❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Still completely oblivious to the watching eyes, Shane and Isabella continued on with their midnight conversation. Even though they had only recently been strangers, words came so easily between them that it was as if they were old friends. Each character had been keeping something tucked inside them, and they were finally feeling the relief as the tides just washed right out of them.
"Do you ever...do you ever regret not telling her that you loved her?" Isabella asked with a tone of curiosity. By now, she had heard enough of Shane's story to understand how much she had meant to him.
"All the time," Shane said sadly, kicking the beer bottle away from him with the heel of his foot. The bottle made a scraping sound as it rolled off the tile and onto the grass. "But, I think maybe she already knew because, somehow, I knew that she loved me back. There were never any spoken words but it...it was just a gut feeling. I just knew. Somehow."
And Isabella knew too. Somehow. That her feelings for Elliot were more than just platonic. And, maybe, maybe she could feel that he saw her the same way. Maybe all the insecurities holding them were pointless. A waste. Every unspoken word time they could have spent together. Or...at least then she would know. For certain. And she wouldn't have to keep second-guessing herself.
As if reading her mind, Shane wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulders and gave her a small smile. "If you feel something for Elliot. Tell him. Don't make the same mistake I did."
