Broken Promises

53 | noah

The next morning, I wander around the hotel until I find Thorne sitting on the back deck, slumped in a chair, seemingly trying to block the sun from beaming down on him. This shouldn't be too hard, as the sun is mainly hidden behind some murky gray clouds. It's a bleak gray morning, the kind that usually appears the day after a storm. The air is foggy and humid, and the ocean is just as dark as the clouds. In a way, the sight is beautiful, though I can't say I prefer it over a clear day.

As I approach Thorne, he glances up at me with a pissed expression, as if I've disrupted his peace. I lower into the seat next to him, taking in his unruly dark hair and exhausted demeanor.

Raising my eyebrows, I ask, "Long night?"

Thorne merely does what Thorne does best: smirks. He adjusts the collar of his black sweatshirt and runs a hand through his rumpled hair before saying, "You could say that."

I snort as I shake my head. Thorne sits up to face me, and I notice the purple bags beneath his eyes. I wonder if he got any sleep at all last night. Sleep deprivation is not a good look on him.

"I've already had three coffees," Thorne admits after a moment, staring at his hand. "I'm trying to figure out if the caffeine has kicked in, or if my hand has always twitched like this."

I laugh, and I notice that it genuinely feels good to do so. Over the course of the past few weeks, I've been doing that more. Laughing. Smiling. Going out. Picking up healthy habits. I'm changing—seemingly for the better—and I'm not sure when or how it started. All I know is that it's nice, as if a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

"Where's Mia?" I ask.

"She's sleeping," Thorne tells me. The smirk he wears tells me all I need to know. "What about Blake? Where's your girl?"

"She's taking a shower."

Thorne shoots me a pointed look as he questions, "Sp . . . why aren't you with her right now?"

I merely roll my eyes in response.

"You know, I'm happy for you, man," he says out of the blue. "You've changed. You're getting your life together. You're doing better. That's all Mia and I ever wanted for you."

"I don't think I did it for me," I admit. I don't think I'm trying to be a better person so much for myself as I am for Blake. I want to be the kind of man she deserves. The kind of man she needs; the kind of man I need to be for her. It's in this moment that I finally fully understand what Thorne was trying to tell me that night at the party what feels like years ago now. It's funny how I've come full-circle.

"That's the funny thing about love," Thorne mumbles. "At first you don't realize you've fallen until you're already on the ground. And yet everything somehow manages to be clearer than before. Because love? It just makes everything . . . make sense."

I understand Thorne's words easily. I know that there's nothing I wouldn't do for Blake. No matter how confused I am about how I got to this point, everything still manages to point to her. I'm a better person when I'm with her—for her. She makes me happy. She taught me that life gets better. It gets easier. And through all of the confusion clouding my mind, I still manage to be sure of my feelings for Blake.

I'm in love with her.

"When you tell her," Thorne says from next to me, as if reading my mind, "try speaking from the heart, or whatever that means. Girls love that shit." With one last smirk and a pat on the shoulder, Thorne stands and wanders back into the hotel, mumbling something about needing another coffee.

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a/n: i want pizza