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"You're not going to invite me in?" He tries to say it jokingly, as if sensing the awkwardness between us.
I step outside instead and sit on the porch swing instead of letting him in. Maverick steps back and stands against the post with one leg over his ankle and hands hiding in his pockets, watching me.
"It's so good to see you, Scar," he says in a low voice.
"Yeah." I tuck my hands underneath my thighs and swing lightly, looking straight ahead toward the sky's violet spectrum.
"You're not going to look at me?" His tone has a hint of sadness.
"I don't need to look at you to talk." My voice is but a whisper.
"Scar." He sighs, walks over, and sits beside me. I tense when his arm brushes against mine, but he doesn't try to move away.
We sit silently, rocking back and forth, listening to the crickets. We watch the fireflies light up and dance over and around the shrubs. It feels like I traveled back in time to when we would sit on the swing for hours at night without saying a word. His presence was all I needed to get through the night. And now it just feelswrongand empty. I was filling a void that didn't need to be filled.
"A girl or a boy?" I ask, holding back my emotions.
Despite my burning curiosity, I've been too afraid to ask my mom and Gem for updates. I didn't want to face the reality of the situation, so I avoided it altogether. They seemed to be doing the same, as they had never mentioned Maverick's name while I was in the hospital.
He clears his throat. "She miscarried."
I look down at my feet as they sway back and forth. "I'm sorry," I say honestly. My feelings for Skylar haven't changed—I still hate everything she represents, but my heart aches for Maverick. He would've made a great father.
The two of us remain quiet for a brief moment until the sun begins its descent, casting a golden hue across the sky, serving as a reminder for me to take my medications.
"I'm going to go back in." I start to stand when what he says next stops me.
"I'm so sorry, Scar about everything. I want to be here for you."
"I can't do this." I shake my head and rise, ready to bolt back inside the house, but he grabs my arm. His touch still sends a bolt of electricity through me.
"Wait, please don't leave." He glances down at my wrists and gently rubs the red, raised scars that forever remind me of my actions.
I jerk from his grasp, unable to stand the feeling of his warm touch. "I'm tired, Maverick," I say without looking at him.
"So, it's Maverick now?" The hurt in his voice almost makes me want to turn around and throw myself into his arms.
"Wait." My steps falter at the desperation in his tone. "Please don't leave like this."
I glance over my shoulder and see how much pain he's in for losing Seth and our friendship. I have to remember he was ready to start a life with Skylar. My wounds are fresh, and my heart is still at the repair shop. I always yearned for a sister to share my childhood memories with. So, when Dad introduced us to Skylar, I was initially thrilled, but after the first day we met, I found that I didn't want Skylar in my life.
Skylar was the complete opposite of me in every way. She was loud, brash, selfish, and attention-seeking, while I was quiet, reserved, and introverted. Skylar constantly belittled me, leaving me feeling suffocated and frustrated. As much as I tried to be patient and understanding, I couldn't shake off her resentment toward me.
I turn back to Maverick and see the pain lingering in his bright blue eyes, pleading for me to reconsider. I think about it momentarily, but then I remember that Seth is no longer around to help keep me strong, and Maverick has a whole new life.
As much as I admire him for pursuing his passion and achieving his dream, I have realized that I don't fit into his world, and there is no space for me in it.
It's time to let him go.
As I look up to meet his gaze, I can't help but notice a hint of disappointment reflected in his eyes. His emotions are palpable, radiating from him and filling the space between us. I take a moment to absorb his expression fully, and as I do, I begin to feel a sense of exhaustion and apathy wash over me. Despite wanting to comfort him, I can't find the energy to care anymore. I let out a deep sigh and shake my head, feeling the weight of defeat settle on my shoulders.
I walk past Maverick and back into the house without saying goodbye, leaving my heart behind. Tremors rock my body as I slide to the floor, wishing his absence did not hurt so much.
TWENTY-ONE
SCAR
When I wake up, confusion sets in when I glance around the room. The bright sun shines through the curtains—little dust particles float in the air. I stretch my arms and yawn, feeling the warmth of the covers still clinging to my skin. I drag myself out of bed and head straight to the bathroom and into the shower. Once I'm done, I throw on a plain tee and a pair of leggings. Descending the stairs, I reach the bottom just as there is a sudden knock at the front door, followed by the doorbell.
