Page 49 of Twisted (Never After)

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” His voice is playful as he hollers through the yard.

A warm feeling fills up the center of my chest, and I peek around the trunk of the tree, the snow crunching beneath my gloved fingers as I try to see him and stay hidden at the same time.

He looks taller than when I saw him last, his jacket too thin for how cold it is outside, and the tips of his bare fingers are red from holding on to the snow.

“I know you’re there, princess,” he goads. “You can run but you can’t hide.”

He glances my way and I dive back behind the thick trunk, my breathing choppy as it escapes in visible puffs through the air. I flatten my back against the bark, trying to remain as still as possible, but nothing and no one could wipe away the smile that’s stretching across my face.

The crunch of shoes on snow gets closer, and my heart pitter- patters against my ribs, my frozen nose tingling in the winter air.

Suddenly, warm breath coasts across my cheek and I bite the inside of my lip to keep from squealing.

“Got ya,” he whispers.

My eyes pop open, but before I can even take a step, he smashes a snowball right between my eyes.

“Oh!” I yell, surprised. “You big jerk!”

He laughs and stands up, jogging away, and this time, I shoot up after him, chasing him around the yard. He might be bigger, but I’m faster, and I tackle him quickly, taking us both clumsily down to the ground. I grab a handful of the snow right beside his head and shove it straight into his nose.

“Eat it!” I yell, giggling between each word.

“I give up! I give up!” he laughs back, picking me up by the waist and dropping me to his side.

It must be twenty degrees outside, but my chest is warm, spreading heat through my body, and I decide that this must be what pure happiness feels like, and I want to capture the moment forever.

I reach to the side of my neon- pink snow pants, unzipping one of the pockets on my leg and grabbing my disposable camera, the one I keep on me at all times just in case there’s something I want to remember forever.

Before I can hold it up, Aidan grabs it from my hand, his other arm reaching out to pull me into his side. “Say cheese.”

Aidan grins, his dimples creasing the apples of his cheeks and his smile wide, and right before he hits the button on top, he leans in, resting the side of his head against mine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach.

I come out of the memory, my fingers coasting across our snow- kissed faces, the happiness so clear on both of them.

Shaking my head, I fold up the picture, slipping it in the side of my bra, wanting to keep it with me to give me something to hold on to today other than the sadness welling up in my sternum and spreading outward, infecting every single cell.

I wish more than anything that Aidan was here right now, that he could take me in his arms and tell me everything would be okay. If he were, I’d tell him how sorry I was for fucking everything up. I’d tell him how if I could, I’d take it all back and make different decisions, ones that wouldn’t be made from my fear and cowardice. I’d thank him for sticking by me through thick and thin, always calming me down and reminding me of why I chose him in the first place.

To be honest, I would have bailed on myself a long time ago.

Tears spring from my eyes and pour down the front of my face, hot and messy against my cheeks, but once they start to fall, they’re impossible to stop. So I stop fighting against the feeling and let it overwhelm me instead, until I can’t see, can’t think, can’t feelanythingother than the ache radiating from the center of my chest, pulsing with regret.

I cry for the loss of Aidan.

For Baba.

For myself.

I hiccup, wiping what I’m sure are black smears of mascara as I try to see through my now- swollen eyes. My legs tingle when I stand, numb from sitting on the closet floor. I move slowly but sure, my breaths stuttering as my nervous system tries to calm, and I walk out of my closet and grab an empty box, moving back to the piles of clothes and continuing to pack.

Because I have no other choice.

Acceptance of my situation stabs at my chest, and it splinters into a thousand pieces, washing away the foggy grief and bringing clarity.

Just because something feels hopeless doesn’t mean it truly is. But to handle this, to even have achanceof figuring any of this out, I have to be smart. Cunning. I have to learn Julian’s game and play it better than him so I can get rid of the son of a bitch for goodandkeep Sultans in the family.

My father is dying.