Page 147 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You

The dormitory is silent when I step inside, my footsteps echoing softly along the corridor. I take the lift, my body still feels too sore to manage the stairs.

When I reach my floor, I pause outside my door.

The lock’s been replaced.

A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it, until I remember he was the one who broke it in the first place. The smile fades, replaced by a scowl.

For a moment, I just stand there, staring at the new lock.

It’s ridiculous, really, how something so small can hold so much weight. He breaks things, then fixes them, as if that somehow evens the balance.

And yet… despite the ache, the guilt, the anger, I still love him. I miss what we were before everything fell apart. Just thetwo of us, reckless and in love, foolish enough to believe we could make it work against the world.

But now… we’re fractured.

Different.

Still, there’s a small part of me that hopes. That believes, perhaps one day, we might find our way back to each other. But it won’t be easy. He’ll have to earn it.

Because I can’t love a man who doubts me, who looks at me and chooses to believe someone else instead.

That’s something I’ll need time to untangle.

I press my keypad and step inside.

The breath catches in my throat.

The room is filled with white tulips.

They’re everywhere—on the windowsill, the coffee table, the floor, the counter. Dozens of vases, maybe hundreds. It looks like a garden bloomed in my absence. I walk slowly through the space, afraid I’ll knock one over.

As I move through the corridor toward my bedroom, I see that it’s the same there too. Every surface is covered. Each bouquet has a small card tucked between the stems.

I sink onto the edge of my bed and reach for the first note within reach. His handwriting meets me instantly.

I start reading.

I don’t know how long I sit there, card after card, tracing the memories written between the lines.

By the time I look up, the room tilts slightly.

I realise, distantly, that I never ate.

I should have done that first. But I got lost in the tulips.

Lost in him.

I stand slowly, my head still spinning a little, and make my way out of the bedroom. I glance around for my glucose meter and spot it on the island. My fingers fumble slightly as I prick my skin and wait for the reading.

I sigh and head into the kitchen, opening cupboards, the fridge, looking for something quick to raise my levels. I grab a small bottle of juice and start taking out ingredients for a light dinner.

The sound of the door unlocking makes me look up, as Arlo steps inside.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, just watches me, his eyes unreadable. “You’re low.”

I roll my eyes. “Are you planning to show up every time that happens?”

“Yes,” he says simply. “I’ll always make sure you’re alright. Nothing bad is ever happening to you again.”