Page 123 of The Fate Of Us

“So… what are you gonna do?”

“About?”

My sister rolled her fiery eyes. “The polar ice caps melting.” she said bluntly.

“What?—”

“About Nate!! What are you going to do about Nate?” She laughed, stomping her feetwith gleeful annoyance.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, my head falling along with the sighI let slip. “I have no idea, Gold’s.” I straighten up, palming my hands on my knees this time. “I have no idea.”

“Well you’ve got to think of something,” My sister said, turning around and headingtowards one of the windows, cracking it open and letting the breeze sneak in, before angling her head over her shoulder to face me. “You’ve got weeks of filming to endure with him, not speaking to him, ignoring the obvious is only going to make things worse.”

“Oh I don’t know,” I said as I stood to my feet, rounding the bed and distracting mytwitchy hands with one of the piles of clothes Goldie had left out, idly folding a t-shirt of hers. “Avoiding each other is what we do best.” I let a sarcastic smile possess my mouth.

Goldie let out a sigh as she joined me, standing opposite me on the other side of the bedwhere an identical pile of clothes lay. “Doesn’t mean it’s what’sbestfor you though.”

I found a rogue sock from the pile and threw it at her head. “Hey, if I’m leaving you tothe harshness of the world, then you leave me to deal with my own heartbreak.” She rolled her eyes once more, so I found the matching sock to the one I had just thrown and it met that knowing face a second later. “Nosey.”

She busied herself too, folding a pair of jean shorts and laying them flat in the suitcase.

“Well if you won’t let me meddle, maybe channel one of the many women you’ve written about… they’re brave.”

I lifted my head to meet her eyes, an effortless smile tugging at the corners of my mouthas I said, “I know real women much braver.”

Chapter thirty-three

Nate

“Thanks,”

The word barely leaves my mouth, hardly reaching the poor room service attendant, who has seen my face an ungodly amount of times over the past few days, as he wheels out the empty silver cart.

I catch his stare as he backs out into the hallway, passing me a ‘you don’t look like yourred carpet photos’ smile as he does.

The soft click of the hotel room door closing is my signal for my spine to return to thearch it seemed to have favoured existing in recently; the ache that bloomed across my shoulders not as painful as it was when I first noticed it. My hands run over my stubble and through my hair, as I walk over to the table the attendant had set up on the balcony, my breakfast sitting under silver domes that reflect that sunlight.

My bones groan as I fall into the chair below me, an actual groan forcing its way out ofme too. If the room didn’t come with an elliptical, I’d probably feel a lot worse than I did. But even with the workouts I’d forced myself to do, I still felt weak. Pathetic. And the diet of room service probably wasn’t helping with that, nor was the confinement to the room.

Ihadventured out in the days since, the day after… you know. I dared the drive to my parents house just outside of Malibu. They’d sold the house that was next to Addy’s years ago, opting for a little condo slightly more inland. And I’m glad they did.

Going back to the place where it all began seemed wrong. Like returning to the scene ofa crime to help with the clean-up, knowing you were the one responsible for the damage.

It was nice, seeing them. My whole family for that matter. They were all there, with awelcome party and roaring barbecue waiting for me to turn up.

But after I came back… I hadn’t found the motivation to leave again.

Which was why I was still wearing the white bathrobe that had been left out the first dayI got here. Why I was eating fresh fruit and slightly stale croissants for the third day in a row. Why the room seemed lifeless, almost a reflection of the man existing in it.

I couldn’t get it out of my mind— any of it. From the second my head sunk into thepillow at night, sleep tormenting me with its promise of escape to the darkness for a few hours, I couldn’t blur the image of her. Her hair was as vibrant as ever, her tears were so shiny they had a glare, and her breaths hit my face, like I’d left the balcony door open and the night air was washing over me.

Pure flames, fighting against the wind.

I couldn’t escape it. And the harder I tried to forget, and distract myself… the more Ithought about it. The more I spiralled. The more the ever-closing walls seemed like the only place I wanted to be.

But I deserved the torment. I deserved every ounce of regret and shame that was pulsingthrough me, mingling with my heartbeat, consuming what was left to feast on. I’d hurt her in ways that a girl like Adaline didn’t deserve to know… there was no one else to blame but myself.

I’d realised this morning that there was only one way to lessen the pressure, rid myself ofwhatever excess guilt was lingering… enough that I could see clearly, figure out how to make this all right. And there was only one person who I knew could survive a talk like that.

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