Nicholas Grey Must Not Die | ✓

3 | Late

"I'll do anything you say if you say it with your hands. And I'd be smart to walk away, but you're quicksand. This slope is treacherous. This path is reckless"

~ Treacherous (Red)

(THE WORD RAPE IS MENTIONED ONCE IN THIS CHAPTER, BUT NO DETAILS ARE USED AND NO DESCRIPTIONS ARE WRITTEN)

I sat in my car before Nicholas's home. Memories of the past flooded my mind, reminding me of how close he and I used to be. Back then, I lived in the house right next to his and I remember how we'd have so many sleepovers and late night conversations. My heart ached as I stared at the two-story house that used to be yellow; my dad had painted it so because it was my mom's favorite color. Now it was a pale green, which made me realize that it was no longer the house I used to call home. It belonged to someone else. As did Nicholas and his heart. 

I let out a pained sigh, turning to look at Nicholas's home. I was three hours late. I had promised him I would be here at noon. It was now 3:04 PM. I'd broken a promise. 

I let out another sigh. An eye for an eye, I guess. It took me three hours to have a full-on debate and to come to the conclusion that I should hear what he has to say. 

Deciding that it was time to go in and face him, I grabbed my phone and jumped out of my car. There was only a dark green Jeep in the driveway, so I assumed only he was home. To be honest, that made me glad; I didn't want to face his parents and their a million and one questions about my life.

I rang the doorbell once. My heart thumped in my chest violently as if trying to escape what I was about to face.

The door opened to a disgruntled Nicholas. He looked frightened, his eyes drowned in a sea of uncertainty and turmoil. His lips had formed a tight line that openly communicated his frustration. Staring at him, I felt like I was the last person he wanted to see today.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. "Hey," I forced out along with a small greeting smile.

When he kept staring as though he was seeing right through me, my lips quivered. "I can leave," I offered, my voice a whisper; I couldn't trust the stability of my voice, "This was a mistake."

I turned to leave, my fingers weaving through my hair. 

"Iris, hold on," Nicholas called out, stopping me in my tracks. He sounded defeated. 

My eyes slowly found his. "This isn't something we should force, Nick. You obviously look like you have something serious going on. You should deal with whatever it is alone."

The uttermost broken look crossed his eyes. My heart faltered at the sight, my subconscious scolding me for speaking so harshly. He gave me a short shake of his head. "You really don't care about me anymore, huh?"

If it weren't for my sympathetic subconscious, I would've given him the sarcastic laugh that sat at the tip of my tongue. "What makes you say that?"

"You used to be so attentive. If something was slightly off, you would batter me until I came out with it. You would always help me resolve whatever I was having trouble with. And now, you can't wait to get away," he spoke sadly, his hand rubbing his few-days-old beard in a soft manner. 

I crossed my arms as a protective barrier, trying to stop his words from drawing me to him. "I'm still attentive, Nick, just not to you, not anymore."

Tears welled in his eyes as he listened to me speak. He sniffed and looked away from me, seeming to almost will his tears not to fall. Something other than my presence was bothering him. Those tears were not a result of my harshness but something worse. 

In all honesty, he was wrong and I was lying. I did care. I did notice the dark cloud over his eyes. I wanted to ask him about it, to talk it through with him as we used to, but he'd pushed me out of his life. I was no longer responsible for caring about his problems. He'd made that clear.

"I'm not trying to be cruel, but you have to understand where I'm coming from. This is our third time talking in three years. You up and walked out of my life without any explanation. Did you really expect me to still care for you as I did back then?" I asked, taking a step closer. My voice was harsh, direct. My body, however, was mush. It wanted to go to him, to engulf him in the tightest hug, to let him know that all will be okay. My mind agreed with the tone of my voice. My heart sided with my body. Victory went to my mind.

When he looked back at me, my heart actually shattered. He looked so sad like his life was falling apart before his eyes. "You know what, you're right. I don't deserve a second chance from you," he said, his voice trembling as if he was on the verge of breaking down, "you should go. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

My breathing became labored, a fog infecting my mind. My heart took the opportunity then to take driver's seat, pushing me to step forward to stop the door from closing. "Is something wrong?"

He let out a bitter laugh, failing to catch my eyes. "You don't care, remember?"

Disregarding his comment, I pushed past the door into his house, ignoring a million memories that overwhelmed my thoughts. His eyes widened as I closed the door behind me. "I never said I didn't care. I will always care about you, Nick. Now tell me what's wrong." I spoke in the softest manner, trying to coax him to talk.

His eyebrows furrowed and he took a step back in confusion. "How can you still care about me after all I've done?"

My eyes fell to examine the extra space he'd put between us before looking up at him. The words slipped out before I could examine them. "Love works in crazy ways."

When my words dawned in, he began shaking his head rapidly, stumbling backward a few steps. He seemed troubled, confused, and angry all at the same time. His hand reached to cover his mouth, the vexation he felt radiating into his aura. "No, Iris, no. You not supposed to love me after all of that. You're supposed to hate me. You're not supposed to be here, trying to comfort me. You're not supposed to be here, ready to listen to what I have to say about three years ago. You're supposed to be living a better life, happy somewhere else. You're not supposed to love me. You can't love me."

I blinked, stunned. "Nicholas."

He shook his head once more. "No, you don't understand, Iris."

In an objection, I took fast strides towards his direction, seizing his head between my hands before he could move away. My eyes forcefully caught his, finding a way to look past his tears at his weakened state of mind. My lips stunned even me as they spoke with such a brilliant confidence. "Nicholas, you do not get to determine what I do with my love. Like I said, I will always love you. You were once my best friend, the only boy who had a place in my heart. 

"You did hurt me. You caused me pain I still feel today. You caused me a loss I still haven't regained. But I love you nonetheless. I'm not forgiving you for something you haven't asked forgiveness, nor am I welcoming myself into your life and you into mine. I'm merely worried that you are not alright. If you've forgotten, I came here at your request to hear your reasons for what happened all those years ago. Now that I'm here, though, I can see clearly that you are not well, mentally, anyway. I will not pressure you, but I would like it if you would tell me what's wrong. Seeing you unwell still pains me, regardless of where our relationship stands."

His tears fell against my hands and I tried to catch them as fast as they came. He grabbed both my forearms in the softest fashion, willing me to understand his agony. "I don't think you want to hear this."

"Try me."

He inhaled a large breath, almost forcing himself to say the words. "I'm being accused of rape."

===

  [To clear up any confusion that may occur, the scene in the prologue took place this afternoon before Iris went to Nicholas's home]  

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