Fragile Little Things ?

38 give in

Kade straightens. He’s not used to this. Especially from me. And he doesn’t know what to say, because he really did expect that because I was single, I was simply going to run back into his arms.

“Okay,” he says, like my reply is just part of a phase. “But if you need me, you know my number.”

I take a sip from my coffee as I meet his gaze evenly. “No, I don’t. Have a nice life, Kade.”

An embarrassed flush creeps up his neck.

Focusing back on my laptop, I don’t watch him as he moves out of the seat and back to his obnoxious friends, who laugh at him and slap his back. I have a hunch he convinces them to leave the cafe, because a few minutes later, the entire group is filtering out.

I let go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

After a few hours and two assignments done, I call it quits and walk back to the apartment, a strange feeling of contentment. Yes, I lost Kade. I lost Jem. I lost the flower shop. But somewhere along the way, I found myself.

And I’ll never ever lose myself again.

The fresh smell of blooming flowers in Spring permeates in the air and a cool breeze moves through my curls as I near my apartment.

I’m about to slide my key through the hole to let myself up but I stop. I furrow my brows, my heart skipping a beat. There’s a figure standing on the pavement directly below my window. Playing music.

My heart skips a beat.

Jem.

He looks different. Brighter, somehow. Healthier. Happier. His hair is grown out. I’m itching to run my fingers through it.

He’s playing Let Me Love You by Mario on his phone, singing up to my room, when I’m not even there.

I don’t know whether to laugh or burst into tears. My mind is on overdrive.

When he senses someone is watching him, he turns his head and meets my gaze. “Indie? Fuck.” Jem slurs. “I thought you were up there.”

He’s also drunk. I frown.

Jem glances up at me. “Hey, baby. I missed you.” His gaze washes over me. “I missed you so much.”

I let go of a breath.

“Will you listen to me? Please.”

I pause. I want to give in so bad. I want to check if he’s okay and that he has a ride to get home. But I donʼt move.

“Come to my dad’s wedding with me, Indigo Gallagher!” he yells.

What the hell? I didn’t even know they set a date. Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting. He’s drunk out of his mind.

Taking one last look at him, I walk past him. Even though I want to tell him that I missed him too. That I missed him so much that I can’t stop thinking about him.

But what the hell?! Seriously. He can’t just pitch up out of the blue after not returning all my messages and calls and leaving me behind.

He probably doesn’t even mean it. It’s the night of his twenty-first birthday. He’s drunk. Tomorrow, he’ll be gone, and he’ll go back to acting like I don’t exist.

***

HE DOESN’T STOP. If anything, it gets worse. Every time I get back from college, he’s waiting outside the apartment with a mini pot plant. He keeps trying, and his attempts get worse and worse each time.

Always singing R&B, always at the bottom of the apartments on the streets. Heʼs even there when it’s pouring outside. Sometimes I check outside to see if he’s alright but he’s there with a freaking boombox above his head.

I don’t mind spending every day, the speakers boom, out on your corner in the pouring rain.

I’m not even kidding. He’s fucking insane. I feel like the two inches of hair somehow hardwired his brain, or something.

It goes on for three whole weeks. Twenty-one days.

I never accept the pot plants, but they always end up outside our apartment. He drops it off before he leaves. So I now have a collection of mini pot plants lining up the hallway to get to the door of my apartment.

One day, I come back with Scarlett, and she picks up one of the tiny pots with a cactus in it, shaking it in my face. “Are you seriously never going to forgive him?”

I push open the door, huffing under my breath. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

She shrugs, following me into the house. “He’s trying.”

Taking the stupid pot plant from her hands and chucking it outside before slamming the door closed, I snap, “That’s too damn bad.”

He wants to talk, but I can’t do it. Because I know that if I let him talk to me, he’ll be too hard to resist. I want to give in, so badly. But I hate what he did. It’s been long enough that I can say that I won’t forgive him for it.

He should have let me in.

I was his girlfriend.

He had no right just letting go of me like that. Especially when I told him that it was delicate. When it hadn’t been that long after I broke up with Kade. It messed me up. It hurt me. And he doesn’t get to come back. He doesn’t get to decide when he wants me and when he doesn’t.

I know him enough to know that he’s stubborn enough to keep trying until I give him and speak to him.

And I’m scared that it’ll take too little for me to give in.