Because I love you.

Chapter nineteen: Nowhere is safe

It takes a week for me to catch up on rest so I feel somewhat better. It is a type of relief I think I will only ever know; but of course only he can make it good. I send off some applications for universities here in England as I know that even if I start the change of mind set my mum suggested I won't be able to apply that to Jacob. Especially now I don't have him to make any new memories with; good or bad.

"Are you going to the library again?" My mum asks as I get my coat from the stand. I look back at her and smile.

"I have to find my new genre." I say. I have been on a mission since I got back; I blame my taste in books for my hurt, or at least for some of it. Either way I miss reading so I need to find something to read that won't make me love, love anymore.

"You can read romance still my love. Just remember it's just a book." She says. I smile and put on my scarf.

"You know my heart doesn't work like that." I say and squeak. My mum laughs and rolls her eyes. She used to make fun of me when I read romance books because at any sweet moment or grand romantic gesture I would squeal and if I could move I would be almost jumping around in my bed.

"Well, have fun anyway." She says. I take my keys and play my music before leaving. The library is technically just down the road but it's busy so I don't get there for about five minutes when it should take less than a minute. The library however is quiet. I smile at the woman by the desk and I walk to the new arrivals. I read most of the back covers but none attract me until I accidentally read the back cover of a romance book. I sigh and put it down, deciding to read a book about adventure. But it has romance trickled within, so I don't check it out. I put it back with a sigh.

"You sigh like you used to." I hear from my right. I look to see a man with dirty blonde hair and dark green eyes looking at me. I take a step back and stare. He has grown a lot, his stubble has thickened but it's shaved off. He is so tall now. I sit down and he looks at me, waiting for a reply.

"What are you doing?" I whisper.

"I work at the med clinic next door, I saw you come in." He says.

"I mean, what are you doing talking to me?" I ask. "Why would you think it would be okay?" I add. Anger and hurt boils up in my stomach but I suppress it, I respect the library too much.

"It's been a while, I thought we could talk." He says nervously.

"No." I say simply, shaking my head. "You don't deserve it. Hell I hardly think you deserve to breathe." I spit.

"I agree." He says. "I know it won't change anything but I have spent these years awake at night thinking about what I did; talking to a therapist about it. I seriously messed up." He says.

"I don't care Evan." I say with a slight shrug. "Those nights you spent awake thinking about me, I spent awake vomiting because of my chemo. You spoke to a therapist; I spoke to a grief counsellor because for a while they thought I was going to die. And now you talk to me here, in this place where you know I feel safe and you ruin it because now I'll come here and think of you. So no thank you, I don't want to talk." I say standing and walking out of the library. The pavement has cleared since I came so I walk briskly but soon his hand takes my forearm. I growl as I rip my arm out of his hand.

"You forgot this. I know how much your music means to you." Evan says, holding my phone in his hand with my earphones wrapped neatly around it.

"Okay." I say, not wanting to say thank you. I take the phone and I almost run home. Nowhere is safe anymore.