Back to Himself

9. Our Secret Garden

I take Justin's hand and allow him to pull me out of the car. For the first time, I realize where he's taken us. It's the park where we first met. I scan the area slowly as the memories come flooding back. He watches me carefully.

"If it's too much too soon we can leave," he says softly, squeezing my hand.

"No. I want to stay," I say quickly, turning to meet his eyes.

"What did you want to show me?" I ask, my brain racing.

As he opens his mouth to answer, we hear shouting from nearby.

"Justin! Justin!"

I whip my head around to see where the sound is coming from, but before I can put a face to the voice, Justin starts pulling me further into the park.

"Justin! Who is that? Is that your girlfriend? Come on—just one photo with you and the pretty lady!"

He picks up his pace and I let him drag me along, not wanting to meet whatever middle-aged weirdo was referring to me as "pretty lady."

Justin is silent as he takes us deeper into the park in the direction of our hideaway spot from when we were teenagers. I recognize the entrance immediately, it's braided with vines, just how we always left it so no one else could wander in. Has Justin been coming here by himself? He lets go of my hand to untie the vines and I glance behind us anxiously. I don't see that guy anymore. We probably lost him on the path. It's quite complicated to navigate this park if you haven't been before.

"Milan!" Justin's whisper-yell makes me snap my head around.

"Come on!"

I duck into our hideaway and after checking our surroundings briefly, he's not far behind. I watch as he shuts and secures the opening behind us and turns to look at me apologetically.

"Don't say sorry. They are in the wrong. Not you," I tell him firmly before he can speak.

Justin nods, relaxing, but he stays silent. I turn away from him to take in my surroundings again. He has definitely been coming here since we parted ways three years ago. The guitar, music sheets, our cute little fake plants (we can't be trusted with real ones), and our Polaroids are still here. I walk over to take a closer look. We look so happy. He really was my whole world. I hear footsteps behind me and feel his arms wrap around my waist. He rests his head on my shoulder.

"You're my whole world, Milan," he whispers as if reading my mind.

"Always have been. Always will be. I never stopped coming here. It was one of the few times I could feel close to you."

"What were the other times?" I ask, turning in his arms to look up at him.

"Well, there were moments when I actually was close to you. I had to keep my distance a lot of the time, but I was always watching over you. My mom too."

I give Justin a confused look. I remember Pattie mentioned looking out for me, but I didn't realize he was too.

"So it wasn't just Pattie? And what do you mean by 'I had to keep my distance a lot of the time'? Like, there were times you didn't keep your distance? Where? When? Why didn't I notice you? Why didn't you approach me?" I rattle out breathlessly as I search his eyes for the answers.

He hesitates, his hands tightening around my waist from the nerves.

"I have so much to tell you. There's so much you need to know. I just don't know where to begin."

I remove myself from his grasp.

"Start at the beginning—the day you told me you couldn't be my friend anymore."