Leah Mitchell isn't the same shy, poor girl anymore. Now a college student, she is enjoying her life in the city and the freedom she longed for. She works hard and knows her worth. She has it all, but her heart aches for the only person from her pas...
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"True love will triumph in the end – which may or may not be a lie, but if it is a lie, it's the most beautiful lie we have." – John Green
Nash's bedroom is almost dark. We're lying on his bed, watching a movie. My head is tucked in the crook of his neck, and he is rubbing small circles on my back.
Now and then, he leans in and kisses my lips. They are small, innocent pecks that fill my insides with warmth. They feel safe. He feels safe.
Afraid to doze off, I sit up and rub my eyes, taking advantage of an uneventful scene in the comedy I chose after making sure I didn't watch it with Brian. I want new memories and new experiences. It's been nine months of missing him and wondering why I wasn't enough for him to stay.
I need to move on. I can't be another Grace who never forgot her first love and spent years bitter and alone.
I need to move on, but it scares me.
"What's wrong?"
I didn't realize Nash had muted the TV. He lifts his hand and runs the back of it over my cheek, peering into my eyes.
"Everything's okay," I say, smiling. "It's just that it's getting late."
Nash hugs me and kisses the top of my head. "I know, but I was hoping you'd stay."
I look up at him. "And the guys?"
"They're okay with you staying, Leah. You're my girlfriend. So?"
He deserves better. But despite feeling bad about turning him down again, I can't make myself stay. "I don't know. Maybe some other time?"
After a brief pause, Nash nods. "Come on; I'll take you home."
***
I unlock the door to my apartment and let myself in.
Taryn comes up to greet me, holding a glass of wine.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm your roommate," I say, chuckling. "I kinda live here too."
"I believe you do, but you said you had a date. Did anything happen?"
"It's late."
"It's a little after nine."
I kick off my sneakers and head for the living room. "Did you finish unpacking?" I ask, plopping on the couch.
Taryn nods and then points to the bottle on the coffee table. "Do you want some?"
"Yeah. Thank you."
She grabs another glass and fills it with wine. The glassware is hers. Annie and I didn't splurge on that in the short time we spent sharing the apartment. All we had were two glasses that didn't look nearly as expensive.
