In The Between

✧･Chapter 25 Im Right Here

The drive home is a blur I don't really remember.

One second I'm in that room, lights too bright, music too loud, her voice still echoing in my ears - and the next, I'm in my driveway with the engine running and my hands locked around the steering wheel like I forgot how to let go.

I sit there for a second too long, then I finally leave the car.

I'm out of the car before I can think better of it, keys already in my hand, steps too fast, uneven against the pavement. My chest feels tight, like everything in me is trying to cave inward at once.

I make it to the door and fumble the key on the first try.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, jaw tight, forcing it in again. The lock clicks, louder than it should be, and I push the door open just enough to step inside, and thenheadlights sweep across the front of the house.

I freeze, and slowly, I turn my head. A car pulls into my driveway.

The engine cuts, and the driver's door opens. And of course it's her.

I shut my eyes for half a second, something sharp and frustrating twisting in my chest. "You've got to be kidding me," I breathe, already turning back toward the door like I can just disappear.

"Claire!"

I exhale hard through my nose, grip tightening on the edge of the door before I turn around to face her.

Mae is already halfway up the driveway, moving fast, like she thinks if she slows down I'll vanish. Her hair's a mess, her breathing uneven, eyes glassy even from here.

She looks wrecked, which doesn't make this easier.

"What are you doing?" I call out, my voice sharper than I mean for it to be - but I don't take it back. "What are you doing here?"

She doesn't stop walking. "I couldn't let you leave like that," she says, her voice breaking just slightly as she gets closer.

A humorless laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. "Oh, now you can't?"

That makes her falter, just for a second. But she keeps coming.

"Claire, please-"

"No." I shake my head immediately, stepping back, putting space between us as she reaches the bottom of the steps. "No, you don't get to do this out here."

She pauses, searching my face like she's trying to figure out how close she's allowed to get, and I don't give her the answer.

I turn, pushing the door open wider and stepping inside without waiting to see if she follows.

I hear her behind me anyway, and the door shuts with a soft click that feels way too final for something that isn't even close to over.

The door barely closes before I'm already turning on her.

"Don't," I snap, backing up a step, my chest rising too fast. "Don't come in here and start acting like you get to just, what, talk this out? Fix it? You don't get to do that."

Mae stops just in front of the front door. She doesn't move any further, like she knows better. Like she can feel how thin the line is between me standing here and me kicking her out

"I'm not trying to fix it," she says, voice unsteady but quiet.

I let out a sharp laugh, dragging a hand through my hair. "Then what are you doing here, Mae? Seriously. Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you decided everything all at once and now I'm just supposed to be okay with it."

Her face tightens, but she doesn't interrupt.

"Say something," I push, my voice cracking around the edges. "Or is this the part where you just stand there and look sorry until I calm down enough for you to feel better about it?"

"I don't feel better about any of this," she says, a little stronger this time. "I feel-"

"Yeah?" I cut in quickly. "You feel bad? That's great, Mae. Really helpful. I've been feeling bad for six years, so I'm glad you finally caught up."

She flinches like I hit her.

"You don't get to show up here and act like this is something we can just talk through," I continue, my hands shaking now, adrenaline and hurt tangling together. "You don't get to decide tonight's the night everything changes."

"I'm not deciding that," she says quickly. "I just... needed to see you. I needed to-"

"To what?" I demand. "Clear your conscience? Make sure I'm still here waiting for you?"

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out and the silence stretches for half a second too long.

Something in me snaps.

"You know what, no- actually, don't answer that," I say, shaking my head, pacing once before turning back to her. "Because I don't think you even know what you're doing. I think you're just feeling something for once and now you're panicking about it."

"That's not-"

"It is," I push, my voice rising. "That's exactly what this is. You didn't want me then, but now it's inconvenient for you not to have me, so here you are."

"That's not true," she says again, louder now, but it breaks halfway through.

"Then explain it to me," I fire back immediately. "Explain to me why now. Why after everything. Why after six years of nothing."

She stares at me, eyes glassy, breathing uneven, and for a second, I think she's not going to answer.

"Because I was scared," she says.

I let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah. I know that part."

"No, Claire-" She shakes her head quickly, taking a small step forward before stopping herself. "I was terrified, and I handled it the worst way I could have. I know that. I know I hurt you."

"You didn't just hurt me," I snap. "You erased me."

Her face crumples slightly, but she doesn't look away.

"Then yell at me," she says suddenly, her voice shaking but firm in a way that makes me pause. "Scream at me. Do whatever you need to do. Just... don't hold it in."

I blink at her, completely thrown off.

"What?"

"Let it out," she says, tears already slipping down her cheeks. "All of it. I deserve it. If you're angry, be angry. If you hate me right now, then say it. Just don't stand there and pretend you're fine, because you're not."

A sharp, disbelieving laugh escapes me.

"You think I've been pretending?" I ask, my voice low and dangerous now.

"No," she says quickly. "I think you've been carrying it alone."

That hits somewhere I don't want it to.

I shake my head hard, like I can physically throw it off. "Don't do that," I warn. "Don't stand there and act like you understand anything about what I've been carrying."

"I don't," she admits immediately. "Not fully. But I know I'm the reason for it."

"Yeah," I say, my voice breaking just slightly. "You are."

Silence falls again, heavier this time.

My chest feels tight. Too tight.

And I can feel it building - the anger, the hurt, everything I've been holding in for years clawing its way up my throat.

"You don't get to tell me to scream at you like that fixes anything," I say, quieter now but shaking. "You don't get to turn this into some moment where you take the blame and suddenly that makes it okay."

"I don't think it makes it okay," she says softly. "I just think you deserve to say it."

My jaw tightens and my eyes burn. And this time, when I speak, I don't stop it.

"You want me to say it?" I ask, my voice cracking open. "Fine."

I take a step toward her.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me?"

Mae doesn't interrupt, she doesn't move. She just stands there and takes it, and somehow that makes my chest ache even worse.

"Do you even understand what you took from me?" I ask, my voice cracking despite how hard I try to hold it together. "Because it wasn't just one night, Mae. It wasn't just some mistake. That was everything to me."

Her eyes squeeze shut for a second, tears slipping out faster now, but she nods.

"I know-"

"No, you don't," I cut in immediately.

"Do you know what that does to a person?" I continue, my voice rising again, emotion spilling over whether I want it to or not. "Do you know what it feels like to be told something that meant everything to you meant nothing to the other person?"

Mae shakes her head slightly, like she can't even defend herself against that.

"I stood there," I say, my chest tightening, breath uneven now, "and I listened to you brush it off. I listened to you make it sound like it was nothing. Like I was nothing."

"You weren't," she says quickly, stepping forward before stopping herself again. "You weren't nothing. You were-"

"Then why didn't you choose me!?" I snap.

That stops her, completely and the question hangs between us like something fragile and brutal all at once.

Her mouth opens, then closes. And that... that hurts more than anything she could've said.

I let out a broken laugh, shaking my head as I step back again, putting more space between us like I need the air.

"Yeah," I mutter. "That's what I thought."

"It wasn't that I didn't-" she tries again, her voice desperate now.

"Then what was it?" I fire back, my voice cracking again. "Because it looked exactly like that. It looked like you woke up, decided I wasn't worth the complication, and walked away."

"I didn't walk away," she says, louder now, emotion finally spilling through. "I panicked. I handled it wrong. I handled it horribly, and I've regretted it ever since."

"Regret doesn't fix six years," I shoot back immediately.

"I know that!" She says, her voice is breaking completely now. "I know it doesn't, Claire. I know I don't get to just show up and ask you to trust me like nothing happened. I know I don't deserve that."

The room goes quiet again and her words hang there, raw and unguarded in a way I don't think I've ever heard from her before.

"Then why are you here?" I ask, softer now, but it feels sharper somehow, like there's no room left to hide behind anger. "If you know all that... why are you standing in my house right now?"

Mae swallows hard. Her hands are shaking at her sides, her whole body like it's barely holding together.

"Because I love you."

The words don't echo.

They hit.

And something in my chest gives out completely.

I shake my head immediately, like I can physically reject them, but it's too late, they're already there, already sinking in, already unraveling everything I've been barely holding together since I got in the car.

"Don't," I say, but it comes out wrong, too thin, too fragile to sound like any kind of warning.

"I mean it," she says, stepping forward without thinking this time. "I love you, Claire. I've loved you... I just didn't know how to face it, and I ruined everything because of that, but I-"

"Stop," I choke out.

My vision blurs fast. I press my hand to my mouth like I can hold it in, like I can stop what's coming, but my chest caves anyway, a broken sound slipping out before I can catch it.

"Stop," I repeat, weaker now.

Because I can't hear that. Not now. Not after everything.

My breathing turns uneven, sharp and shallow as I shake my head over and over again, backing up like distance might help - like if I put enough space between us, it won't hurt as much.

But it does, it hurts worse.

"You don't get to say that," I manage, but my voice is breaking apart with every word. "You don't... you don't get to say that to me now."

Tears spill over, and I don't even try to stop them this time.

"Do you have any idea what that would've meant to me?" I ask, my voice cracking wide open. "Back then? Do you have any idea what I would've done if you had just...just said that?"

Mae looks like she's about to fall apart right in front of me, but I can't stop.

I can't.

"Six years, Mae," I choke out, shaking my head, my hands coming up like I don't know where to put them.

"Six years of wondering what I did wrong.

Of thinking I imagined it, or made it bigger than it was.

Six years of trying to convince myself that I didn't lose something that was never mine in the first place. "

My voice breaks completely on that.

"I had to let you go," I whisper, the words barely making it out. "I had to teach myself how to live without you, how to stop loving you the way I did, because it was ruining me."

Mae's crying openly now, but I can barely see her through the blur.

"And now you're standing here," I continue, my chest heaving, everything spilling out whether I want it to or not, "telling me you love me like that doesn't change everything all over again."

"It does change everything," she says, her voice shaking. "I know it does. I know it's not fair, but it's the truth-"

"That's the problem!" I cry, the words ripping out of me. "It is the truth. And I hate that it is."

Silence crashes down for half a second, broken only by the sound of my uneven breathing.

"I never stopped loving you," I admit, and it feels like the ground gives out under me the second I say it. "I tried - I tried so hard - but I didn't. And now you come in here and say that, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it."

Mae takes a step closer, hesitant but desperate. "You don't have to do anything right now. I'm not asking you to fix it or decide anything tonight. I just... needed you to know."

"Why?" I ask, my voice smaller now, wrecked in a way I can't hide anymore. "Why did I need to know that now?"

"Because you deserved the truth," she says, her voice breaking. "Even if it's late. Even if it doesn't fix anything. You deserved to know I didn't forget you. I didn't move on like it didn't matter. I just handled it wrong. I handled you wrong."

That breaks something else in me, completely. A sob pulls out of my chest before I can stop it, my knees almost giving out as I bring a hand up to my face, trying - and failing - to hold it together.

"Six years, Mae," I choke out, the words breaking apart as fast as they leave me. My hands come up like I don't know what to do with them, like I can physically hold myself together if I just try hard enough.

But I can't.

"I waited," I whisper, my voice collapsing in on itself. "I waited for you to just look at me and see me. And you didn't. You never did."

Mae takes a step forward.

"I see you," she says, her voice wrecked, barely holding steady. "I see you, Claire. I swear to God, I do."

I let out a broken laugh, shaking my head, tears falling faster now. "Now," I repeat again, but it doesn't have the same bite. It just sounds tired.

Empty.

"I don't know what to do with that," I admit, and that feels worse than anything else I've said. "I don't know how to just... believe you after all this time."

"You don't have to," Mae says quickly. "Not right now. Not tonight. You don't have to forgive me, or trust me, or even want me." Her voice cracks, but she keeps going. "Just... don't shut me out completely. Please."

I shake my head again, but it's weaker this time, my whole body trembling now under the weight of everything I've been holding in for years.

"I don't know how not to," I whisper.

There's a pause. A fragile, suspended second where neither of us moves.

And then Mae closes the distance, slowly this time. Like she's giving me every chance to pull away.

But I don't. I don't move at all, and her arms come around me like she's afraid of me.

Not of me, but of what I might do. Like she's expecting me to shove her back, to tell her she's too late.

For a second, she barely holds on at all. And that hesitation?

That's what breaks me.

A sound rips out of me before I can stop it, raw and ugly and nothing like the quiet, controlled way I've been holding myself together. My hands grab onto her like I'm falling, like she's the only thing keeping me upright, fists twisting into the fabric at her back so tight it almost hurts.

But I don't let go.

I can't.

The moment she feels that, something in her gives too.

Her arms tighten around me all at once, like she's done pretending she doesn't want this, like she's done holding back.

One hand presses firm against my back, the other sliding up into my hair, cradling the back of my head and pulling me in against her shoulder.

"Hey... hey," she whispers, but her voice is shaking just as much as I am. "I've got you. I've got you, Claire."

I shake my head against her, pressing my face into her neck, my breath breaking against her skin as the tears come harder, hot and relentless, soaking into her like I can somehow empty all of this out of me if I just cried hard enough.

"I hate you," I sob, the words tearing out of me, jagged and uneven. "I hate you for this- I hate you for leaving- I hate you for coming back and- and-"

My voice collapses completely, dissolving into another broken sound I don't recognize. But I don't pull away, and neither does she.

"I know," Mae breathes, and I feel it... I feel the way her chest stutters against mine, the way her grip tightens like she's holding onto something slipping through her fingers. "I know. You can hate me. You can say whatever you need to say, okay? I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

My fingers clutch tighter at her, desperate now, like if I loosen even a little she'll disappear again, like she did before, like she always does.

"You don't get to leave again," I choke out, barely able to form the words. "You don't get to do this to me twice. I won't- I can't survive that again, Mae, I can't-"

"I'm not leaving," she says immediately, and there's something different in her voice now, still soft, still breaking, but rooted. Certain. "I'm right here. I'm right here, Claire."

"You always do," I whisper, the words small and shattered against her skin.

There's a pause... just a breath - and then she pulls back barely enough to speak, her forehead pressing against my temple instead, like she still can't stand to put space between us.

"Then I'll stay until you believe me," she says quietly. "However long it takes. Even if you never do, I'm still staying."

That, more than anything, undoes me.

A fresh wave of sobs crashes through me, stronger than before, and I fold into her completely this time, no resistance left, no walls, no distance. My arms wrap tighter around her, my body shaking against hers as everything I've buried for six years finally comes apart in her hold.

And she just holds me. No pulling away. No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Like this is where she's meant to be.