21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Nolan — Now

I made you lose everything.

Those words haunted me, rang through my mind with memories of the past as I paced the hallway outside Indy’s apartment, wishing I hadn’t panicked and left. I’d regretted it as soon as I closed her door behind me, but before I could fix my mistake, the door was locked and Indy was on the other side. If I’d been wiser, I wouldn’t have left at all. But when Indy admitted she’d taken on the sins of my past like some sort of martyr, I hadn’t known what to do. So I’d taken off.

It wasn’t until I was out the door that I remembered my silence had hurt Indy more than my words ever had.

Defeated, I had wandered the flashy and overwhelming busy streets, feeling like the past would always hang over me. And maybe I wanted it to. At least then I’d always carry a piece of Indy with me. A part I could hold, protect, and love forever.

But Indy was more than a memory.

She was here. Real, raw, and beautiful. She needed me right now, not some figment of the past. She was strung together with mistakes and burdens that weren’t hers to bear, and she was coming undone. Not only did everyone else blame her for my failures . . . she did as well. It was time I put a stop to that.

After swallowing my pride, I’d made a quick stop at a convenience store for reinforcements, which led me back to where I was now—outside Indy’s studio. Aware I’d wasted enough time, I raised my hand and finally knocked on her door. I hadn’t expected her to live in a penthouse; New York was expensive, and she’d barely graduated college. But she had never let money or space limit her. My chest ached just thinking about how cold and empty her home was.

A moment passed, and another, yet her door remained closed. I knocked again, this time harder, and pressed an ear to the steel door, trying to listen past the sound of car horns and music coming from outside her building. Was she still inside? She could’ve left as easily as I had. She had no reason to wait for me, much less reason to let me in—

The door opened, and I staggered a step inside, catching myself on the doorframe. Indy stared up at me, her disheveled hair framing her face. She wore an oversized T-shirt and baggy sweats, and I assumed by the one earbud in her ear, she’d been listening to something and hadn’t heard me at first.

But I knew more than anything, as I registered the exhaustion and loneliness in her rich brown eyes, she’d believed I wasn’t coming back.

“Can I come in?” It felt like the most important question of my life. More important would be her response. If she would or wouldn’t let me in. If she’d give me a chance to prove she was worth more than my mistakes.

I raised the bag in my left hand—what’d had me running through New York City at two in the morning. “I brought the good stuff: Lucky Charms and Dirty Dancing . Thought we could eat a bowl and watch your favorite movie long enough for you to convince me you don’t have a concussion and it’s safe for you to sleep.”

The corner of her mouth inched up, and I hoped by the way she eyed the Lucky Charms, she was considering it. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I’m . . .” I rolled my lips together, wanting to be honest. “I’m confused, and maybe frustrated? But not at you. I’m angry at myself for not making it clear I never blamed you.” I doubted Indy would believe me, but I had to try. “Nothing that happened was your fault. You didn’t cost me anything.”

There was doubt in her eyes, and I wanted to reach for her. To ease the guilt she’d festered in for years, but I kept my hands to myself.

“I’m sorry.” Her gaze dropped to where Genny was rubbing against her calves. “I know you wanted to make your dad proud and follow through with what he asked, but he was wrong about us. We can barely talk to each other without fighting. It’s all we’ve done the past few days.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a bad thing.”

“You think it’s good we can’t stop arguing?” Indy raised a brow, and my heart raced at even the inkling of her temper. “If anything, it shows we’d never work—”

I shook my head, stopping her. “I think it’s good we’re fighting because we never fought before.”

She snorted. “We fought plenty.”

“Oh, believe me—I haven’t forgotten.” I smirked at the sight of the blush rising beneath her collar. “But we both know that toward the end we stopped fighting in the way that mattered. We shoved everything under the rug until there was too much between us and we couldn’t find our way out.”

She didn’t give me a response, and I didn’t try to coax one out of her. We knew the truth, and we couldn’t face it until both of us were ready to acknowledge it. Only one thing scared me more than confronting the past, and it was the devastation I saw in Indy’s eyes tonight.

I’d seen it once before, and I’d do anything to never see it again.

“I think we went about this wrong.” I took a risk and let my fingers graze hers. She stiffened, but ultimately made no move to put more distance between us. We were at a standstill. “Back then, it seemed like everyone was against us. Both of us felt pressure to prove them wrong. In the end, it didn’t matter what we did—they didn’t believe in us. And the same applies now. I know I agreed to help you with your reputation, but we both know it’s pointless.” Seeing the way her shoulders dropped, I quickly clarified, “There’s nothing to fix, Indy. And even if there was, it wouldn’t matter. You could become a nun tomorrow and me a priest, and they still wouldn’t approve. So if we’re going to do this . . . if we’re going to put ourselves through hell, I’m not doing it for them. I’m not doing it for anyone else but you and me.”

I might’ve agreed to this deal for selfish reasons, foolishly believing it could give me peace with Dad and fill a void of regret. At the time, it was what I wanted most. And yes, I hoped at the end of this to buy the bar, but as Indy let out a raspy breath, there was something I wanted more. What I wanted most—and what I knew Dad would want most—was for me to help Indy find peace with herself .

She needed to know she was enough.

She was quiet as she stared up at me, and though she hadn’t uttered a word, I knew she was thinking of every reason why she should call it quits right now. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. After all, it was my fault we were here—broken and lost shells of who we used to be.

But she must’ve found one reason to stay because she fully opened the door. “I hope you’re ready to fight with me for the next month.”

I would fight with her. For her. I wasn’t the only one who felt stuck. Frozen in the past. And it was time Indy was set free. I’d give her everything I should’ve before. But it wasn’t so she wouldn’t leave me behind—it was so she finally would.