House of Hearts

Chapter 11

Beatrice POV

"I don't hate you, Peter." I say, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. 

I see his eyes light up with hope.

Then I brace myself to say the painful truth. As much as it hurts.

 "But I still don't trust you." 

A look of complete agony takes over his face.

"You left me, and you hurt me. You let me believe you didn't want me and didn't try to fix it for a whole year...would you still have left if..if-"

"If what?" he asks softly.

Tears start streaming down my face as I try to control my voice. 

"If-if we'd gone further...that night. Would I still have...have woken up alone?" I ask, demanding an answer with more sadness than anger. Realization flashes across his face as his eyes widen with disbelief. 

"Beatrice...I was an idiot a year ago, but even then, I would never in a million years do that to you," he says both his hands tenderly holding the sides of my neck as our foreheads touch with such sizzling intensity until I couldn't take my own indecision anymore.

I hadn't realized how long we'd been dancing and I saw my friends, my perfect friends, standing on the sidelines waiting for me. My parents sitting together at the table as my mom playfully tells my dad to use the napkin after devouring a chicken leg. I see everyone else, all the other high schoolers I've spent four years with. All of them talking and laughing about their perfectly uncomplicated futures. 

I needed time to figure out mine. And whether Peter would be in it. He had a whole year and I didn't even get a day.

"I need- I need some time," I say out of breath, pulling my arms away from him as his fingertips trace my own, mourning the loss of contact.

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The car ride back home was everything I needed it to be. All four of us crammed into my car as I drove my mildly insane and slightly tipsy friends home. 

They made drunk promises of staying in touch that I really hope we keep, and Celia cursed me out for wanting to go on a solo backpacking trip to Asia without them. I just wanted to explore new things entirely on my own, without anyone. 

Caroline started crying, which I knew had something to do with the conversation she had with Holden earlier, after which he left. Asher had already passed out and was napping in Celia's lap, obviously.

After dropping them all off and promising to make plans for my last week home, I pulled into my driveway alone. I entered the house and saw my parents were casually seated on the couch drinking coffee. 

My mom actually made fresh coffee? She always uses the cheap, instant version because it's more convenient. I guess her first-born leaving home drove her to such tragic lengths. 

"This is some of the best coffee I've had in a long time." My mom said lifting her head and nodding appreciatively. 

Before I have a chance to announce my arrival I hear a quick reply. "Thanks, its mom's recipe," Peter says smiling a mega-watt smile. 

What. The. Hell.

Shocked and shaken to my bones, I pick up the nearest thing I see; a vase of flowers.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! IS THIS SOME WEIRD STALKER TACTIC?" I ask screaming and threatening him with the vase. His eyes widen as he puts his hands up and takes slow steps away from me.

My parents spring up from the couch. "Beatrice! Put the vase down this instant! This not how I taught you to treat guests!" my mom reprimands.

"What guest?" I ask, slowly placing the vase down.

"Peter is staying with us for a week, he's doing an internship at my law firm. That's the surprise your mother wrote about on the refrigerator." my dad explains cautiously. 

"AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ME?! YOU THOUGHT IT WOULD BE OKAY IF I JUST WALKED INTO MY HOUSE AND SAW HIM MAKING COFFEE?!" I asked deliriously. Did these people want me to die of cardiac arrest?

"Well, no one expected you would react like that!" my mom answered, startled. 

After we'd all calmed down and taken a few breaths, I shot daggers with my eyes at Peter and all he did was cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

Yeah, I get it. I'm hilarious. 

He'd be here for a week. Seriously? For my last week at home? Things just got a whole lot more complicated.