Chapter 22 #3
I turned, following his gaze until my eyes landed on the photograph he was staring at.
Confusion pulled my face tight as I picked up the old, slightly faded picture.
I held it carefully, my eyes tracing a version of myself that didn’t quite feel like me anymore.
A younger me. A brighter me. If any version of myself had ever been yellow, it was this one—before the storms, before the clouds.
I was standing in front of my house. It looked better then.
The paint wasn’t peeling. The yard wasn’t neglected.
My blonde hair was shorter, my skin warmer, glowing in a way it didn’t now.
But my eyes only lingered on myself for a second.
“That’s Henry,” I said, my gaze shifting to the boy whose hand I was holding. He was smiling wide at the camera, completely unguarded. Completely happy.
“That’s Henry?” Austin asked, confused.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “He used?”
“Yeah…” Austin trailed off, conflicted.
“Is that how—” I stopped myself, careful. “Is that how he overdosed?” For some reason, it made sense. More sense than anything else had. No one had believed Henry killed himself. It had never fit. Not for someone like him.
Austin’s face fell. He sighed deeply, then shook his head.
“No, Blair,” he said quietly. “Zane told Seren how it happened. It wasn’t drugs.
” The understanding I’d tried to build fractured again.
“Maybe that would’ve been easier,” Austin said softly.
“For you. For Zane. For all his friends.” His eyes stayed on the picture.
“Maybe it would’ve made more sense if there was a reason.
Something to blame. Someone to blame. Maybe sometimes there isn’t a reason that makes sense,” he continued.
“Maybe there’s always more going on than we ever get to see. ”
“Maybe there isn’t more to the story,” I said simply, like I was finishing both his thoughts and my own.
“Maybe not,” Austin agreed, sitting down beside me. The mattress dipped under his weight.
“I wonder if Henry knows,” I said, still looking at the faded picture, my eyes tracing my old friend's face.
“What?” Austin asked.
“That we’d all end up here,” I said quietly. “Me. You. Zane. Seren.”
“Maybe he does,” Austin said. “Maybe this is really Henry’s story in the end.”
I mulled Austin’s words over in my mind, wondering if they were true.
Maybe this really was Henry’s story, like he said.
Maybe Henry was watching us from somewhere above, like a movie, curious to see how the plot would turn out.
Maybe he was just as eager to witness the ending.
Maybe he was just as clueless as I was when it came to predicting how it would all finish.
I couldn’t see the resolution yet. Right now, I had no idea what the ending was supposed to be.
“Yeah,” I finally hummed in agreement.
Austin looked just as lost in thought as I was, though his eyes never left my face. They were glassy with exhaustion, but deep all the same, like he was holding more than he knew what to do with.
“Blair,” he said quietly, moving one of his hands so his fingers brushed along my arm, like he was trying to pull me back into the moment through touch alone.
“Yeah?” I echoed, repeating the same simple word from seconds earlier.
“How are you doing?” he asked. His voice was hesitant, gentle, like he remembered how fragile I’d been the last time we were together. When it was just us, stripped of everything else.
I let out a slow breath as the last two weeks flooded my mind all at once. The pain. The fear. The tears. And then, finally, the hope.
“I feel better,” I said honestly. “And really… it’s all thanks to you.
” I swallowed. “You might have saved my life, you know. Besides my family and Cherry, I don’t know if anyone else would have done what you did.
” My voice softened. “I owe you so much because of it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough. ”
For the first time all night, Austin smiled. It wasn’t one of his usual smiles. It wasn’t bright. It was dimmer, like a memory of something beautiful—but it was there.
“You don’t have to thank me, Blair,” he whispered, his hand brushing my arm again. His touch was so light I almost questioned whether I’d imagined it.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, meeting his eyes. “I do. I really do. Thank you. Forever.”
Austin didn’t speak right away. He just looked at me. After what could have been seconds or minutes, he smiled again. “You’re welcome, Yellow.”
The word made my heart flutter, pulling me back to earlier days when that was all he ever called me.
Though maybe those times hadn’t been simpler at all.
Maybe they’d been just as complicated—we just hadn’t known it yet.
Silence settled between us. I wasn’t sure if we were out of words, or if so much had happened that we both needed to pause.
Maybe it was both. The tension was still there, thick and undeniable.
It felt heavy enough to touch, to grab hold of. Unresolved.
“So,” I finally said, breaking the silence with a sigh. “It kind of feels like everything is… I don’t know.” I hesitated. “I don’t want to say resolved. But like… we can see it now.”
Austin frowned slightly, his eyebrows pulling together as he tried to follow my meaning. “What do you mean?” he asked, still gentle.
“Well,” I said, exhaling, “everything’s on the table now. Your secrets. Mine. All the real stuff. It’s finally out in the open.” He nodded slowly, though he still looked unsure. “It kind of feels like we never really knew each other,” I admitted softly.
Austin let out a long breath, his eyes lifting to meet mine again. He studied my face like he was searching for something, though I didn’t know what. He didn’t answer. So we just stared at each other instead.
“Maybe we only knew the people we wanted each other to see,” Austin said finally. “We were pretending to be the best versions of ourselves.”
“Yeah,” I agreed quietly. I could see the truth in his words instantly. Not just in myself, but in him too.
“Do you remember the day I brought you to the waterfall?” Austin asked carefully. Of course I did. The memory rushed back all at once. The peace, but also the excitement. The fun, but also the ease. The golden sparks that seemed to hang in the air around us. The way Austin had watched me that day.
“I could never forget,” I said honestly.
Austin nodded, though he didn’t smile the way I expected him to. “Do you remember being upset with me because I hadn’t called you the week before that?”
My brows furrowed slightly as I nodded. “Yeah.”
“The night we had our cupcake date,” he continued, “I went to see Roger to tell him I was officially done. That whole week, every time I wanted to call you, I couldn’t.
I told myself I wasn’t allowed to until I had everything figured out.
Until I knew how to be a better person for you. So I could be good for you.”
I stared at him as he spoke. There was something in his voice, something painful enough that it made me want to pull him into my arms.
“You were a good person to me,” I said softly.
“The problem is, Blair,” he said, “I never dealt with the person I actually was. I just hid him. I buried my past without ever taking it apart before trying to put myself back together.”
“But you have time to do that now,” I told him. “And so do I. We both do.” I swallowed before adding, “We can do it together.” I said the last part holding my breath, anxiety clawing at me because of everything it implied.
“Blair,” Austin said quietly, shaking his head. My stomach dropped. “I planned on doing everything I could to show you I could be a good person for you when you came back healthy,” he said, reaching out to take my hand.
“But…” I breathed, already knowing.
“But in the last twelve hours, I realized something,” he said gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
“Do you remember what I told you once?” he asked.
“That I would climb a hundred mountains for you—but it wouldn’t mean anything if you couldn’t climb the mountains for yourself.
” I nodded, unable to speak. “I think you still have some mountains to climb,” he continued.
“But I have my own mountains too. All the things we kept from each other. The secrets. The lies. Mine especially,” he admitted.
“But you were lying too, Blair. I know it’s different.
I know you were mostly lying to yourself.
Still… I don’t think we ever really have a chance if we don’t give ourselves time to climb those mountains. ”
“Separately,” I whispered, my eyes filling with a soft, stinging blur.
Not because his words hurt. Not because they surprised me. But because I knew they were true. I’d said it myself, after all. We couldn’t swim those waters together without drowning. There were always going to be consequences.
“So… what now?” I asked quietly, blinking up at the ceiling in a weak attempt to keep the tears at bay.
“I guess we try to find ourselves,” Austin said, tightening his grip on my hand. I could feel his emotion as clearly as my own.
“Fifteen minutes apart,” I murmured, remembering my own words from weeks ago. “But in different worlds.”
“I should go,” Austin said softly, finally letting go of my hand. “Seren’s still at my house.”
I nodded, looking down at the ground because I wasn’t sure where else to look.
“I hope everything will be okay between you two.” Austin stood without answering right away.
I still didn’t look at him, but I could feel his gaze on my skin, like he was trying to see through me.
Like he was desperate to understand what I was thinking. What I was feeling.