Chapter Eleven - Forgiving

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c h a p t e r e l e v e n

{Forgiving}

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Jayden: Can we talk?

I stare at his message. When I've had enough, I shut my phone off without replying. Talking is the last thing I want to do, especially with Jayden.

When I get home from work, I lie on the couch, not having anything important to do for once. Any other day, I would call Blake to hang out, but that's out of the question.

My eyes keep drifting to the hallway where my office is situated. I can see my computer through the cracked door, staring with beady eyes. The dark screen wordlessly scolds me for neglecting it for months. 

The sight makes me smile, and I recall the days I would come home from school yearning to write. When I'd finish a piece, I would run to my mom's room and let her read. Although the thought makes my heart hurt, its one of my favorite memories. I wish I still had the drive.

Like a moth to a flame, I'm drawn into the room. I sit down at the desk and turn on the computer. Nerves bubble through me as a blank document loads onto the screen.

My fingers hover over the keyboard, not knowing what to write or where to start. I haven't written since my mom passed away. 

I tried to keep up with it during college but couldn't. It was a constant reminder of what I had lost. Every word etched into the paper was one my mom would never hear. And Instead of feeling accomplishment after finishing a piece of work, I'd feel miserable; so I stopped.

It's been four years since I stopped writing. That's four years for me to come to terms with my mother's death. Yet there is still a gaping hole in my chest, I'm not sure how to fix it. Maybe writing can help.

Taking a deep breath, I let the creativity I've repressed for so long come forward. With my notebook beside me, I start writing down character names and plot ideas. I don't know how much time passes until I realize I have an entire book outline completed.

I center align the next two words.

Chapter One

A loud knock erupts through my apartment, causing me to jump. Slightly annoyed that I am torn away from my fictional world, I close the document and amble to the front door.

For an unknown reason, I find myself staring at the knob instead of turning it. I creep closer and stand on my tip-toes, attempting to see through the peephole I rarely use.

A pit in my stomach forms when I see Jayden standing on the other side. I stumble backward and look around my apartment as if the chair in the corner could save me. As I try to wrack my brain around what to do, my phone goes off. The ringtone blares through my apartment and I dive to stop it.

"Skylar, I know you're in there!" Jayden's voice booms through the door, causing me to panic more than I already am. "Please, can we talk?"

"Looks like your shit out of luck, asshole!"

A slight thud sounds against the wood, followed by a loud sigh. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

I scoff. "Too late."

"Please let me in, I at least want to apologize to your face."

I pinch the bridge of my nose—a nervous habit—as I try to think. I shouldn't open the door, that's the logical thing to do. But I'm known for my illogical habits. So I grab the handle, giving it a quick turn, which causes Jayden to stumble forward.

"Uh, I—" He hastily steps back in surprise.

"You've got three minutes, talk."

"Okay, I didn't realize you and Blake had problems until I spoke to him about you and I. Anyway, I didn't think he would cut things off with you."

I unclench my jaw and interrupt him. "We didn't have problems until you."

"I'm sorry." He rubs his forehead. "I never intended to hurt you and mess things up."

"Oh really? What were your intentions then, Jayden? Because the night we met, you hurt me. The night at Marlee's when you brought up the living room incident, you hurt me, maybe more-so embarrass me. Then the alleyway and now all of this..." I gesture around us. "I know you have problems, but you don't need to act like a dick."

I reach up to shut the door, but he pushes it further open and steps inside. His one hand cups my cheek while his other draws my body against his. The fight I have in me suddenly sizzles like someone pouring water over a fire. I'm taken aback.

"Skylar, I..." His thumb brushes my cheek as he struggles to get his words out. "I am bad at this. I'm not trying to justify my past behavior, but I'm just not sure how to act. I never find the right words to say."

I open my eyes to find his piercing blue eyes staring at me.

He continues. "Yeah, I have issues and I say things without thinking, and that's something I need to work on. And here I am, taking a step to make things right. I told Blake everything out of anger and didn't think about the consequences. I seem to always forget about the consequences..." His voice comes out frail. "But I didn't think I'd like you as much as I do."

My senses have blurred and I can feel my pounding heart, like a hammer on cloth. I've let my guard down even though I didn't want to and its too late to put it back up. Jayden has been the only one to make me feel this helpless, and I hate myself for letting him.

I look at his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, trying to avoid eye contact.

He buries his nose in my hair, besides my ear, and whispers, "I can't stand myself knowing I'm the one who caused you to hate me."

I step back to break from his grasp and fold my arms. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You don't have to say anything, I figured you wouldn't. I just needed to get that out."

In one swift motion, he turns around and leaves my apartment. I gape at the empty doorway, trying to process what just occurred. But I can't get a grip on my thoughts.

Was the point of him coming here to apologize for telling Blake or to admit that he likes me?

As fast as I can, I slip my shoes and jacket on and rush out the door. I sprint down the stairs and through the front doors of my apartment complex. The wintery air encompasses me, snowflakes instantly decorate my dark hair as I look around for Jayden.

I don't know what I'm doing.

"Jayden!" I shout when I see him walking in the opposite direction. He stops in his tracks to turn around. Our eyes lock and I walk toward him.

Seconds later we are merely inches apart.

"I wanted to tell you, thank you and I forgive you."

With those words lingering between us, I turn on my heel and walk the other direction without waiting for his reply. 

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QOTD: Are you currently watching a show?

Answer: Westworld and Nikita 

INSTAGRAM & TWITTER: annasteffeyy

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Thanks for reading, xoxo Anna :)

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