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EASTONHADBEENWRONG.He bet that Carter would’ve shown up at the apartment before we even got there. That he would have flown down and been waiting for us. He hadn’t. When we arrived and finally turned on our phones, I had three missed calls from him, but that was it. My father mentioned (in his very angry phone call) that he spoke to Carter yesterday morning. That Carter was upset, but I didn’t ask for specifics on what he meant by that. He didn’t offer them. Maybe I’d finally pushed Carter to the point where he’d given up. It was the last thing I wanted, but somehow I couldn't pick up the phone and return his call.
I knew he wasn’t the type of person to cut me off completely. If he was choosing to end things, he’d tell me. And I couldn’t bear the thought that the reason he was calling could be to do exactly that. I’d hang onto him as long as I possibly could, even if that meant ignoring him. There was no logic to any of my decisions. No method to this madness.
I sat on the couch in the tiny living room of my tiny apartment, staring blankly at the tv as Maddie flipped through Netflix. Easton was out getting food. We’d arrived very late last night, or yet, very early this morning. Luckily the apartment was already furnished. We had all stumbled up the stairs, Maddie and I falling asleep in one of the bedrooms and Easton only making it as far as the couch. We spent most of the morning bringing up my few boxes and decorating my bedroom. I was also fortunate in that Macie had been living on her own for a while, and she had everything we’d need as far as stocking the kitchen went. Except, she wouldn’t be driving down for another week, so I’d be living off of take-out until then. She’d been very upset when I spoke to her this morning too. Upset that I left Carter. Upset that she couldn’t get down here sooner. I told her not to rush. She was already upending her entire life to come live with me, to start over in a new city with practically zero planning. Something I’d never be capable of doing. I wouldn’t have her rushing more than she already was becauseIwas being unstable.
Once the six boxes I had brought were unpacked and my room was organized, there wasn’t much else for us to do. My siblings would be flying out the day after tomorrow, and I knew by then I’d have to call him. I wouldn’t be able to sit here by myself for another six days, waiting for Macie, without knowing where Carter and I stood.
Maddie shuffled on the couch, pulling one leg beneath the other and turning to look at me. “You should just call him back. Give him a chance to explain.”
I opened my mouth to argue thathewasn’t the person to be doing the explaining, I was. That I needed to be the one profusely apologizing. That I was terrified that he wouldn’t even give me the chance. That he’d end things the second I picked up the phone. That I couldn’t even begin to rationalize, or recognize, or entertain the thought of losing him. That it made me numb.
Before I could begin speaking, a knock sounded at the front door. Maddie and I looked at each other. I was sure the house key was on my keychain, and Easton had my car. He shouldn’t have been knocking. Maybe his hands were full. I sighed as I stood up and made my way to the door.
Pulling it open, all of that numbness came pouring out of me, pooling on the floor beneath my feet. I began to tremble.
The first thing I noticed were the dark circles under his eyes. They made the hazel of them appear dull, lifeless. The gold highlights that made him look like sunshine had all been smothered out. His curls fell limply in his face, his skin covered in a sheen of moisture. His chest was heaving like he was out of breath. His arm leaned against the doorway as if he needed it for support because he couldn’t stand up entirely on his own. His clothes were wrinkled like he’d been wearing them for days. He looked like shit. As bad as someone as beautiful as him could look.
But he was here.
He’s here.
“You ran. You fucking ran.”
A small, broken, helpless sob cracked from my throat as the whipping wind inside my mind began to whirl. My hand flew to my mouth, trying to keep away the sounds, but failing. I fell into the door for support too.
“You told me to leave.”
“Not across state lines, Penelope,” he scoffed. “I tried to come to you. I climbed up on your window. I was calling. I thought you were ignoring me.”
My shoulders were shaking with my weeping. I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks and pooling in my hand. I covered my face, unable to look at him. In the brief second I studied his face, I couldn’t make out an expression of anything except maybe exhaustion. I wouldn’t dare continue to look at him long enough to see his disdain for me. His disappointment.
I felt a pressure on my elbow as I was moved back a step, and I heard shuffling and the door shutting. “I went straight over to your house yesterday morning– the moment I woke up. Your dad told me you were already gone. That you’d slept in Maddie’s room the night before, that your phone was off.” I felt the warmth of his fingers as they gripped my arm, I felt his breath against my forehead, his heartbeat against my chest. I let myself feel those things because I knew it was possible that I may never feel them again after this conversation. I should have savored them more. I should’ve savored ever moment I had with him more.
A door shut toward the back of the apartment. It must’ve been my sister.
He pulled my hands away from my face. I let my eyes fall open, the only thing I could see were his. They were searching mine for something. My face fell between his hands. “Pep,” he whispered. “You shut me out. You ran away.”
All of my insides began to pretzel at the sound of that nickname on his lips. At the desperation in his tone. The sadness. The hurt. The pain. All of it was caused by me.
My knees began to buckle and I felt myself crumpling toward the floor. He leaned back against the front door and slid down with me, holding onto my arms. I fell between his knees, my body fell into his chest. His arms came around my back, my face in his neck.
“I’m sorry,” I cried. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He shushed me, drawing circles around my back. Planting kisses into my hair. His breathing was sharp and heavy. I could feel the hard swallows of his throat and I wondered if he was fighting back tears too. “You’re here,” I sniffled.
He breathed humorously, pushing my hair away from my face and bringing his lips against my ear, “Penelope, I told you I wasn’t letting you go again. I told you I go where you go. I told you that I’d always be here.”
I shook my head against his shoulder. “You said those things before you knew the truth.”
He craned his neck away, bracing my arms and pulling me upward. “Look at me, Pep.” I lifted my face out of his neck and rolled it across his shoulder, bringing my face up to his. “That doesn’t change a goddamn thing. I’m so sorry for how I reacted.” He wasn’t crying, but I could see tears brimming behind his eyes. “Please understand, Pep. I didn’t…After I got up from that table, I didn’t hear anything. I knew words were being said, but my ears were ringing and I was… I was drowning.” I understood him then. “I didn’t realize the truth until later that night, after I talked to my dad.” His voice broke as the tears spilt over. “God, Penelope. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” It was his face now falling into my neck. His body is wracking with painful sobs. “I’m sorry it happened.” I knew he wasn’t referring to our fight anymore. “I’m sorry you were alone. I’m sorry I made you believe you did something wrong.”
I shook my head. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.” We’d talk about it eventually. He deserved to hear the whole story, not second hand from his father, but from me. But right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was here. “I never should have lied to you, Carter.” He pulled back, and I sat up on my knees. His grip around my waist tightened. My neck was wet with a mixture of our tears. He brushed his lips against it, kissing along my jaw. “I was afraid I wasn’t good enough for you. I’m still afraid I’m not good enough for you. That I don’t deserve you.” I sighed. “I was afraid if I told you everything—every ugly thing about me—you’d finally see that I wasn’t good enough.”
He looked up at me, those golden threads of light beginning to shine in his eyes. “Nothing about you could ever be ugly, Penelope.Nothing.” His thumb dragged across my cheek, taking my tears—my heartbreak—with it. “I accept every single piece of you. All of your past, all of your future. Every tear, every scar, every wound. There is nothing you should bear alone. Never again. Everything that is yours is also mine.Youare mine.”
My chest cracked open. It filled, and overflowed, and filled again with that golden light. The light that was shining in the color of his eyes. That golden thread that tied me back to earth. “You’re here,” I whispered. Still unsure if I could believe it. “You’re here.” I shook my head against his lips. “I didn’t think you’d forgive me.”
“I’m here. I’m always here.” He pressed his lips to mine and then pulled my head into his chest. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed there like that before he shrugged up the wall and grabbed my hands, pulling me up with him. “Can we go for a drive?”
“Easton has my car.”
