Fatal Trust

Epilogue

17 years later

The creases in the paper have become more prominent over the years. And a few of the words have faded, but the message is engraved into my head. I never moved on. The memories of that week still haunt my sleep.

I fell to pieces and picked myself up again, then I shattered and had to get help to piece together my life again. I got my GED in England while I was in rehab. After escaping and reading the letter he left I couldn't pick myself up enough to even fake that I was okay. So I put myself through rehab with my college funds and then got a job at a local diner to pay for my online college  courses. I plan to become a therapist to help teenagers who are like I was.

My father died in his sleep two years after that week. I couldn't even find it in me to care at that point, and I haven't seen my mother since the funeral. I could see the shame in her eyes when she saw me there. She looked at me like she couldn't believe she had raised such a train wreck of a daughter, not that she actually raised me or anything. I didn't want to attend the funeral but my therapist forced me to, she even paid for my plane ticket. I could exactly say no, since you can't return plane tickets easily.

Jake grew up and became the brother I should've had all along. We meet up for coffee, at the little cafe down the street from my apartment, twice a month. He calls almost daily to make sure I am okay. He has a girl friend now and she is super sweet. She has long black hair and gray, semi-asian eyes. He wants to propose but I told him to wait a little bit longer just in case she isn't the one. However, I have a feeling he bought the ring anyway.

Nelli and Alaina are still my best friends. We have a girls night once a month. Most of the time we go to the movies or some restaurant for sushi, but occasionally we go to a club just to have some fun. And also Nelli and Alaina like to pick up guys. I pretty much just sit there with my water and dance to the occasional song.

Logan... well he left. I haven't seen him since that week. He was there that first night back home but he didn't stay until morning. He was gone before dawn and left me a note. The same note I read every morning when I wake up. The note that made me buy calenders just so I could count down the days until I could see him again. He told me, in the note, to meet him in seventeen years, from that day, at the park we had our very first date at. I can only hope he rememered, since today is that day.

I walk down the street and come to the entrance of the park. Years ago it was beautifully cliché. The paint was perfect and the grounds keeping was kept in shape. There were shiny slides and a round-about. Now all that remains is a rusted set of swings with weeds growing up the sides and along the ground, and a lone tree. The same tree was sat under on our very first date. Back then it was rather small and provided little shade, now though it would be the perfect picnic tree.

I walk over to it and run my fingers over the carving we made on our two year anniversary, six days before the event with my mirror. I smile softly. In a way that awful event saved me. As much as I hate it, I can't help but feel a little bit of gratitude for it showing me just how broken I really was.

Then I sit down and put my ear buds in. I play Taylor Swift and close my eyes as I start humming along. I lean my head back against the tree and loose myself to the memories of the summer I met Logan.

I was sitting at a table at the bakery, enjoying my strawberry tart. Nelli had insisted on eating strawberry tarts in honor of Maxon Schreve's engagement to America Singer (my book nerd of a friend was obsessed, at the time, with The Selection  series by Kiera Cass). And the couple at the table next to us had just gotten up and left. The busboy came out and the second I saw his face the only thing  I could think of was the phrase eye candy. The busboy had a chisled jaw, light brown hair with that spiked up look going on, and the most gorgeous hazel eyes I had ever seen.

His eyes met mine and I looked away, embarrassed. He noticed though, and decided to take advantage of the moment. He finished cleaning that table and then went back inside. He came back out moments later and pulled a chair up to our table. He turned it around backwards and totally pulled off the bad boy look. Until he started talking then he seemed...sweet. I fell for the act and gave him my number before leaving.

I spent the next several weeks waiting for him to call me or just simply text me. Just send me some sort of sign that he was still alive and thinking about me. When he finally did send me a text I completely freaked out and sent the most awful responds  ever. I completely skipped the whole hello and flirting and cut straight to the chase.

Surprisingly he agreed to go on a date with me. One date became two and then three months passed and we became a thing. Then roughly two years later I found him in my mirror. We escaped and he left before dawn. Leaving me with only a note that read:

Pen,
As I sit here watching you sleep, I realize that I can't stand by and simply watch you. I need to hold you in my arms and fall asleep inhaling your scent and listening to you breathe. I am in love with you. So much so that I can never let you go, ever. Also I love you enough to see how much I broke you. I can't hurt you anymore. But I want to be the one to fix you, and put you back together again. However, I know that you have to do that on your own. And I know that me being here will prevent that from happening. Or at least prolong the process. I need to step back. I have to leave before you wake up because if I don't I won't ever leave. I need to leave. I don't want to, but it is my duty so I must. I am sorry for ending it this way but I this is the easiest way for both of us. Just know that I love you forever and always. And if you feel the same way in seventeen years, from today, meet me at the place of our first ever date.
                                                                                               With much love,
                                                                                                         Logan

I open my eyes and return to the present. I look over to my left and see a guy walking towards me. He is wearing a black hoodie with the hood drawn so I can't see his face. His hands are in the pockets of his blue jeans. Could it be him? After all these years could he still feel the same way?

He comes to a stop in front of me. I stand up and remove my ear buds. I place my phone inside my purse. The guy removes his hood. His looks different from the way I remember him, except for his eyes. His eyes never changed.

" Logan, " I breathe.

" Penelope," he whispers. We both stand there is silence simply looking at each other.

" Long time no see, eh? " I say.

" Yeah, and you look beautiful as ever, " he says. I blush and look at the ground as I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

" Thanks, " I mutter.

" So...uh... What's new? " he asks.

" A lot happens in seventeen years, " I respond.

" I bet, " he says. He rubs his hand along the back of his neck. "Penelope, do you think I could have another chance? " he asks. I nod.

" You've had it since the night you left, " I tell him. He smiles sadly and I can see the regret I his eyes.

" What do you say to coffee and scones to catch up? " he asks. I don't even hesitate slightly to respond.

" Absolutely, " I say. He smiles and offers me his arm. I take it and it feels...natural.