He flinches but lifts his head, determination shining back in his eyes. My words didn't deter him one bit. They spurred him on.
"You want to hear the truth? I love you. Jesus, I'm so fucking in love with you I can't see straight." Parker exhales a shaky breath, as if it took everything in him to declare that. "That's why I thought letting you go was the right thing to do. My family needed me, and I didn't want to saddle you with my problems. A trail of baggage a mile long follows me everywhere, and I couldn't burden you with it. It wouldn't be fair." A wry smile curves his lips. "You deserve nothing but the world, and I thought I couldn't give it to you. Honestly, I still think that way. But turned out, I'm not as selfless as I initially believed. I just can't stay away."
I stare at him, my tears now streaming down my cheeks, refusing to be held back any longer. My free hand balls into a fist. Damn him. "You truly are an idiot," I choke out, wanting to kiss him and strangle him at the same time. "I told you I love you, you jerk. I didn't care how many problems you have. I wanted to be with you."
"I know," he nods. "I've always known that. And that's why I don't deserve you, but fuck if I'm letting you go a second time." He reaches out and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. "I don't care how long it'll take to get your forgiveness. You're fucking worth it, Peaches."
CHAPTER 37
Sawyer
It's been over a week since Parker approached me in the parking lot and declared his feelings for me. True to his word, he's been working on proving himself. He walks me to my classes every single day. He patiently waits for me at my locker then takes my books from my hands. He doesn't even attempt to make conversation, like he knows that he won't get a decent response. That I'm not ready for that just yet.
So we walk in silence, ignoring the curious looks from everyone and the rumors going around the school saying we're already back together but keeping it lowkey.
He still gives me roses, but instead of getting other guys to do the work, he simply slips them into my locker every morning. Each rose is accompanied by a short message. It differs every time, and I find myself looking forward to it every morning.
But my favorite one happens to be yesterday's message. On the card attached to the pink rose are the words: "Your smile never ceases to light my world." I have to admit that it sounds cheesy, but if his intention was to see me smile, he succeeded.
And he's there without fail after every last period, walking me to my car as if to make sure that I get in safely.
That's not all though. Parker also makes it a point to text me "good morning" and "good night," as if to ensure that he's the first and last person I think about throughout the day.
Brayden thinks his methods are sweet. Quinn finds them amusing. While his friends, especially Bennett, keep asking me when I'm going to put him out of misery, saying that they're already running out of ideas on how to help his case. Quinn's theory was spot on. I just hope she's not right about the serenading part.
Liam says I should cut Parker a little slack. That he believes that his ex-best friend is a hundred percent committed to me this time. That he wouldn't have gone through all the trouble if he wasn't. Which, in turn, leads me to believe that Liam has truly changed. He no longer resents Parker. They'll never be friends again, but it's a step in the right direction at least.
On the other hand, Peyton, who's been quietly observing everything from the sidelines, tells me that I should keep making Parker work for it. That it's good to see him sweat for a change.
It's the nicest thing she ever said to me after what happened. Then again, it's not like she's still acting hostile toward me. Her attitude has considerably changed after our last talk. Like Parker and Liam, we'll never be friends again. But we've reached a point where we no longer actively hate each other. I say that's progress.
"What's on your mind?"
Startled, I snap my eyes up. Parker is finally making conversation with me. We're heading for my next class now. And I thought, just like before, we'd get there in silence. Obviously, he's done being quiet.
"Why do you want to know?"
His sharp gaze roams my face, as if memorizing every feature. "With you, I want to know everything."
I feel my face heating up. Why does his effect on me remain the same? It's not fair.
You know you're still in love with him. You told him yourself. So why are you still dragging it out? Why can't you admit the truth to him? That you've forgiven him?
Because despite his words and actions slowly chipping at my resolve, I still can't trust him not to break my heart again. Even though I believe that he's sincere about winning me back, there's still a part of me that's afraid he'd revisit the decision that tore us apart. It's the one thing that's keeping me from giving him another chance. What if taking him back will end with me in pieces once again?
I'd be stupid to let that happen.
I need to guard my heart.
"Nothing's on my mind," I finally say, my tone sounding cold even to my ears.
"Are you mad at me?"
Yes! For making me feel things. For making me love you still.
"What's with all the questions?" I snap instead of voicing out the thoughts running in my head.
"Peaches, don't shut me out." He sighs. "I'm just—"
With hard eyes, I round on him. "You know what, Parker? I can take it from here. You don't have to walk me all the way to class. And you don't need to walk me to my car later, either."
I don't wait for his response. I just stride off, feeling annoyed and a little guilty that I lost my cool.
It's not his fault that my thoughts are in constant war with my emotions when it comes to him.
He stays away the rest of the day though, doing exactly what I asked of him, giving me much needed space.
It's what I want, isn't it? But honestly, I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Maybe a mix of both. Either way, I know I need to make up my mind. I need to make a decision on whether or not I want him back in my life.
And I need to do it fast. I can't just leave him hanging and make him feel like I'm stringing him along. It wouldn't be fair to him.
When I get home, Duke is waiting for me at the foyer, whining and jumping around, his tail wagging wildly.
I pat his head absently, my thoughts still wrapped around Parker and the decision looming over me. I feel like I need to talk to someone about it. Quinn will be willing to listen—she always does—but she'll just likely tell me to make him wait. Funny enough, it's probably the only thing she and Peyton agree about. Not that I'm planning to mention that part.
I'd go to Avery, but my sister is busy preparing for an upcoming exam. I don't want to bother her. I'll just probably wait for her to get home.
Dad's office is wide open as I walk past. I'm about to keep heading up the stairs so as not to bother him, but then I peek inside and see him holding a picture frame, a wistful look etched on his face.
I don't have to glance at it to know that it's a picture of Mom. It's been on his desk for years. He always says Mom's smiling face gives him the inspiration to write. And every novel he's written since her death has been dedicated to her.
Avery and I cried the first time he mentioned that. We all did. It's bittersweet, knowing that she plays an important part in his writing career, even though she's no longer here.
Then again, Mom inspires me to write, too. Her memories keep the idea flowing. It feels good to know that Dad and I have that in common.
Lifting my hand, I softly knock on the door. "Hey, Dad."
He glances up and smiles, setting the picture back on his desk. "Everything okay?"
My lips hitch up at the corners. "Just dandy." I step inside the room. "Having writer's block?"
"I finished three chapters, so no. But I think I'll call it a day."
"This early?" My brows arch up in surprise before furrowing in concern. He works himself too hard sometimes. "You're not feeling sick, are you? Do you want me to make you a so
up or something?"
"I'm fine, kid." He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Just tired and a slight headache." When I open my mouth to argue, he hurries on, "Nothing a short nap can't cure. Anyway, how's your day?"
I casually shrug my shoulders. "Great. Uneventful as always."
Dad stares at me for a beat, seeing through the facade. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
He's clearly thinking about the days I spent in my room, refusing to go to school. I haven't told him anything, but he knows it had something to do with Parker. It doesn't take a genius to find out about it, anyway. For one, Parker hasn't been around. And two, I've been actively avoiding talking about him whenever his name comes up.
I'm not comfortable discussing my relationship problems with my Dad—Avery's there for that reason alone—but there's something else I can talk to him about. And I think it's more important.
"Don't be afraid to talk to him. Trust me, he'll be as impressed as I am."
I hope you're right, Ms. Langham.
Drawing courage from her words, I take a deep breath. "Actually, I need to tell you something."
CHAPTER 38
Sawyer
Parker's not at school today. At first, I thought he was still giving me space, not wanting to piss me off again, but then I couldn't find him anywhere.
When I asked Jamie, he said he had no idea. Which instantly made me worry and wonder what the problem could be.
Parker doesn't skip school for no reason. Well, most of the time, at least. Any other time I'd think that was the case. But after what happened to Aria, I'm worried that he's dealing with another serious family issue.
I wonder if Michael is bothering her again. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her around either.
Please let it not be the case. I grip the steering wheel tight that my knuckles are already turning white.
Should I go to his house? But what if he's not there? What if—dread coils in my gut—he's in the hospital again? And this time, he's the one in trouble? Maybe Michael did hurt Aria, and Parker went after him, then he—
"No. Stop overthinking. He's fine. He has to be," I murmur, flooring it to my house. "He's probably just taking a break."
But no matter what I tell myself, I still can't get the racing thoughts out of my head. They keep flashing through my mind even as I take Duke out to his afternoon walk. So as he runs around the park with kids and other dogs, I sit on a swing and fish my phone out of my hoodie.
And before I can talk myself out of it, I text Parker. You didn't come to school today. Everything okay?
A minute later, I get a response. Missed me? ;)
I blow out a relieved breath, putting a hand to my chest. He's okay. But now what? Should I ignore his message or reply? But what will I say?
"Ugh. This feels like middle school all over again." I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. Just a little worried.
Well, I missed you.
I swallow around the lump in my throat, my heart fluttering. I miss you, too. Hell, I miss you every day. Sometimes it drives me crazy.
But I don't tell him that. Instead, I put my phone back into my pocket and spend the next several minutes watching Duke goof around with his playmates, chuckling quietly when he and another dog sniff each other's butts.
"Think they like each other?" a deep voice muses from behind me, causing my heart to freeze in my throat.
Parker.
"How did you find me?" I ask, still keeping my back to him.
"I went to your house and talked to your dad. He told me to look for you here." From the corner of my eye, I watch him sit on the swing beside mine.
"Gee, thanks Dad," I mumble.
"Don't be hard on him. He didn't volunteer the information. I had to, uh, prove myself before he agreed to give your location."
I whip my gaze in his direction, ignoring the rush of longing washing over me at the sight of him. He's dressed in plain gray t-shirt, black jeans stretched across his defined thighs.
Ugh. Why does he always look so freaking good? It's not fair.
Meanwhile, I'm conscious about the fact that I didn't even bother combing my hair before leaving the house. And that I'm in my old debate club shirt and black sweatpants.
I doubt I look good right now.
Not wanting to give away my feelings, I glance away. "What did he make you do?"
"Nothing much. Just asked a few questions and sternly warned me not to make you cry again."
My cheeks burn. I can imagine how that went through. I can't believe Dad did that. Still, warmth fills my chest at his protective gesture. I already know I don't intend to confront him about it. He's just doing his job as my father.
"And what did you say?" I can't help asking.
Parker meets my eyes with his dark ones before answering. "That I'd rather cut all of my limbs than put you through that a second time."
My breath hitches at the intensity of his words and the way he said them. "Careful," I murmur. "I might hold you to that promise."
His lips pull up at the corners. "I won't expect anything less from you, Peaches. I'm sorry I wasn't able to walk you to your classes today."
"Yeah." I frown. "Where were you?" I've been worried sick.
His expression turns somber as he stares straight ahead. "We checked Mom into rehab."
My eyes flare wide. "You did?"
He nods. "It was Aria's idea. She believes Mom will stay sober this time."
"How about you? What do you think?"
Hope flickers within his eyes, making him look vulnerable. My heart clenches for him. For the boy who had to watch his dad drive away with his mistress. The boy who had to watch his mom chase that car down. And the boy who was left behind, helpless as he watched his mom destroy her life.
"I think so, too. In the past, Mom had to be forced to go in. She didn't want any help. But last week, when we talked to her about it, she agreed without any hesitation. I think Aria's assault gave her a wake-up call. She was shaken up by it. We all were." He inhales a deep breath, as if remembering that day at the hospital. He's not going to forget it any time soon. Probably never will. I know I won't. "Anyway, when we said goodbye to her earlier, she made a promise that it would be the last time she'd walk through those doors. I know it's too early, but I'm hoping she's right. I don't know what I'll do if…" He trails off, letting out another shaky breath.
Not putting much thought into it, I reach out and place my hand on top of his. "It's going to be fine. She's going to come out of that facility as a new person. You'll see."
He laces his fingers through mine and brings our clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss on the back of mine, making my stomach flutter with butterflies.
But instead of pulling my hand from his grasp, I keep it there. I've missed it. Us. "I told Dad about my short stories."
Parker looks at me in surprise. He knows that I'd kept my writing a secret from Dad. He even tried to convince me a few times to open up about it. "What did he say?"
A wide grin breaks across my face. "He was surprised. He asked that I print hard copies so he could read every single one."
His brows shoot up. "And?"
"He said they were really good," I nearly squeal in delight.
"Told you he'd say that," he grins.
Parker did, in fact, say that after he read my short stories himself. But because I was scared and doubting myself, I refused to listen. It had to take Ms. Langham to convince me. Maybe because she's an author herself, and I made myself believe that she had more authority on the matter.
"He's happy that there's another writer in the family—well, his words not mine."
I remember the look of pride on Dad's face when he said that. Most of the time, he's just plain, old Dad to me. But in that moment, he was the international bestselling author everyone adores. It felt like an honor to hear those words from him.
And I'm pretty sure he teared up when I mentioned that it had always been m
y dream to get into Carlisle University. He just quickly pulled me in for a hug to hide it. It was absolutely endearing.
I should've told him the truth from the beginning.
"Because he's proud of you. Just like I am."
I smirk around the warmth bursting in my chest. "Sucking up to me, Holloway? Thought that'd earn you some brownie points?"
Parker chuckles softly, the sound turning my insides into mush. "You caught me, Dunn." Then he cocks up an eyebrow, as if to say and what are you going to do about it?
My heart starts to hammer against my ribcage at that loaded look. I know what he's really asking.
The thing is, I already have an answer. I no longer need to think things through. I've known it for a while now, but I was holding myself back, prolonging the inevitable. But I don't want to do that anymore.
I'm done making him wait.
Biting back a grin, I glance away. "If you keep doing that, this relationship will surely last long."
From my periphery, I see him freeze, staring at me unblinkingly. "What did you just say?"
"I think…" I draw in a breath then slide my gaze back to him. "I think I'm ready to give it another go." He opens his mouth, but I raise a finger and give him a stern look. "But if you break my heart again—I swear to God, Holloway—that's it. No more chances. This is the last one I'll ever give you."
Truth is there's still a part of me that fears I'll once again end up getting hurt by him, but I refuse to let it rule over me anymore. Because being in a relationship with someone you love means that risk will never really go away. It's just a question of whether or not you're willing to take it.
I choose to take that risk.
Parker swallows hard, taking a shuddering breath. His hand squeezes mine. "And I swear you won't regret it."
"I seriously hope so because I'm getting sick of crying," I choke out, my throat burning with emotion.
A tear falls out from my eye, and Parker reaches out to wipe it with his thumb. "Just as it kills me to see you cry," he murmurs. "Fuck. I really was an idiot."
When We Fall Page 22