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chapter twenty one

help me hold on to you

T he sun was just starting to set over the city when I met Rory outside Flo's and we began our walk back to the apartment. I silently prayed that Tristan had gotten my texts about tidying up the remanets of last nights bender as he called it, because walking her into a living room full of beer bottles and stale pizzas crusts would surely end whatever this was in a heartbeat.

“La Dame aux Camélias.”

Her voice lifted me out of my prayer session. “Huh?”I mumbled, looking down at her as she walked beside me.

“For your midterm.” The strawfrom her latte slipped between her lips, before she let them glide open again. “It’s a novel by Alexandre Dumas."

"Tell me more," I said as I slipped a chunk of Flo's blueberry muffins in my mouth.

Pink invaded her cheeks. "I only know of it because my Mom talked about the ballet adaptation she saw when she still lived in France, and I just thought it would make a good French classic to write about.”

I c ouldn’t take my eyes off the wayshe was glowing. “What’s it about?”

Wonder filled her eyes as they fellahead of her. “It’s about this beautiful courtesan, Marguerite, who falls in love with a guy named Armand. He worships her, like, obviously , and for a while, they have this dreamy love affair where she gives up her old life for him.”

I take a sip of my coffee, brushing blueberry crumbs off my quarter zip. “That’s sweet.”

She nods, peering at me. “It is sweet. Very sweet. Until Armand’sDad shows up and ruins everything.”

My stomach drops, and I grip mycup tighter. “His dad?” The question comes out breathless.

She nods, giving me her fullattention this time. “Classic case of parental manipulation. He guilt-trips her into leaving, convincing her that staying with Armand will ruin his future, and her life.”

My stomach fell another tenstories, as the plastic lid dug into my hand, sharp and grounding. Instead of getting lost in her eyes, I dropped my head, trying my hardest to not give in and look at her. If I did, she’d see something eating at me.

Because, fuck.

Rory kept talking, but I was stuckthere.

Because no. No , this wasn'thappening.

The day I considered coming cleanabout all the reasons I blanked her last year and this happens. I should’veknown. The universe loves pulling shit like this—but dangling my secrets in fro nt of Rory like a time bomb, ticking louder and louder, waiting for the moment she finally gets it ? It was silent torture.

"So she lies, tells Armand she doesn’t love him anymore, and breaks his heart as well as her own."

I swallow. Hard.

She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She doesn’t realise she’s describing us , that this was exactly what kept me from her last year. That every time I wanted to be with her, his voice was in my head.

But the universe does. Andapparently, it thinks I’ve been keeping this secret long enough.

"So she just ditches him? " I heard myself say. My voice was steady, but my fingers wrapped around the cup so hard I was convinced it was about to burst. "That’s—God, that’s messed up."

"She does it for him," Rory argues, her gaze warming the side of my face. "She loves him so much that she’d rather see him hate her than let him throw his life away."

My jaw locks.

The universe isn’t just outing me. It’s mocking me.

Because wasn’t that the exact logic I used? That if I kept her at arm’s length, she’d be better off? That if I made her think I didn’t care, she’d move on and find someone less complicated ?

And yet—here she was. Still here. Still looking at me like I didn’t spend last year silently pushing her away. And I couldn't tell if that made me feel relieved or worse.

I rolled the takeout cup again, pretending like my hands didn’t suddenly feel unsteady. "How does it end?”

She tells me. Marguerite dies alone. Armand realises the truth too late.

The universe gives me one final shove.

I felt windswept as I finally met her gaze, settling into the warmth of the golden flecks as I pulled my smile tight, trying to convince her that my heart wasn’t sinking and my head wasn’t spinning. “How about we pick something less tragic?”

She shrugged, as though agreeing with me, but I caught it. I always caught the little things with her. And right now I didn’t miss the flutter of her lashes, the kind that convinced me that she wanted to argue that it was romantic, and not tragic.

But finding the positives inheartbreak was Rory.

The streets had cleared a little sinceleaving Flo’s, and the sky had melted into a canvas of burnt orange and pastel swirls, casting a hazy glow over every building, every car roof. Even the high points of Rory’s already rosy cheeks.

Letting myself memorise them,counting up to 28 freckles this time, was enough to settle my heart after that emotinal warfare.

For now.

But I made a silent promise to myself that I'd tell her everything. Soon.

Because fuck turning us into Armad and Marguerite.

“So, whatdid you want to tell me?” Rory asked, as we came to crosswalk.

I shook my head, bringing my eyesback together. “Hmm?”

She looked at me, that classic smilein place. “You texted me before and said you had something you wanted to tell me?”

Rea lity tracked me down then.

My eyes widened. “Fuck. I did.And… oh my God, I don’t even know how to say this.”

Those doh eyes narrowed on me. “Good?”

I shook my head, turning to faceher. “Better than good.”

Her free hand flailed, and her smilebeamed.And something about how happy she was for me undid me for a moment.

I breathed in, ignoring the crowds gathering around us as I looked at her, my smile barely contained. “I may or may not have a meeting with a Quebec Knights scout next week.”

Her face breezed through all thehappy emotions I was too preoccupied to name. She was all I could look at, as her smile widened along with her eyes, letting me count each and every shade of brown that lived in them.

“You’re kidding. Tell me you’rekidding!” She squealed the words, coming towards me and gripping my arm.

I didn’t hold back on my laugh. “Actually I was kidding. I tookyour manifesting advice seriously so I’m just trying to speak it into existence. I think your reaction is definitely going to help the universe put it in motion now—” Before I could even take a breath, her coffee was on the floor and her arms wrapped around me.

“Finn Rhodes, do you know howproud I am of you?” She said as she squeezed me, her face resting on my shoulder.

If there was ever a moment where Ineeded time to stop it would be now. And if there were ever a moment I’d want to preserve, never forgetting a single second, I’d be a fool to not choose this one.

Tha t fresh pastry smell was all overher, keeping me grounded in the moment. Making me forget the doubts that had crept into my mind just then.Her breaths were tickling my ear, in a way that felt like tiny whispers that I’d spend forever trying to make out. Her body was perfectly moulded against mine, as though were were two parts of the same star that had exploded when we crossed paths.

And for a moment I let myselfwonder how I could ever be scared ofsomething that felt so safe?

She pulled back too soon, herarms sliding down mine until her warm gaze was fixed on me. “When’s the meeting?”

I didn’t react, not with my faceanyway. This was the only part of this meeting that I hated. The part that had me nearly backing out of it when I ran back into Burton’s office to ask when all this was happening.

I swallowed, guilt twisting in mystomach as I braved her stare. “November 2nd.”

Translation: the day of herregionals competition.

I watched the light drain from hereyes, only for a second, before the signal switched to walk and the crowds pushed us. But still, I saw those shields go up, and before I knew it her smile turned from genuine to forced. “Oh.”She mumbled as we began to walk, her eyes falling back ahead of her.

We hadn’t actually spoken aboutme coming to the competition, but then again, I didn’t think we had to. I was there for her recital, and I wanted to be there for every competition she skated in. Missing the chance to watch her skate was heartbreaking, because she was so damn good.

I shook my head, reaching for her as we made it to the other side. “I know, and if this wasn’t theKnights, I’d be at that rink at 6 am to be sure that we had the best seat to watch you. I’d be driving you myself just so I know you got there safe. But…”

She shook her head. “No, are you kidding? This isyour dream, Finn. You’ve helped me chase mine and now it’s your turn.” Her arms shook me, as her smile grew.

This one was genuine. I could always tell the difference.

“This is your shot.”

Without thinking I let my handgraze her arm, before sliding down and lacing her hand in mine. I don’t know when we decided that it was okay to be this close to one another, when we openly cared for one another even though the whole world was watching, but I wasn’t about to fight it. This felt right.

She felt right.

She smiled up at me, our bodies still frozen on the sidewalk, and as though my thoughts were tattooed across my forehead, her lips glided open. “Is it just me who finds this odd sometimes?”

“What?” I asked, letting our hands dangle byeach other.

“This. Us.” I looked down at her,watching her brows knit as she looked back up to me. “I can’t remember when it happened exactly but somewhere between saving me from Ryan and now we suddenly hug in the middle of the street like we didn’t ever…”

I could see the words written acrossher face. Dancing in the space between her parted lips.

Hate each other.

“ Well technically you hugged me,so…” I could see her fighting a smile, but I didn’t know whether it was down to what I’d said, or the fact our hands kept brushing in the breeze.“And I told you at the start of the year; I wanted to make things right. I wanted to be better.” I had to stop talking before everything came out. And the middle of the street wans’t the place to have that conversation. So I cleared my throat. “What’s changed for you?”

She shrugged, her gaze shifting infront of her as our cold fingertips brushed again. “I think I realised that being happy was more important than holding onto a memory that made me anything but. And even though I could have very well gotten hurt again, I thought it was better than being sad for another year.”

Even with the people barging pastus, and the chaos that existed outside of our bubble, I didn’t take my eyes off her. Her confession gave me the strength to let some of that truth shine through. And to be honest, I didn’t think I could wait another second before admitting, “And I think I realised what I’d be losing if I didn’t try to win you back.”

She didn’t say anything. Justlooked at me, her eyes darting between mine, as though she was looking for the punchline.

Our knuckles grazed this time.

I carried on, clearing my throat. “Idon’t think I was ready last year. I was nervous and scared and it sounds ridiculous but I was.”

Her head shook softly. The backsof our hands met. “It doesn’t soundridiculous. It sounds honest.”

I s miled down at her. Our palmslingered. “But so many things have changed then.”

“Like?” Our fingers hooked.

I couldn’t pin down my smile if Itried. “Like the way I see you.”

And just like that, I took a breathand locked our hands.

Finally .

“I don’t look at you and see thethings that could go wrong if I give into every burning feeling I feel when I’m in the same room as you. I don’t want to put my shields up because keeping you out is harder than trying to stop a flood with nothing but a napkin. It’s getting easier to admit that I want this, and I know I’m still coming to terms with it in my head but not admitting it to myself, to you, has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

I took her other hand. “And I’m sorry. For not saying anything to you last year. Saying nothing back then was easier than admitting that I liked you.”

Her eyes widened, as I watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “You…” She choked the word,her eyes not slipping from mine. “You liked me?”

I like you. God, I like you, Aurora. So muchthat it aches, so much that like doesn’t even come close to what I feel when I look at you. Saying it feels wrong—like I’m trying to shove something infinite into a word too small to hold it. Saying I like you feels like I’m lying to myself. And I’m so damn tired of lying to myself.

Because the truth is, I've spent so long pretending that this feeling wasn’t there, pretending that I could live being ignorant to it. Pushing it down, pushing you away. But it never left. Not for a second. It’s in every breath, every thought, every moment I spend trying not to want you. And I do—I want you. In a way that terrifies me. In a way that never stops, even when I try to convince myself it has.

And now, standing here, looking at you, knowing I hurt you—I don’t know if I have the right to say any of this. But if I don’t, I might lose the chance forever. So here it is:

I like you. I love you. And I am so sick of pretending otherwise.

But before I could get the wordsout, before I so much as brushed my thumb over the back of her hand and gave into every burning desire to tug her close enough to kiss her, the world turned to chaos.

The screech of tyres tore throughthe air, followed by a blaring horn. I barely had time to turn my head before it happened. Before white headlights blinded me.The car wasn’t speeding, but it wasfast. Fast enough that the driver’s panicked swerve to avoid the slick curb sent the vehicle lurching toward the sidewalk.

Toward Rory.

Her name came roaring out of mythroat so loud it hurt, and my hand flew out to grab her. But the timing was wrong—everything was wrong.

The car’s bumper clipped her side,sending her sprawling to the sidewalk with a sickening thud and a shriek. My heart stopped as she hit the ground, her body rolling awkwardly before coming to a halt. I didn’t even think. My heart waslodged in my throat. I was on the ground beside her in seconds, my hands hovering over her like I didn’t know where to start.

“Rory?” My voice cracked, fearclawing its way out of my throat.

She groaned, her eyes squeezingshut as she clutched her arm. “I’m okay,” she groaned, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think… I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” I snapped, myhands trembling as I scanned her for injuries.

There was a scrape on herforehead, a tiny stream of deep red trailing down the side of her face, rolling over the blush that still lived on her cheek. Her arm was bent at an awkward angle, and blood seeped through a tear in her jeans. My pulse was a death march in my ears, drowning out everything but her quiet, laboured breaths.

I lifted my head for a moment,scanning the gathered crowd for who did this.The driver—a middle-aged manwho looked as pale as a ghost—jumped out of the car, his hands raised in panic. “The brakes—they didn’t—I-I didn’t see her–”

“Do something fucking useful andcall an ambulance!” I barked, cutting him off. He fumbled for his phone, muttering apologies that I barely heard.

“I don’t need an ambulance,” Rorymurmured, her good hand reaching out to grab mine as she sat up.

I held it like it was the only thingtethering me to reality. The only thingkeeping me from sinking. “You don’t know that.” The words sobbed out of me.I dragged my gaze up and downher body, anything to keep me out of my head.

It was happening. My worstnightmare was happening.

I shook my head. “You’re going tobe fine, okay?” I squeezed her hand. “You’re fine. You’ll be fine.”

I didn't know if I was trying to convince her or myself.

Her steady eyes held mine, worrylaced in her brow. “Finn, you’re freaking out.”

“Of course, I’m freaking out!” Thewords exploded out of me, quiet and sharp. “You just got hit by a car, Rory. I think I’m allowed to freak out!”

Her fingers tightened around mine,grounding me in a way I didn’t want to forget. “I’m not dead, Finn. It’s a scrape. I just need to get up.” she whispered.

The tears burning in the corners ofmy eyes betrayed just how close I’d come to losing it completely.

When the ambulance finallyarrived, I stayed by her side, refusing to let go of her hand even as they loaded her onto the stretcher. My grip tightened every time her eyelids fluttered, like holding on to her hand was the only thing tethering her to me.

But when the ambulance started tomove and she finally closed her eyes, Ibroke. Silent sobs wracked my chest as I clung to the edge of the seat, trying to keep myself from unravelling entirely.

I a lways hated how hospitals madethe world feel blue. A cold, soul destroying blue that made every last bit of hope inside you feel worthless. Lifeless.

I lifted my head from my hands,the chair beneath me starting to feel like it was attached to me, as I looked at her.

Her shallow rise and fall of her chest was mylifeline. Each steady breath told me she was still here, just sleeping. But no matter how tightly I clung to that sound, something dark was dragging me under.

I knew the feeling too well. It wasthe same icy weight that had swallowed my dad whole, drowning him in grief after my mom was gone. It was the same oblivion I’d sworn I’d never fall into. And now, here I was, staring into its black depths, feeling its pull.

The image of her lying crumpledon the pavement wouldn’t leave my head. Blood streaked across her jeans. The sickening screech of tyres still ringing in my ears. I couldn’t stop seeing it.

Jesse’s voice echoed in my head, ascalm and confident as it had been when he said it. “You’re not your dad, Finn. You can’t live your life avoiding everything just because you’re afraid of what might happen.”

But Jess hadn’t been there. Hehadn’t seen Rory get hit, hadn’t felt the gut-wrenching terror that I’d felt as I watched her bleed. He didn’t know what it was like to sit here, helpless, with nothing but her breathing keeping the world from collapsing.

And if she’d gone…

I r aked my hands through my hair,tugging at the roots, my eyes squeezing closed. But it wasn’t enough to keep the thoughts at bay.

Jesse was wrong.

He had to be.

Because if I let myself loveRory—really let myself fall for her more than I already had—then what would happen if I lost her?

The fear wrapped around my chestlike a vice. The same fear I’d seen in my Dad after Mom.

I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’tlet myself become him.

But then, my eyes drifted to herface. Even battered and bruised, she was still Rory—still the girl who made me laugh when I didn’t think I could, who made me feel lighter just by being near her. Who hugged me, held onto me, like she didn't hate me two months ago.

And I knew, in the deepest part ofme, that I loved her. It wasn’t just a crush. It wasn’t just liking her. It was love, the kind that scared me to death because of how much it mattered.

And maybe that was the problem.

Loving her was dangerous. If I ever lost her, it would destroy me.The tears prickling at my eyes again were proof of that.

I stood up abruptly, my chest tightening like I couldn’t breathe. I needed to getout of here, needed to think, needed… something.

Jesse was wrong.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t risk it.

I glanced at Rory one last time, herpeaceful face so at odds with the storm inside me. Then I turned and walked out of the ro om, every step feeling like I was leaving something vital behind .