38 MADDY
MADDY
History always repeats itself
There’s no one else I’d rather be here with.
The sentence keeps replaying in my head, over and over. Like one of those annoying supermarket songs that follows you home and refuses to leave.
The words Jacob used to say. All the time.
There is no one else I’d rather be with.
And I believed every single one of them, but he still cheated. So what if Ryan is the same? Some quiet part of me insists he isn’t. That Ryan isn’t Jacob, that this feels completely different. But how am I supposed to trust my own instincts when I was so completely wrong the last time?
All day I’ve been trying to stay busy. Which, apparently, has become my strategy lately. If I keep moving, if I keep doing something, my brain won’t have time to spiral.
So I’m at work. Again.
Making coffee. Steaming milk. Restocking milk. Baking cinnamon rolls. Baking banana bread. Drinking too much coffee. Finding literally anything to do that doesn’t involve thinking. But it doesn’t work.
Because what am I even supposed to do now? Do we just keep pretending? No. Do we pretend it never happened? That feels impossible.
At least I don’t have to figure it out today. I can just go home, sleep, and think about it when I see him.
The café stayed open late again today, and by the time we finally closed, it was already past eight-thirty. Everyone else headed out not long after, but I stayed behind, picking up a few extra things.
But now I’m done so I grab my phone and text Noah.
ME: walking home in fifteen.
Fifteen minutes later, I grab my jacket and head for the door. The final light clicks off behind me as I pull the door shut, the lock snapping loudly in the still street.
I tug my jacket tighter around myself as I step off the curb, and then I see a car parked under the streetlight. The engine is off, the driver’s door is open, and a tall, broad figure leaning against it.
I squint my eyes and as I come closer, I see it’s Ryan.
Fuck. Why is he here? Does he want to talk about the kiss? What do I even say if he does? Pretend it didn’t happen? Laugh? Fake amnesia? Move countries?!
He straightens when he sees me, pushing off the car. His hands slide into the pockets of his jeans. And I notice that his shoulders are a little tense.
I force my legs to work and walk over to him, until I’m a few steps apart. An awkward silence stretches between us. So I guess he noticed how I was being weird when I rushed off yesterday.
I clear my throat. “Uh… what are you doing here?”
“Noah asked me to pick you up,” he answers.
“Why?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s late and dark. And he couldn’t come, so he called me.”
Fantastic. Thanks, Noah.
“I mean,” I say quickly, “it’s fine, really. I can walk.”
He shakes his head once. “It wasn’t an option.”
“Ryan, seriously—”
“Noah will literally put an end to me,” he cuts in, completely deadpan. “And I don’t have a death wish. So please. Just get in the car.”
I look around, hesitating for a moment. But I don’t really have a choice, do I?
“Fine,” I mutter.
He opens the passenger door and steps back, giving me space. I slip past him and slide into the seat without looking at him. The door shuts softly behind me and I hear him exhale as he walks to his side.
The drive is quiet. And even if it’s only a ten-minute drive, it feels like an hour. Neither of us says anything. Not even small talk. Not even a stupid comment about traffic or the weather. Just silence.
Ryan pulls up in front of my house and the engine goes quiet, but neither of us moves right away. My heartbeat sounds way too loud.
“So…” I say quickly, the word slipping out before I can overthink it. “Thanks for driving. I’ll see you at school.”
I reach for the door handle—but his hand closes gently around my wrist. “Wait.”
I turn back slowly, already halfway into panic.
He exhales once, like he’s bracing himself. “Can I just—” He stops, swallowing. “Can I say something?”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
His eyes lift to mine. “Mads, about— ”
“I think we should break up.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, sharp and hard. Silence crashes into the car and Ryan freezes, then slowly leans back, like he’s not sure he heard me right.
“…What?” he says quietly.
“I mean—not a real breakup,” I rush out, the words tumbling over each other. “Because we weren’t actually… together. But the fake dating thing—I think we should stop.”
He doesn’t respond right away. He just looks at me, his eyes unreadable. The silence stretches, pressing in on me from all sides.
“We got what we wanted, right?” I continue quickly. “You’re not being set up anymore, and Jacob’s probably scared enough to stay away from me. So… it worked.”
He keeps still, not saying anything.
Please say something.
“So if we say we broke up, everyone will back off. And things can just… go back to normal. We can be—” I hesitate for half a second. “—friends again.”
The word feels strange in my mouth.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, nodding. “You’re right.”
I should be relieved he’s so relaxed about it, but somehow it makes my chest twist. And we stay quiet for another moment.
“I’ll tell the others,” I murmur. “About us ending it.”
One of his brows lifts slightly. “You’re not gonna tell them it was fake?”
The word hit sharp and hard. I swallow. “No. I’ll just say we broke up. And they’ll probably just leave us alone.”
He nods again, looking past me, scratching the side of his head.
“Except maybe Kiara,” I mutter.
A quiet breath of a laugh leaves him. “Yeah. She’s gonna lose her mind.”
The silence settles again, even heavier this time. So I reach for the door handle.
“Well… I should go,” I say quietly. “But thanks for the ride.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Sure.”
For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something—his mouth parting slightly—but I open the door before he can. I step out without looking back and close the door gently behind me.
Halfway up the driveway, I hear the low hum of the engine, and then the sound fades as the car pulls away.
Something tingles in my eyes, but I shake myself out of it. I unlock the front door and step inside. Noah’s in the kitchen, bent halfway under the sink with a wrench in his hand and his head practically inside the cabinet.
“Hey, Mads,” he says, voice echoing slightly from the pipes.
“Hey.”
“Sorry I couldn’t pick you up,” he adds, still fiddling with something. “Sink was leaking, so… emergency plumbing situation.”
I stare at the dripping faucet.
That damn sink.
I’m never cooking again.
“It’s okay,” I say quietly.
He straightens up, wiping his hands on a towel, and finally looks at me. “Well, good thing Ryan could grab you.”
I nod once, not looking at him.
Noah studies my face for a second. “What’s up?”
The words come out before I can stop them. “Ryan and I broke up.”
Silence, his eyes widen, and a tiny frown forms between his brows.
“Whoa—wait, what?” Noah blinks. “I thought you guys were fine. He literally just picked you up—”
“Yes,” I cut in quickly. “He dropped me off. We…uh, we broke up in the car.”
His forehead creases again. “Why?”
I shrug, forcing my shoulders to stay loose. “We just realized we’re better off as friends. It’s fine. Really. We didn’t fight or anything. Nothing happened.”
Noah keeps looking at me like he’s trying to read a language he doesn’t understand. “…Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say immediately. Way too fast. “I’m totally fine. We’re friends. Nothing’s weird.”
He stares at me with an unreadable expression.
“I’m just gonna go upstairs,” I say quickly. “Night, Noah.”
Before he can ask anything else, I turn and head for the stairs. The second my bedroom door closes behind me, the air leaves my lungs. I fall face-down onto my bed with a muffled groan. There’s still a tight knot in my stomach.
“Ugh,” I whisper into my pillow. “Go away.”
I roll onto my back and grab my phone, thumbs moving before I can think too hard.
ME: hey, just so you guys know
ME: Ryan and I broke up. nothing happened, everything is fine, we’re just better off as friends.
The replies come quickly.
KIARA: WHATTT?!
MEL: oh Mads, I’m so sorry. we’re here if you need anything.
LIAM: sending you love. you know where to find us.
My throat tightens, and I lock my screen before their sympathy can make me cry.
A few minutes later, my door creaks open softly. Dad steps inside, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tired eyes gentle as they find me.
“Noah told me,” he says quietly.
I sit up slowly, crossing my legs and avoiding his gaze. He walks over and sits on the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m fine.”
He studies me for a moment, like he’s trying to read everything I’m not saying. “He didn’t do anything, right?”
“No, Dad. Nothing happened.”
A small breath leaves him, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Okay. Good.”
His hand comes to rest on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I can make you some tea.”
I shake my head, my throat still too tight for anything warm or comforting. “No thanks. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”
“Alright, honey.”
He stands and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The door closes quietly behind him and I lie back down, staring up at the ceiling as the room settles into darkness.
This is better, I tell myself. I mean, now it can’t get complicated.
It would’ve only made things worse. Feelings never work.
They only ever get you hurt. So it’s fine. Fine. Fine. Fine.