Page 22

Chapter

Twenty-One

SUGARPLUM

Madden

Past

“It was always him.” – W

T he setting sun spills golden light over the garden as I sit on the stone path, kicking at the dirty rocks scattered around my feet. They skitter away with little clinks, but I don’t care.

Willow spins around in her mint green fairy dress, the fabric catching the ocean breeze and glittering like sunlight on leaves. Her long curly brown hair bounces with each twirl as she arranges white daisies and dandelions into crowns. I try really hard not to watch, but I can’t help it. She looks so happy, and it’s hard to ignore.

She glances over at me with her big blue eyes, and for a second, I forget to look away. I quickly shift my gaze to a large and old rock, pretending to be interested, even though it’s just a stupid and ugly rock. I hear her soft footsteps as she walks closer, and I can’t help but steal a glance. “Do you want to play fairies?” she asks, without saying a word. Her hands ask the question, and I think I know what she means.

Fairies?

I shake my head, trying to keep my expression grumpy. “No,” I say, but my voice comes out softer than I intended.

Her lovely smile starts to fade, and she lowers her head, slowly turning away. My stomach tightens, like I've swallowed something sour, and my chest aches. The sad look on her face stings.

I didn’t mean to hurt her. I don’t ever want to make her sad. Not her. “Wait!” I call out loud so she can hear me. “I’ll play fairies with you.”

She stops right away, her eyes lighting up like I’ve just agreed to help her save the damn world. I can feel my face turning pink, but I cross my arms and try to act uninterested, like it’s no big deal. But really, it is a big fucking deal. I can’t stand the idea of her being disappointed in me or think I’m like everyone else who doesn't get her.

Because whether I want to or not… I do. I get her.

“Really?” she signs, her hands moving quickly, and I nod, even though my stupid heart feels a little lighter.

In a heartbeat, she’s by my side, picking wildflowers from her mother’s garden like she’s on a mission. Before I can protest, she’s tucking a few behind my ears, her laugh ringing out in the quiet evening.

Willow taps my shoulder making me look up. “You look handsome.” she signs, her eyes sparkling.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

I don’t remember a time when I’ve been called anything but useless, a mistake and more ugly shit but here with these people I’m treated differently. I get called things I don’t know how to react to.

I roll my eyes, trying to act like I’m not affected by her, but I can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “I bet I look ridiculous,” I grumble.

“No. Handsome prince.” she whispers at the same time she signs the words.

Handsome prince?

That’s something I’ve never been called before.

But, suddenly, I get it. For a moment, I see what she does. Willow is not just playing fairies— she actually created a whole new world in her mother’s garden, and she’s including me— she’s making me a part of her magical world. She dances around me with a flower crown on her head, twirling while throwing flowers in the air, and I find myself getting caught up in the magic of the moment.

Willow laughs and signals for me to join her and I’m helpless to resist.

“Fine, fine! I guess I’m a stupid prince now,” I say, crossing my arms and trying to look all serious, but inside, I’m kind of enjoying it.

Maybe not everything has to be black and white.

Maybe it can be her… green.

The garden no longer feels like just a garden. It’s alive now, filled with joy and magic. And being part of Willow’s world? Well… it turns out, it isn’t so bad after all.

We settle under her mother’s favorite willow tree, the branches cascading like a curtain of green around us, hiding us from the world outside. The shade is cool, and I can smell the fresh grass and flowers all around. Willow spreads out a white picnic blanket, revealing the treats she must’ve gathered earlier—finger sandwiches with the crusts cut off and chocolate cookies that look like they’ve been baked by fairy hands.

It’s the perfect feast for fairies and I don’t doubt her mother was the one who made it for her. Mrs. O’ Sullivan makes every second of the day feel like an adventure for her kid and not she does it for me.

Willow picks a few more flowers from the ground, her fingers moving quickly, weaving them together like she’s making magic. I watch her in silence, my thoughts swirling. I want to say something, but it’s hard to find the words. It’s always been hard for me and eventually I gave up.

Then, without looking up from her flower crown, she pauses, her hands stilling for just a second. “What makes you happy?” she signs, glancing up at me with that hopeful, wide-eyed expression she always has when she wants to know something important— an expression that makes my stomach feel funny.

I frown and pick out a flower from my hair and pick it apart, watching it bend under my fingers. “Nothing.” Nothing makes me feel… anything. I’m just existing. But then I think of Willow’s smile— the way it lights up her whole face, like she’s made of sunshine— and suddenly, my chest feels funny. I feel something warm in my chest, something that wasn't there before.

I bite my lip, trying to push it away. But it doesn’t go.

Willow’s smile falters, and I see the worry in her eyes. My heart twinges a little—I didn’t mean to make her sad. “What about you?” I ask, trying to shift the focus away from me.

She thinks for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. Her lips part like she’s about to say something, then she leans forward and carefully places a crown of flowers on my head. Her fingers brush against my hair, soft and gentle. “You!” she whispers, her cute face lighting up with joy as she points at me.

I blink in surprise, my cheeks turning pink. I stare at her for a second, my frown still there. “Me?”

Willow nods enthusiastically, her grin wide, it's almost infectious. “Yes! Happy!” she signs this time, her eyes never leaving mine.

And in that moment, something shifts inside me.

Suddenly, a gust of wind sweeps through the garden, rustling the leaves above us. A flurry of petals scatters through the air, dancing around us and making everything look like it’s glowing.

I watch the flowers twirl and float around us like magic, painting the air with color. Willow laughs silently, her whole body shaking with joy as she reaches out to catch a few petals in her hands, holding them up like small treasures.

I can’t help but smile back, because in that moment, I realized something I never let myself admit before.

Willow’s smile and her happiness? They make me happy, too.Even when nothing else in the world does.

We both sit in awe, surrounded by magic and color, just… being. And then, from the house, we hear Willow’s mom call out, her voice warm and kind, like the sun on a freezing day.

“Willow! Madden! Time for waffles and milkshakes!”

I turn to see her standing in the doorway, a smile lighting up her face just like her daughter’s. It’s the kind of smile that makes everything feel right and safe. Willow’s eyes widen in pure excitement, and she bounces on her feet, her flower crown slightly askew on her head.

“Waffles!” she signs, clapping her hands together.

Willow loves waffles as much as her parents do. So much they even have them for dinner.

Mrs. O’ Sullivan waves us over, and the delicious scent of waffles wafts through the air, making my stomach rumble loud enough that I almost feel embarrassed. No one knows but I’m hungry all the time even when they feed me, I feel hungry. Maybe inside of me I eat so much for when the time comes that I don't have anything to eat at all.

“Come on, beautiful creatures! I made a loooot!” Mrs. O’Sullivan adds.

Willow doesn’t waste a second. She grabs my hand and pulls me up from the blanket. I stumble a little, still lost in that warm and strange feeling from before.

As we walk hand in hand toward the house, flowers are still floating around us. I feel my heart thudding—not just because of the waffles but from being here with her and everyone who is a part of her colorful and happy world.

“I hope waffles make you happy, Madden!” she signs, her eyes bright as she looks up at me, like she’s waiting for me to say something. I glance at her as she guides me forward, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the usual sadness and anger that cling to me like a second skin start to fade away. Those feelings float off like the petals in the breeze.

I don’t feel like something bad is nearing. And for once, that’s okay.

Maybe, just maybe, I can allow myself to be happy with these rare but kind people, even if my time here has an expiration date.

Because the feeling in my chest is one I haven’t felt a day in my life—it makes me hate my existence a little bit less.

Willow

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the resort’s garden. I settle into my favorite yoga pose, the soft earth beneath me grounding my thoughts. Inhale. Exhale. The rhythm of my breath is slow and steady, like the gentle waves in the distance.

As I close my eyes, my mind drifts to thoughts of him—of Madden. Moments from last night flash through my mind like a romance movie playing before me.

His smile was subtle at first and then it took over his handsome face.

The sweet interaction with the little girl and how his eyes shone with tenderness for the girl.

Then the kiss.

The kind of kiss that makes the world tilt on its axis and sends shivers through your bones.

Every second I spend with him feels like we’re still kids, somehow. Like time hasn't passed at all, and nothing has changed. We’re in my mother’s garden, surrounded by wildflowers and dandelions. I can almost feel the soft petals brushing against my forehead, the scent of jasmine swirling around us.

That’s how every moment with him feels, even when he’s acting like a grump.

I touch my lips, the tingles from his kiss still linger. A thrill rushes through me, but then confusion settles heavy in my chest. What does it mean? What does he want? I’ve never had a boyfriend, never navigated this strange path of feelings and relationships. Before, I didn't really care. Relationships— whether romantic or platonic never felt safe.

But with him? Everything feels different.

I’ve always been so sure of everything—my family, my safe, quiet little world. But him? He’s a whole new world I don’t understand.

One thing I’m sure of is that somehow my heart and soul have always known it was him.

I inhale deeply again, letting the calm of my surroundings settle over me. I try to clear my head, but the memory of Madden’s smile lingers, like a wild dream. What was he thinking when he kissed me? Does he feel the same way? Or was it just a moment? A spark that eventually will fade? Am I just a distraction?

The feeling of being watched creeps over, and I open my eyes. A breeze stirs the flowers around me, their vivid colors swaying together, as if they’re moving in sync.

And then I see him—Madden—standing a few paces away, watching me with an intensity that makes my heart skip a thousand beats. It’s as if he can see right through me and now knows the secrets my heart hides.

For a moment, the world fades into the background. It’s like time has stopped, and all I can hear is the loud beating of my own heart.

Does he know? Does he feel the same way I do?

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

My heart starts to beat in sync with the steady steps he takes toward me. Each footfall feels like it’s echoing in my chest like a thunderstorm.

His black eyes drift from my hair down to my face. I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks, my skin hot under his penetrating gaze, like I’m suddenly the center of his universe. His gaze travels slowly down the rest of my body and my skin feels hotter than before.

Does he like what he sees?

Nerves flutter in my stomach. The way he looks at me feels as if he’s trying to piece together a puzzle he can’t quite solve. I shift slightly, feeling the grass tickling my skin, but it does nothing to ease the tension building between us.

I can’t read his expression. He looks uninterested but I know better. There’s curiosity, maybe a hint of something deeper in his eyes that leaves me feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated.

I focus on my breathing, but it’s harder now. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. It’s like my every breath is shaky, and I can’t decide if I want to giggle, hide my face, or run in the opposite direction.

What does he see when he looks at me? Am I just the girl he grew up with, or something more? I wonder if the kiss changed anything—or maybe I’m just a fool to think someone like him would be interested in boring, weird me.

Madden takes a step closer, his brow furrowing as he watches me. My pulse quickens under his intense gaze, nerves prickling at the back of my neck. In a rush of impulse, I blurt out, “Do you want to join me?”

He raises a brow, looking as if he would rather shoot himself in the eye than do yoga. “I don’t do yoga,” he replies, his tone bored.

I can’t help but smile cheekily. “Oh, come on, sweet grinch. You might actually enjoy it! It could help you be less grumpy.”

He looks at me as if I’ve suggested he dress up as Santa Claus and spread some holiday joy, and I can’t help but giggle at the thought.

But then, when he says nothing I feel a little deflated, and I sigh dramatically. “Okay, fine. I’ll see you later, then. Ethan invited me to join him on a hike.”

Okay, that’s not nice but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The mention of Ethan has an immediate impact on Madden. His whole demeanor shifts, and I watch as his jaw tightens, his dark eyes narrowing like I’ve just betrayed. He growls low in his throat—yes, growls—and suddenly he looks like a jealous, green monster.

“A hike?” he asks, his voice sharper now, almost challenging.

I try hard not to smile. “Do you not like Ethan?”

He opens his mouth, but then pauses, looking like he’s trying to decide whether to speak or just growl at me again. His expression is a mix of frustration and something else, something deeper—maybe even something dangerous?

Is he jealous?

“No,” he says, his voice tight.

“But why?” I feign ignorance. “He’s a nice guy.”

Madden doesn't respond right away, but his eyes flash something feral. Then, he says through gritted teeth, “He wants you.”

“No, he doesn’t,” I reply quickly, too quickly. “Ethan’s just… friendly.” When he doesn't say anything, I feel my heart race. He’s angry… “Is that a problem for you?” I gulp, then add. “Him wanting me?”

For a long moment, Madden just stares at me, his jaw clenched. I hold my breath, waiting for some sort of response, but instead of snapping or storming off, he surprises me by coming over and sitting down on the grass next to me with a huff.

“How does this shit work?” he asks, his voice low and grumpy.

I grin. “It’s really simple. Just follow my lead,” I say, trying to keep my tone calm as I guide him into a seated position. I demonstrate a basic breathing exercise. “Just inhale deeply through your nose, hold it for a second, then exhale through your mouth.”

Madden mimics my movements, but his breaths are short and choppy, his brow furrowed in concentration. I watch him, trying not to laugh. He looks so grumpy while trying to relax.

“Seriously? This is supposed to help me?” he grumbles, his voice muffled as he exhales like it’s the most burdensome task in the world.

I nod, stifling a laugh. “Just give it a chance, grumpy. Try to relax!”

He shoots me a look, half exasperated, half amused, and I feel like I might collapse from how funny he looks. “I look fucking ridiculous, don’t I?” he asks, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.

I bite my lip to suppress a grin and shake my head. “You’re perfect,” I say a little too quickly.

The words hit me as soon as they leave my mouth, and my cheeks flood with heat. I quickly glance away, pretending to focus on the flowers around us, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. I hope he didn’t notice how nervous I feel.

“Willow,” he whispers. “Look at me.”

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. Slowly, I turn my gaze toward him. His eyes are soft now, not the usual intensity that makes me feel like he’s reading my mind, but something gentler, warmer. It’s like the sun just peeked out from behind a cloud, and suddenly everything feels brighter.

I search his face, feeling the words rising in me before I can stop them. “What makes you happy?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze steady. Then, with a slow, almost hesitant smile, he answers, “You.”

And just like that, I’m that little girl again, running barefoot in the garden with flowers in my head, playing fairies with the angry and lonely boy who made my heart beat wildly in my chest every time he looked at me.

I always knew Madden was one of a kind. Someone who made me feel things no one else had. I knew it when we were kids, and I know it now. That feeling, that magnetic force between us— it’s never been anything but real.

That feeling that makes my heart race inside my chest?

That feeling is love.

I fell in love with that boy when I knew nothing of love and now I’ve fallen for the grinch with a heart too big for his broad chest.

My Madden.