Facade

“Neither can you,” he answers back in that rough voice of his.

“I know. I saw Mom last week. We got into it and I told her how I felt. She kicked me out and I said I wouldn’t be back. I haven’t and I won’t.” It still hurts to remember, and the urge to call her, to check in on her is there, but it’s hard giving out love to people who shove it back in your face. That’s not what love’s supposed to be about. No, it’s not perfect and people get hurt, but it’s a give and take. And it should be comfort, not pain.

Maddox takes a deep breath and I know he’s trying to calm himself. That he wants to say something about Mom but is trying not to.

“You’re growing up,” he says, which is ridiculous.

“I’m eighteen. I’ve been grown up for a while.”

“It’s different now. Good for you.” He tries to stand, but I grab his hand and keep him next to me.

“It’s time for you to do the same. None of it’s our fault, Maddy.”

He looks at me and gives me a small smile, leans forward and kisses my head. “What I should know in here”—he touches his head—“I can’t always feel in here,” then his chest.

And I know that’s the end of our conversation. Maybe I should push, but I don’t. I might not have tried to make Adrian talk, but I pushed my way into his life. It’s hard to regret it because regret would mean not knowing him, not loving him, but I regret the pain I caused. I’m trying to learn from that.

“Have you talked to him?” my brother asks.

“No… I still haven’t seen him. I don’t know where he is.” It hurts so badly and every part of me misses him, but I get it too. I lied. Things are so much worse because that little boy was his son.

“Pussy,” Maddox mumbles, shaking his head.

“Hey! That’s not fair. You don’t know everything… Ashton was his son…”

I’ve never seen my brother’s face pale the way it does. Regret flashes across his features, colors his eyes. Regret for not giving Adrian a chance? For hitting him that day? I don’t know.

“I miss him.” I curl up next to my brother and lay my head on his shoulder. He puts an arm around me and holds me. “I really do love him.”

He gives me a small squeeze, offering me his support. “I’m sorry, Laney. Sorry about it all. And… I’m sorry for him too.”

We sit there, holding each other. Supporting each other and I know we’re going to be okay.

* * *

I walk up to my apartment after begging for my job back and stop dead in my tracks. My heart slams around inside my rib cage as I run to the door as though it might disappear.

Bending over, I pick up the clear plastic container and look at the perfect caramel apple inside, and smile. My eyes dart around as though Adrian is standing there and I managed to miss him. Of course he’s not, but he was here and it makes me feel like I could fly.

Because he’s okay. That’s all I need is for him to be okay.

“Maddox!” I push the front door open. “Did you see him?”

“See who?” He’s sitting on the balcony smoking a cigarette.

“Adrian. There was a caramel apple by the door.”

“And it was automatically him?” He grins. I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah… it was him. How long have you been outside? Did you hear him or anything else out front?”

“Christ, Laney. I just texted you a few minutes ago to see how close to home you were. Don’t you think I would have told you if I heard from your boyfriend?”

I roll my eyes at him, knowing he’s right, but it doesn’t matter. All that does is let me know Adrian’s okay.

I look at the container again and that’s when I see it. The small piece of paper taped to the bottom. Ru

My little ghost,

Still haunts my nights,

Walking with stars,

I reach out my hand,

Hold the stars

And hope, one day,

They’ll be you.

I’m not ready. I’m trying.

Adrian

Clutching the note to my chest, I cry.

* * *

“I’m glad you stayed,” Cheye

“I thought about leaving, but I like it here. It’s not like Maddox and I really have anything at home. He’s been training with this tattoo artist he met. He likes it. I’m hoping it will be something that sticks. I talked to him about going to school, but I don’t know if he will. I think it’s too hard for him unless he can play ball.”

She nods. We’ve been hanging out quite a bit. I’m thankful she forgave me and thankful to have her for a friend.

“Have you heard from Adrian?” she asks, even though I know she already knows the answer. It’s been two weeks since he left the apple and I haven’t heard a word from him since. Which is okay. He has a lot to work through and I want him to do it. I’d like nothing more than for us to find our way back to each other. To be able to hold him again, but what’s more important is that he finds a way to be okay. And that I make sure I’m okay on my own too.

“No. What about you?”

“Colt’s been talking to him. I have a little. It’s fu

My cheeks hurt my smile is so big. Moisture pools in my eyes. “Good… that’s good. I’m glad they’re close again. They deserve that.”

I open the door and Cheye

“I need to go check my mail,” Cheye

Adrian Westfall.

“It’s from him. I have to go,” I tell her before I’m taking the stairs two at a time to get to my apartment. Maddox isn’t home, but I still go to my room, needing privacy before I open it.

When I do, I see it’s a huge stack of paper. Hundreds and hundreds of pages.

FOR ASHTON

My hands shake and my heart stutters and I’m both scared and excited to read it. Honored he would share it with me. Curling up on the bed, I start to read. It’s more than Adrian’s words on the paper; it’s his heart. As though he spilled it onto the pages. It’s raw and real and heartbreaking… and beautiful.

It takes me five hours to read it, but I don’t stop until I’ve read every word. Until I know his heart inside and out.

Tears rack my body as I get to the end. Ugly crying, tears that somehow cleanse me too. Did they do the same for him? I wonder.

I hope so. I really, really do.

* * *

It’s the end of April. Four months since I met Adrian and two months since I lost him. We’re crazy busy at work when Jamie comes up to me and grabs my hand.

“He’s here!”

“Who?” I start to ask, but that’s when I see Adrian standing by the hostess station.

My heart falls to my feet. He’s beautiful. Those dark, intense eyes entrancing me. The first thing I think of is I’m glad he hasn’t lost that intensity. Glad it’s still a part of him.

“Let me help him,” I tell Jamie. My legs are so weak I’m not sure they’ll hold me, but they do.

“Hi,” I say, trying to fight back a smile. To keep myself from reaching for him and hugging him and telling him I love him.

“Hey.” When I don’t move or say anything, he quirks a half grin. “Got any tables?”

“Oh my God. Sorry. Yeah.” I feel so flustered.

I walk over and seat him in his booth. The one he always sat in when he’d come. I try to hand him a menu, but he shakes his head. “Pancakes,” he says, and I smile at him.

I’m busy for the next hour and a half, but he doesn’t leave. I don’t get to talk to him except for doing my job, but he sits at the table, eats his food, and then waits…