Page 74 of Rewriting the Story

He looks surprised at my question. “It was okay, actually. More productive than most of mine lately.”

I want so badly to ask him what that means, but I remain silent as we sit beside one another, listening to the breeze and the waves crashing out in the ocean. I should say something, anything to break this tensionbetween us, but I feel like anything I try to say is going to be the wrong thing.

“Do you ever wonder?”

I look over at him, his eyes still trained on the ocean in front of us, as I think about the question he asked me. I know what he’s asking. He doesn't need to elaborate.

“All the time,” I whisper back to him.

He turns to meet my gaze. “Do you even know what I'm referencing?”

“Of course I do.”

He sighs heavily. “Will I always wonder what happened between us, or do you think someday, we’ll get a second chance?”

I had no idea he was even thinking about another chance with me. Maybe what I said to him in his room the other night made him think about it, but I don’t think he’s actually serious. I assume he’s just wondering what it would look like. I don’t think he’ll ever let it happen. Not after everything I said to him. Not after all I did.

If I was him, I wouldn't give me another chance.

“I don’t think those words belong in the same sentence with my name, especially not after what I said to you.”

He turns to the ocean again. “I’m not sure that’s true.” He must sense my confusion, because he continues. “If the world didn't have or give second chances, all of us would be a lot lonelier. Everyone deserves a second chance, even after fucking up.”

“I mean, unless you killed someone, I’d agree.”

He laughs. “Well, yeah, Amelia. That, we can agree on.”

“Wow, I never thought I’d see the day you agreed with me on something again.”

Another laugh, and then we’re back to silence. This time, it doesn't feel awkward or tense, just familiar. It reminds me of when we used to have study dates, the only sounds between us were either the music I played or our typing on our laptops.

“What do you wonder most about?”

A stray tear falls from my eyes as I think about what we could have been. “I wonder what would have happened if I made a different choice.”

“And what have you found out?”

“A lot of different things, I guess. Mostly, I’ve found out things about myself I don’t think I ever would have had I not been in England.”

I can tell he thinks this conversation has gone too far, because he adjusts his glasses and how he’s sitting. “We don’t have to talk about any of this if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s okay, Henry.” I reach out, my hand brushing his arm, goosebumps traveling all over my skin. I take a deep breath, needing all the air I can get. “I was in a really bad place over there. So bad, I decided to talk to someone about it.”

“Good for you, Amelia.”

“A month into our sessions, I was diagnosed with ADHD.”

He studies my face, and I’m not sure why I’m so fucking nervous but I am.

“That’s not me excusing my behavior or what I did to you at the airport, but it felt good knowing there was a reason behind how I’ve felt my whole life. I sort of spun out over there, but with more sessions and medication, I couldn't believe how much better I felt.”

“Wow,” is all he says.

“Mhm,” is all I can muster.

It could be minutes or hours before one of us speaks again. “I’m really proud of you.”

He says it so quietly, I almost think I misheard him. “What?”

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