CAM & KJG
Before I could ask about the pairing, Shay reached into her pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and started scratching at the letters.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down!” I shouted, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back, but even though she was small, she was strong. She ripped out of my hold and went back to slashing at the bark.
I grabbed her again, this time tighter, and spun her around to face away from the tree. “What the hell are you doing, Chick? You can’t be out here destroying people’s happily ever afters.”
“No, I have to. The legend says the initials mean their love will last forever, not that they will be happy, and my parents aren’t happy. They’re trapped in this messed-up loop, and I have to stop it.”
My cold heart broke for her. She was shaking repeatedly as she tried to get back to the tree, but I wouldn’t let her go. I couldn’t. She was falling apart in my grip, tears washing down her cheeks as she lost herself in me.
“This tree isn’t a gift, it’s a curse, and my mom will never be able to let go of my dad if she’s still attached to this thing. Just like my grandmother was attached to my grandfather, just like my great-grandparents. This tree is cursed. I need to get their names off it,” she cried.
“Shay,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I watched her fall apart. “Shay, listen to me. Crossing out letters on some tree isn’t going to change who your parents are.”
“But maybe it will. Maybe, maybe... maybe... maybe...” She dropped her keys and began sobbing into my arms. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I couldn’t think of how to make her feel better, so I stood there and held her.
For so long, I’d hated her because I thought she was Little Miss Perfect. I’d hated her happiness. I’d hated her because I had scars and she had none, and now I felt like a damn idiot for thinking such a thing. It turned out everyone in the worldhad scars. Everyone had cracks and cuts that bled into their soul each night. Some people were simply better at hiding them.
She pulled on my long-sleeved white T-shirt and cried against it, and I held her like I was planning on never letting her go. As she stood there in my arms, my heart melted a little for her—for her hurts, for her pain and suffering. When she was finished falling apart, she pulled away, embarrassed. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffled repeatedly, turning away from me.
“Sorry,” she muttered, wiping at her eyes. “I’m snotty and a complete mess.”
“It’s OK. I owed you for last October.”
She smiled a little. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tears were still falling from them, and she was right—she looked like a complete wreck. Broken, raw, and—
“Beautiful,” I told her. “You look beautiful.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure Shay had ever looked so beautiful and real. Her pain had the kind of beauty that made you want to protect her from the world. I wanted to hold her again, soothe her, and let her know her emotions were what made her real.
“We should get going.” She sniffled some more with her rosy cheeks and her exhausted eyes.
“Yeah, we should.”
I bent down to pick up her keys, and before handing them back over to Shay, I walked over to the tree and scratched out the rest of the initials of her parents. If said tree was a curse, I wanted to end it for her. I wanted to break the spell of jaded love that affected her family line. I wanted to free her so that somewhere down the line, she could have a real love.
She released a weighted sigh and took the keys from my hand. Her fingers brushed against my palm, and a part of mysoul I hadn’t known existed lit up. What was that? What was that feeling, and how had she unlocked it?
“Thank you, Landon,” she whispered.
“Always,” I replied.
I think I meant that.
I think I meant always.
We drove back to her cousin’s house, and as I put the car in park, I turned to say good night to her, and that was when I found her lips.
Her lips.
Pressed against...
Mine.
Her hands rested against my cheeks as she pulled me in toward her. She tasted like salty tears and peach ChapStick, and oddly enough, that was my new favorite taste. At first I didn’t kiss her back. At first I stayed frozen, thinking that if I moved, the moment would disappear and I’d never be able to return to it.
“Landon,” she whispered, her eyes closed as her forehead rested against mine. I loved that. I loved when she said my name. Not Satan. Not jerk. But Landon.
I loved when those two syllables rolled off her tongue. It made me feel seen. I didn’t know the last time someone had been able to see me so clearly.