26. Listen

26

Listen

Deacon

I'm currently slumped on the couch, pretending to watch TV when really, I'm wallowing about my life and finding new combinations of words to express how much I hate myself. I'm deep in this latest session of self-loathing when Lola quietly enters the apartment.

"Hey. I'm home."

"Hey," I say simply.

"I saw Alice today," she continues, her voice softer than usual. She doesn't even dare to look at me. "She's sad, really sad."

The lump that has taken residence in my throat grows. Soon, I won't be able to breathe at all.

"Kind of like you," Lola adds, finally mustering the courage to meet my gaze. I can tell she feels guilty about Alice and me breaking up, but it's not her fault. It's mine alone.

"It's a shame. You belong together," she continues. "I think she loves you. Maybe—"

"Dammit, Lola!" I pound my fist on the table. "This isn't a romance novel, it's real life, with real people and real feelings."

She gulps. "I just think it's dumb that you're both suffering . . . You should talk to her."

"I can't. And even if I could, she doesn't want to talk to me." Every time I glimpse her outside the shop, I try, but she leaves before I can form a coherent word. "What we had is over. I blew it." Love never was in the cards for me anyway.

Lola shakes her head in a determined way that reminds me of Amelia. "Then make her listen. You can't just give up. "

With that, she takes her backpack and marches into her room.

My head is spinning faster than ever. Especially since she said Alice loves me. How could Lola even know that? Could she?

I get up and start pacing . I wish I was in Sycamore Springs right now so I could go for a run around the lake, clear my head. Figure this out. Figure out if there's even anything to figure out, or if it's already too late.

I'm not good for her. The thought cripples me, taking over my brain. I know that's true. But at the same time, I don't think I can live without her. It's like surviving in the dark after knowing what thriving under the sun feels like. How happy and full life can be. How warm and soft it is. Before I met Alice, I wasn't really living. I was caught in this weird limbo, passive, enduring life instead of embracing it. Then, she came into my life, and everything changed. I've never felt this way for anyone, and if there's the slightest chance she feels the same way about me, if there's any chance of saving this, I have to take it.

Then, I can spend the rest of my life making it up to her, trying to be worthy of Alice. If I've learned anything about her, it's that she has a weakness for words. Maybe if I find the right ones, I'll get through to her. I just have to make her listen .

Then, it hits me. Listening . That's the key.

Alice

Seeing my brother and his teammates get smashed against that plexiglass yesterday was kind of entertaining, but it didn't fill the gaping hole in my heart.

I'm pretty sure nothing ever will. I think I finally understand Emma. I always thought she was wrong for closing herself off to love, but she had it right all along. It's the only way to make sure you never get hurt. Maybe the "one true love" is only a thing in books and movies. Maybe true love doesn't stand a chance in real life, with all the obstacles we inevitably face. That's probably why fifty percent of marriages end up in divorce. And that doesn't even mean the other fifty percent are happy in love. Maybe they just stay married because it's easier than separating. In the end, it's all a lie. I wish I would have listened to Emma sooner.

The doorbell rings, so I step out of the back room to help Hayley. I've been pretending to work back here long enough.

I'm barely two steps into the bookstore when I stop dead in my tracks. Deacon is standing before me, looking as glorious as ever. Well, he does look tired, and he seems to have a few more wrinkles than before. But he still looks annoyingly handsome.

As I always do when I see him these days, I spin on my heel, heading straight back to the storeroom. But before I can cross the threshold, his hand catches mine.

I yank my hand away, burned by the contact. "Leave me alone, Deacon. Please," I say, refusing to look into his eyes.

"I know you don't want to talk to me, but if you ever change your mind . . ." He places an old iPod in my hand, and I forget all common sense, glancing up at him.

His eyes are pleading, full of hurt, and it only increases my own pain. I'm doing my best to fight back tears, but I don't know how long I can keep it up. "Just listen to it, please."

I swallow hard, staring at the iPod in my hand like it's a bomb about to explode. I can't get my vocal cords to work. I can't even process the fact that Deacon is here, talking to me with that uncharacteristically soft voice and eyes full of regret.

With one last look, he turns around and walks away.

Hayley hurries to my side as soon as he leaves. "What was that all about?"

"He gave me this," I say, still studying the device in my palm.

"What's on it? "

My heart is beating a million miles an hour. "I don't know. He told me to listen to it."

"Are you going to?"

When I glance up at her, I decide right then and there. "No. It won't change anything, except maybe to twist the knife in the wound."

"I don't know," she sighs, biting her lip. "He looked really sad. Maybe you should listen to it. If anything, just to have closure, you know?"

That's not what I need to hear. I need her to tell me that he's a jackass who doesn't deserve my attention. That I'm better off without him. That I should stomp on this iPod until it's as broken as my heart. Where is Emma when I need her?

"It might help mend things between you," Hayley says. "If you ask me, that looked a lot like a grand gesture."

I grimace. "An iPod? It doesn't feel like a grand gesture. It feels like an explanation, or a bunch of excuses, and I'm not sure I'm ready to hear them."

She hums in thought. "Maybe, but I know you. If you don't listen to it, it'll bug you until you do. If you really want to move on, you don't really have a choice.

I take a deep breath and close my hand around the device. She's right. I won't rest until I know what's on it. Even if it finishes me, I have to listen to whatever message it holds.