Alyson Cox believes in fate. So when her ex, Ethan Richardson, shows up at the diner Alyson works in after two years of elusiveness, she doubts if they are fated to be together.
However, with Alyson only being able to work for one summer before she...
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"I have to go," I say as Ethan emerges out of the bathroom.
He doesn't say anything, but then he hands me a wet towel. "Wash your face, your parents are going to question you."
It's funny how he can say the word 'parents' as if nothing has happened, but he's Ethan, always calm and tough. So I smile, mildly amused--my makeup must be all over the place now.
I enter the bathroom. After splashing my face with tap water, I stare at myself in the mirror. Droplets of water gleam on my skin.
Slowly, I tuck the corners of my lips up. Everything is going to be alright.
I walk out and follow him to the door. Just as I step out of the threshold, his voice stops me.
"Aly." He leans to the wall next to him, glancing at me. His eyes are soft. "When are you leaving?"
"Friday," I reply.
I listen to his breath and he gazes down at me for a moment or two. "Can you... come with me on Wednesday?" he asks.
I look at him, my head slightly tilting to the right.
He continues after taking a deep breath, "To the cemetery."
Something in me tugs and I nod for a few times. "I'd love to meet them again too," I say as I stare into his pair of unguarded eyes.
Ethan cracks out a small smile. "So, see you?"
"See you."
Letting my words linger in the still air, I turn around and walk into the dark, feeling his heavy gaze behind me.
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I tighten my grip around the bouquet in my hand. A line of trees appears in front of us. As we walk and cross over a few stones that were on our way, the tombstones emerge.
The cemetery is serene. The afternoon sun shines and some of the tombs reflect the glare of it, while the grass around them spreads a peaceful green.
I focus on the one yellow flower that blooms on the tree out of all the cluster of twigs. As if shimmering in the air of solemnity, I start hearing birds twittering. It's always the cycle of life, one passes, but the others live on.
I breathe in the warm air and turn to Ethan. "I'm ready." I smile.
Ethan returns a smile and guides me to his parents' grave.
I stand in front of it and read the words engraved on the stone. Rodger and Amy, their names are both printed on it.
I kneel down—a few drops of water from the flowers spill and splatter onto the grass as I lean forward—and place the bouquet onto the hard cement.
"It's weird, isn't it," Ethan quietly says after I've gotten up from the floor.
"It's not weird, it's just... I still can't believe it," I say as I continue to stare at the stone.
"Hey, Dad, Alyson is back." Ethan's voice startles me. "And I think you have changed your opinions toward her, right?"
I gape at Ethan. I'm not sure what I should feel right now, but the fact that he still thinks about me in front of his dead parents surprises me.
Before I can say anything, he sits onto the floor while pulling my hand. I get down with him as well.
Slowly, he puts his head on my shoulder. "Alyson, I—" he pauses and sighs "—thank you."
A sliver of surprise hits me. "Why are you thanking me?"
"Because," he says as he sits up and turns to me, "I was broken, and you were the one that stitched me back, Alyson."
He continues, "You have no idea how much of a girl you are, you are still here with me knowing what I had done to you before. You are still willing to be with me in these two weeks. You've changed, but you've never changed as well."
A smile escapes me, and I'm in fact, a bit touched by his words. "You've changed too."
He nods. "Two years isn't a short period of time."
I fall silent. We have changed, we have grown. I realize that even though I once knew him the best, he seems to be a new person to me this summer.
"But Aly," Ethan's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, "who will stitch you back?"
I'm not dismayed, I'm confused. All the emotions seem to collide inside me. Ethan did break me, but am I really broken now?
"Ethan, I don't know but I feel like... I feel like I'm not broken," I say.
I notice the slightest relief that dawns on his face.
"You deserve better," he says with a smile, "you will find the one."
I look at him, Ethan, my Ethan. And I realize he really has changed. He's not in the position to love me anymore, and whether he still wants to isn't important. Because the Ethan that once belonged to me is forever gone—the memory, the feeling of having him.
I smile, hoping that he knows I do know I deserve better, but I will always love my Ethan, for he was once my world.
༺═──────────────═༻
I start folding my clothes on my bed and packing them back into the hard-sided luggage. I take out my phone, realizing that I haven't taken a picture with Ethan in this summer. A smile slowly forms on my lips as I turn off my phone.
Because I don't feel the pain anymore. I don't feel the pain I once had when staring at my photo album, even though I know we most probably aren't going to take any pictures again.
I think of what he told me in the graveyard. Two years is indeed, not a short period of time.
I pace to my wardrobe and reach my hand into its furthest corner. After a while of searching, my fingers feel the rough texture of a notebook, and I take it out.
I choke out a laugh. It's my senior chemistry notebook that contains my scribblings and doodles. I stop right on that page with a single line written by Ethan with his pencil:
You look beautiful.
There is another sentence underneath it. And as I read it, my laugh becomes a tearless one.
I love you.
I keep laughing, but my tears don't seem to come out even though they are at the brims of my eyes. That was two years ago, and I recall how my heart fluttered with joy during class when he wrote that.
And so, this is the moment I know that I have never hated Ethan, that I have already forgiven him before I knew about his parents. Because we had loved each other, he was the one that made me feel ecstatic, he was the one that made my high school life beautiful.
The ecstatic feeling of falling in love is magical. But spells can always fade away, just like how even though a broken person is being stitched back together, there will still be scars.
Ethan and I will never be the same.
And I have to let go.
a/n next chapter will be the last one! thank you for reading till here, it means a lot to me.
