Back To You

The quiet goodbye (11)

The evening air was cool, carrying a faint chill that made me wish I had a jacket, but I wasn't about to go back inside. I needed space. Space from the chaos of everything, especially Tayler.

But just as I turned the corner of the park, there he was—sitting on a bench, looking effortlessly relaxed, his hands casually resting on his lap. The moment he saw me, his lips curled into that familiar smirk, the one that always made my heart do a flip.

I stopped in my tracks, a mix of hesitation and frustration rolling in my chest. He didn't even have to speak for me to feel like I was cornered.

"Madison," Tayler said, his voice light, playful. "I thought I might catch you here."

I narrowed my eyes, not bothering to hide my annoyance. "You didn't know I'd be here," I muttered, though I wasn't quite sure why I said it. It was as if I was daring him to prove me wrong.

Tayler grinned, the edge of his lips pulling just a little higher. "Maybe not. But here you are. Fancy seeing you in my favorite park." His voice dropped a little, the teasing still there but with a new edge. "You know, you're looking kinda cute tonight."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, my heart beating just a little too fast for my liking. "Stop. I'm not in the mood."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not taking me seriously. "Oh? You sure? Because it looks like you're in the mood to argue with me, and that's kinda my thing."

I couldn't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. "Yeah, well, keep your distance. I don't have time for games."

"Games?" He stood up from the bench, his movements slow and deliberate. "I thought we were past the games, Madison." His gaze locked on mine, serious for just a moment. But it didn't last. His smirk returned. "Or are you just scared I'm better at them than you?"

I took a step back, wanting to put some space between us, but he mirrored me, moving closer. The way he stood there, like he had all the time in the world, made it impossible for me to ignore the tension between us.

"I'm not scared of anything," I said, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew they didn't sound convincing. Not when I could feel my pulse racing, my breath a little too shallow.

Tayler's eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, he seemed less playful and more... serious. "I'm not trying to scare you, Mads. I just... I just want you to hear me out, okay?"

I crossed my arms, trying to look unaffected. "I don't know what there is to hear."

He took a small step toward me, his gaze never wavering. "I get it. You're mad. But I've been thinking about that night—the steakhouse, how I acted—and I know I messed up."

I swallowed, looking away. "It's not just that, Tayler. You—" I stopped myself. Why was I even talking to him? Why was I still listening to him?

He stepped closer, the space between us shrinking with every breath. "I didn't handle it right. I should've said something, instead of walking away."

The honesty in his voice caught me off guard, but I didn't let it show. "Yeah, you should've," I muttered, unwilling to meet his eyes.

Tayler didn't say anything for a moment. Instead, he reached up and gently brushed his hand against my arm, the contact making me tense, even though I couldn't move away. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" He sounded genuine now. "But you can't keep avoiding me forever."

I turned to face him, my emotions rising in my chest. "I'm not avoiding you," I snapped, "I'm just—"

Before I could finish, he was closer, his voice dropping low again, that teasing glint back in his eyes. "Just what, Mads? Not gonna admit you miss me?"