𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

Chapter 73

— Chapter 73 —
Secrets Worth Dying For

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E L L I O T

I stopped believing in love a long time ago.

Love was an illusion for the hopeless; more trouble than it was worth. A parasite that latched onto naive people, sometimes the wrong people, and tightened its crushing grip until the only way out was to break—until freedom itself required self-destruction. Nobody who'd ever found love left it feeling whole.

I stopped believing in love because I wasn't whole anymore. I couldn't lose any more of myself to another heartbreak. I had nothing left to give.

Falling in love was my worst nightmare.

But... Noah.

Oh, he made it so tempting. Love from his lips sounded like a vivid dream. Like fresh mugs of warm tea. Like winter mornings spent tangled together in plush blankets. Simple. Weightless. Like healing wounds, or a breath of fresh air. With him, I could breathe. And it made me wonder exactly when I'd let myself become so suffocated.

He made the pain sound worth it.

"Hey, are you still with me?" asked a voice, cutting into my daydream.

My attention flicked back to my surroundings, like changing channels on a TV. James and I were sitting across from each other at a table in the hospital cafeteria. He had a half-empty iced americano in his grasp and a set of black headphones hanging around his neck.

The two of us had spent the morning together. Mostly because I'd asked him to give me a ride back to the apartment, eager to pick up a fresh change of clothes for myself and Noah. We stopped for takeaway on our way back. Noah hadn't eaten anything yet, and I'd spent the last few days listening to Chains complain through the door about the same old tomato soup he'd been fed for the third time this week.

I figured that the least he deserved was some good (albeit unhealthy) fast food. But the nurses were busy moving him to another room, so we had no choice but to wait in the cafeteria until Noah texted me with the all-clear.

"Sorry," I mumbled to James. "What were you saying?"

He sighed and set down his drink.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" He'd asked me that three times this morning. I'd counted. "You lived through something most people don't often go through. I... I'm here to listen to you, if you want to talk about it."

My head shook. "I'm fine. Really. Just a little tired."

Besides, I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. James never was one to know what to say in terms of making people feel better. It just made him awkward.

"Well, my offer still stands," he promised. "I know you want to be there for your friends, but I'm happy to offer you the spare bed in my loft until this all blows over. Especially if it means you get a good night's sleep."

I'm tired for different reasons. But I didn't say that out loud, as the memories of Noah's confession from the night before wormed their way back into my head.

Until Noah, nobody had ever uttered my name with so much devotion. I'd spent the last night trying to burn his voice, with every syllable and every subtle intonation, into my memory. Because I forgot a lot of things—but I never wanted to forget how divine he made those words sound.

I love you, Elliot Taylor.

"You're daydreaming again."

I sat up straight in my chair. "Sorry." He gave me an uncertain look, but I nodded to the laptop between us and spoke again before he could lecture me. "What are you working on?"