Page 35 of Forever & Always You
What is wrong with me?
No, seriously.
What is wrong with me?
Why do I keep doing this to Austin? Why do I keep on hurting him over and over again? How difficult is it, really, to be a decent human being and friend?
As I work my way around Austin’s bedroom, tossing more of my clothes into my suitcase, I feel deflated and hopeless.
The second we got home, he shut himself in his office downstairs and left me to pack my bags.
I can’t even be angry at him, because he is completely justified in his choice to throw me out of his house.
When you’ve broken someone down so many times before, there’s only so many second chances they can give you, and I’ve wasted all of them.
It’s all my fault. Again. And now I have to crawl back to my quiet, lonely life in Durham and find another way to build myself from the ground up.
I can finish my bachelor’s degree at Duke, I can find a better apartment, start a career .
.?. But none of that seems all that fulfilling without my best friend in my life, and I know I need to fight one final time for Austin Pierce’s forgiveness.
I need to exhaust every apology possible, and if there’s one thing we’re good at, it’s signing contracts.
I ditch the packing for now and make my way downstairs with a newfound surge of adrenaline pumping through my veins. If this doesn’t work, then nothing else will.
Outside the office door, I suck in a deep breath and knock gently. “Austin?”
“Not now, Gabby,” Austin grumbles, but that will never be enough to stop me.
“Please can I come in for a sec?” I ask, pressing my forehead against the door and waiting out his silence.
“Please? There are some things I’d like to say before I leave, because I can’t walk out of this house without telling you how sorry I am.
Please, Austin. Just hear me out and if you still want me to leave, I will without another word. ”
A few more beats of silence pass. I hear a chair scoot against the floor, and then the door clicks open. Austin stares down at me with a burned-out expression. At this point in our history, he is tired of it all. Tired of me and my excuses and my apologies.
“Can I borrow some paper?” I ask, and his brows knit together dubiously. “And a pen, too.”
“Gabby, what are you—?”
I imitate Teddy the Labrador from the shelter and give Austin the most pleading, adorable puppy-dog eyes I can possibly pull off. “Please?”
Austin sighs as he gives in. He turns back into his office and pulls a small stack of paper out of the printer, grabs a Pierce Wealth Management embossed ballpoint pen, then hands them over.
“Come with me,” I instruct, gesturing for him to follow me out of his study.
I stride over to the kitchen island and slap the paper down on the countertop, then cast a sideways glance at Austin as I hover the pen over the top sheet.
“I can promise you a thousand times that I’ll do better, that I’ll be different .
.?. But I think you need it in cold, hard ink. ”
I take my lower lip between my teeth in concentration and write: Your secrets will always be my secrets too, and I’ll never share anything you tell me in confidence.
I scribble my signature underneath, then flick over to a fresh sheet of paper.
On this one, I write: I will have your back no matter what, and will defend you in every situation even if you’re wrong, and then sign my name beneath that, too.
I’m so nervous, the tremor in my hands is clear in my chicken-scratch handwriting. I grab another sheet, and another, and another, writing down every single one of my promises:
You will come first every single time, no matter what.
I won’t repeat past mistakes.
I’ll try my best to always make you happy, and I’ll never hurt you on purpose.
I spread out the signed papers across the countertop and step back, practically vibrating from the adrenaline rush of trying to get all of my words out so quickly.
I don’t know how else to drill it into Austin’s brain that my intentions are genuine, that I want this to work more than anything, that I’m not the cruel Gabrielle he knew when we were teenagers.
He pulls out a chair and slumps down into it, running his hands over the sheets of paper in front of him while I hold my breath. When he doesn’t say anything at all, I decide to take a risk.
“Austin,” I say clearly, draping my arms around his neck and hugging him from behind.
I press my face into the crook of his neck, squeezing my eyes shut.
He still smells like the beach. “I was the biggest idiot in the world when we were younger, but I promise .?.?. I promise if ever I am an idiot these days, it is never on purpose. I care about you so much.” My words are muffled against the cotton fabric of his shirt, and he remains frozen beneath my grip on him.
“Please don’t make me leave. I can’t bear to lose you after how much progress we’ve made. ”
Finally, he reaches up to squeeze one of my hands as he bows his head forward, and my chest relaxes with the tiniest bit of relief. “I don’t want you to leave, Gabby,” he murmurs, “but the way I feel about you scares the hell out of me.”
“The way I feel about you scares the hell out of me, too,” I whisper, “because I am so terrified of ruining it all. You’re my best friend, Austin. You always have been, and I just need you to trust me. Just one more time.”
I snuggle even deeper into him, arms wrapped tight around his neck, his hand holding mine.
We remain like this for what feels like forever, but I don’t even mind.
If he still asks me to leave, this will be the last time I ever enjoy his embrace and I want to make it count.
I want to drag it out long enough to memorize it.
Eventually, I hear a quiet, “Okay.”
I lift my head from his shoulder and my heart straight-up skips three whole beats. “Okay?” I repeat, too scared to believe it.
Austin twists within my arms, angling himself to face me.
His hands lower to my waist as he tucks me between his legs, and the way his gaze has softened is enough alone to make me want to scream from the rooftops.
“One more time,” he says with a very serious nod, and I mirror him with an even bigger nod of my own.
A defeated smile toys at the corner of his mouth, and that’s when I finally relax in relief.
“Truth is .?.?. I’ve missed you the past hour. ”
“I miss you always,” I murmur, cupping his face in my hands and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Oh. There’s still sand in your hair.”
“Then perhaps a shower is needed,” he says with a grin, and a scream rips from my throat as he stands from the chair and tosses me straight over his shoulder, carrying me upstairs.