Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
"No!" I cry, tears springing to my eyes. I hurry out of the bathroom, curling up on the bed. "I never blamed you. You didn't run me off the road. You had nothing to do with it, Teo. But…you didn't show up, either."
"Didn't show…?" He pauses for a moment. "Is that what you think happened?"
"That is what happened, Teo," I say sadly, hugging my pillow. "I was in the hospital for two weeks, and you never showed up. You kissed me, and I ran off. And I never saw you again until last night."
"Christ," he rasps. "Butterfly, that's not what happened."
"Yes, it is."
"No, baby," he says softly, "it isn't. I'm the one who pulled you from the car after the accident. You ran out of there, and I couldn't fucking let you go like that, so I went looking for you. I got there right after…" He chokes. "You were barely conscious. By the time I pulled you out of the car, you weren't breathing."
"Teo," I whisper, tears slipping down my cheeks. "You were there?"
"Yeah, I was there. I was the first one at the hospital after they flew you out. I stayed through your surgery. Stayed until you woke up. But you didn't want me there, butterfly. The whole damn time I was trying to get you out of the car, you just kept mumbling not to tell me." He exhales a shaking breath, sending static down the line. "So, once you were awake, I sat outside the hospital. I stayed until you were released. I couldn't leave, but you didn't want me there, either."
"Why didn't anyone t-tell me?"
"You were already pissed at me for taking away your choice. I figured if they told you I'd ignored your wishes again, you'd be even more pissed at me, so I asked them not to tell you," he mutters. "And it was my fault you were even on the road that night. I didn't deserve to be there."
A sob catches in my throat, choking me. "T-that's not true. It wasn't your f-fault."
"Yeah, it was, butterfly. You didn't even want me to know about the accident because you were so goddamn mad at me."
I don't remember much about what happened after the accident, but I remember the accident itself with terrifying clarity. And I remember what I was thinking when I saw headlights rushing toward me in my lane and swerved off the road. I remember what I was thinking when I slammed into the light pole, too. And it isn't what he thinks.
"I d-didn't want you to k-know because I knew you'd b-blame yourself," I whisper, tears flowing down my cheeks unchecked. I didn't know how bad it was at the time. I just remember the absolute certainty that he couldn't find out about it, or he'd blame himself, just like he always did when I got hurt. I was afraid he'd kill the other driver for hurting me. But I didn't know I was saying those words out loud. I didn't know the damage I was doing to him.
God, we did so much fucking damage to each other without even meaning to do it. Maybe he was right, and we did need time apart. Maybe we would have destroyed each other if we'd gone on to college together. I don't know. We were so good together. At least, it felt that way. But…we depended on each other too much, maybe. And then, when we didn't have each other, we both fell apart. We couldn't function.
We spent so much of our lives together that we didn't know how to be Nadia without Teo or Teo without Nadia. I'm not sure if we'll ever fully know how to be those people. How do you live without half your soul? But we've taught ourselves to be those people as much as possible. Even when it was excruciating, we learned.
But after six years, maybe it's time to stop forcing ourselves to endure the pain and start trying to learn how to be Nadia and Teo together again. It's what I've always wanted. And I think, maybe, it's what he's always wanted, too. We aren't kids anymore. We've broken each other. We've broken ourselves. And despite everything, neither of us has ever moved on. I think that matters.
We matter.
"Jesus," he rasps. "All this goddamn time…"
"Can we fix it, Teo?"
"I'm sure as hell going to try, butterfly."
"I miss you."
He makes a sound I've never heard—half broken groan, half laugh. "You're killing me, baby. Keep saying shit like that, and we'll be all over the news again tomorrow when I climb through your window in front of the paps stationed outside your house tonight."
"You can't. Zoya is here."
"When does she leave?"
"In the morning."
"I have practice in the morning."
"I have to be at the studio tomorrow afternoon."
"Come over here when you're done," he says. "I'll cook for you. We'll talk."