Page 64 of The Secret Of Us

Her solution is simple enough, but then the guilt comes with which one I’d pick first. Would they see it as me taking sides by wanting to spend time with the other before them? During the summer, it wasn’t much of an issue. Before I ran away to Korea, they decided how our time would be split. But I haven’t asked either of them if that’s how they still want to do it.

“I’ll think about it,” I tell her. “What about you?”

We reach her room and I open the door for her, entering first to hold it open. I put her bag on her desk, pulling out the chair so she can sit comfortably. Izzy takes her seat, and I grab her crutches to lean them against the wall. Then, I sit on the edge of her desk, like I’ve done every day this week.

We fell into this routine quickly, and it’s become my favourite part of the day. I watch as Izzy takes her hair out of the braid she’s had it in all day, her fingers running through the golden strands in a way I want to replicate.

“I’m going home. My brother’s proposing to his girlfriend next week, and I’m helping him out with it.” She’s got a huge smile on her face, clearly excited to talk about it.

“Oh, really?” I ask. I’ll listen to her talk about it all day if it keeps her smiling like that.

“He’s got it all planned out. I have to take her to the cinema and he’s going to be waiting there with a movie he’s made for her.” The glee in her voice is adorable.

“He makes movies? That’s pretty cool.” I cross one ankle over the other, getting more comfortable on the desk.

“Isaac studied animation at university. He made a movie when they were seventeen of their whole relationship until then, so he’s added to it for this.”

What a lucky guy, I think. To have had enough of a relationship with the girl he was with at seventeen to make a movie of it. To have that same girl still in his life years later.

“That’s really sweet,” I say, as I try not to insert myself in that same position. I’m getting way ahead of myself for thinking of Izzy like that—thinking of a future with her.

“They’re sickeningly in love, it’s gross.” She rolls her eyes as she says it, but I can tell she doesn’t really mean it by the way her lips quirk up at the ends.

“When did they meet?” I like hearing about her family. I’m curious to know as much as I can about her.

“They both went to Coates, too. Remember I said they’ve got that written in the stars thing going on?” she asks.

I nod, thinking back to that walk on the field where this whole thing started and my life changed.

“They met on the first day of school,” she continues. “They were in the same class, found out they had the same birthday, and the rest is history.”

Izzy sighs, her mood shifting in an instant. She drops her head, and I do the same, watching the way she plays with her hands folded in her lap. I reach out tentatively, nudging her chin up gently so I can see her face. She tips her head to the side slightly, staring down at the ground now instead, but she doesn’t move my hand off her face.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper. She was just so happy. I want to know what made her sad.

“Sometimes, I think...” She sighs again, battling with whatever words she wants to say.

I move my hand so I’m cupping her cheek and run my thumb across it. I don’t rush her for an answer. I just wait for her to get out of her head and come back to me.

“I don’t think I was ever meant to fall in love like my brother did. He met his person when he was eleven. Isn’t that crazy?”

She finally looks at me, and there’s a shine in her eyes that I try my best to ignore.

“You’re only seventeen. There’s so much time left,” I tell her as she leans into my palm for a second.

I want her to take comfort in me, to lean on me. But when our eyes meet, she gently pulls my hand away from her, placing it on the desk between us instead.

“I just don’t think it’s meant for me,” she confesses.

Her voice falters on the last word, and she looks back down at her lap. I catch the quiver of her chin as she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth.

For the first time, I’m glad she’s not looking at me, because it makes my next words easier.

“I do,” I tell her, my voice quiet as I try to fight back my own feelings. “I believe one day you’re going to meet a guy who sweeps you off your feet, gives you everything you deserve, and more.”

And the fact that it won’t be me, kills me.

Izzy doesn’t say anything. I watch as she joins her hands together, soothing herself the way I should be doing, the way I wish I could. But that’s not my place.

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