but I don’t want to leave town without at least one more visit. Besides, I can’t think of another use for the rock Maeve gave me, and it seems pointless to carry it around now that I’ve abandoned the blanchefleur.
Along with Kingsette, my mother. And Hope.
Our last conversation drifts through my mind, and for the hundredth time, I play over what I said and what I should have said. It may have changed nothing, but at least I would have unequivocally run toward something, rather than away.
Too little, too late. Again.
Movement on the ticket stand makes me stop in my tracks.
Something is balanced on top of the pile of rocks. A white flower that I’ve only ever seen once before, and it’s slowly unfurling beneath the moonlight.
Maeve’s midnight blooms.
My heart crashes against my rib cage. “Maeve?”
The moment I hear my trembling voice, I know I’m being paranoid. The park is empty, and even if she were here, Maeve isn’t the evil villain I wanted to believe she was. She was always only trying to help.
