Page 83 of Wonderstruck

"Tell me more," I said as I slipped a chunk of Flo's blueberry muffins in my mouth.

Pink invaded her cheeks. "I only know of it because my Mom talked about the ballet adaptation she saw when she still lived in France, and I just thought it would make a good French classic to write about.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the wayshe was glowing. “What’s it about?”

Wonder filled her eyes as they fellahead of her. “It’s about this beautiful courtesan, Marguerite, who falls in love with a guy named Armand. He worships her, like,obviously, and for a while, they have this dreamy love affair where she gives up her old life for him.”

I take a sip of my coffee, brushing blueberry crumbs off my quarter zip. “That’s sweet.”

She nods, peering at me. “It is sweet. Very sweet.UntilArmand’sDad shows up and ruins everything.”

My stomach drops, and I grip mycup tighter. “His dad?” The question comes out breathless.

She nods, giving me her fullattention this time. “Classic case of parental manipulation. He guilt-trips her into leaving, convincing her that staying with Armand will ruin his future, and her life.”

My stomach fell another tenstories, as the plastic lid dug into my hand, sharp and grounding. Instead of getting lost in her eyes, I dropped my head, trying my hardest to not give in and look at her. If I did, she’d see something eating at me.

Because,fuck.

Rory kept talking, but I was stuckthere.

Because no.No, this wasn'thappening.

The day I considered coming cleanabout all the reasons I blanked her last year and this happens. I should’veknown. The universe loves pulling shit like this—but dangling my secrets in front of Rory like a time bomb, ticking louder and louder, waiting for the moment she finallygets it? It was silent torture.

"So she lies, tells Armand she doesn’t love him anymore, and breaks his heart as well as her own."

I swallow. Hard.

She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She doesn’t realise she’s describingus, that this was exactly what kept me from her last year. That every time I wanted to be with her, his voice was in my head.

But the universe does. Andapparently, it thinks I’ve been keeping this secret long enough.

"So she just ditches him?"I heard myself say. My voice was steady, but my fingers wrapped around the cup so hard I was convinced it was about to burst. "That’s—God, that’s messed up."

"She does itforhim," Rory argues, her gaze warming the side of my face. "She loves him so much that she’d rather see him hate her than let him throw his life away."

My jaw locks.

The universe isn’t just outing me. It’s mocking me.

Because wasn’t that the exact logic I used? That if I kept her at arm’s length, she’d be better off? That if I made her think I didn’t care, she’d move on and find someoneless complicated?

And yet—here she was. Still here. Still looking at me like Ididn’tspend last year silently pushing her away. And I couldn't tell if that made me feel relieved or worse.

I rolled the takeout cup again, pretending like my hands didn’t suddenly feel unsteady. "How does it end?”

Shetells me. Marguerite dies alone. Armand realises the truth too late.

The universe gives me one final shove.

I felt windswept as I finally met her gaze, settling into the warmth of the golden flecks as I pulled my smile tight, trying to convince her that my heart wasn’t sinking and my head wasn’t spinning. “How about we pick something less tragic?”

She shrugged, as though agreeing with me, but I caught it. I always caught the little things with her. And right now I didn’t miss the flutter of her lashes, the kind that convinced me that she wanted to argue that it was romantic, and not tragic.

But finding the positives inheartbreak was Rory.

The streets had cleared a little sinceleaving Flo’s, and the sky had melted into a canvas of burnt orange and pastel swirls, casting a hazy glow over every building, every car roof. Even the high points of Rory’s already rosy cheeks.

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