Chapter Seventeen
From: Headphone Guy
Issaky demands details when he picks up his coffee tomorrow.
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Last night had been a disaster. The best disaster of her entire life.
Myah sat cross-legged on her couch, coffee cooling between her palms as she watched Jace wage war against her closet door.
"Motherf—" The screwdriver slipped from his hand and the door shifted before Jace nearly took a hinge to the face.
She bit her lip to keep from laughing.
The glare he shot at the door could have melted steel.
"You okay over there?" she asked.
"The door and I are having a disagreement."
Myah snorted.
The door had been off its frame for three years.
Three years. Most people saw a detached closet door and thought someone was lazy.
Jace knew better. He knew exactly why it had happened.
He knew she'd ripped it off during one of the worst spirals of her life.
One of those moments when everything inside her felt too loud and too big and too impossible to contain.
Most people had either judged her for it or quietly pretended not to notice.
Jace had simply woken up that morning, stared at the detached door for approximately ten seconds, and announced: "I'm fixing that.
" As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
As if she deserved to have things fixed.
Her chest squeezed. God, I love him.
The realization didn't hit like lightning anymore. It settled, all warm and steady.
Jace adjusted the hinge again. The movement pulled the sleeve of his T-shirt higher. Myah's attention immediately abandoned all rational thought. Not that she'd had much of that to begin with.
His dark, shoulder length hair was a complete mess from sleep and so soft looking, falling into his eyes every thirty seconds.
Every time it did, he'd shove it back impatiently.
The swirled tattoos running down his arm twisted when his muscles flexed.
Black ink disappearing beneath his shirt before reappearing along his side.
Every line familiar, now. Every curve memorized.
Her gaze dropped lower to the grey sweatpants that hung perfectly on his hips. The universe was cruel. That was the only explanation.
Nobody should look that good while fighting a closet door.
Jace caught her staring and a grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. "You know," he said, "if you're not going to help, you could at least stop objectifying me."
Myah gasped dramatically. "I am appreciating art."
"Art?"
"Absolutely."
His grin widened. "You're ridiculous." Jace returned his attention to the hinge. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It felt different now, almost gentler. Like something fragile had finally stopped breaking.
The door suddenly slid into place and Jace froze. Myah sat up a little straighter, leaning towards the door in awe. The door remained standing as Jace slowly, carefully, released it.
"Oh my God," Myah breathed. She hadn't seen that door attached in so long that it almost looked wrong now.
Jace stared. "I won." The sheer disbelief in his voice made her laugh. He turned toward her with both arms raised. "I won!"
"You beat the door!" Myah laughed, clapping excitedly for him.
He bowed before jumping onto the bed and tackling Myah to the mattress.
He was laying above her, loose, dark curls drifting just above her nose.
And just like that, the tension she'd been carrying since last night eased a little more. For a few moments neither of them said anything, until Jace bent down and dropped a soft kiss to Myah’s cheek before lifting himself off.
Eventually Jace exhaled. "We should probably talk."
Myah's stomach immediately flipped. "Yeah."
His fingers found hers. Intertwining. She stared at their joined hands. At the calluses on his fingers. At the way he held on.
"I meant what I said last night," Jace said softly.
The words hurt even before she heard them.
She nodded anyway. "I know."
"What you did wasn't okay."
"I know."
He squeezed her hand. "Myah—"
"No." She swallowed before forcing herself to meet his eyes. "I need to say it."
Because she'd spent too much of her life running from uncomfortable truths. Too much of her life hiding behind jokes and distractions and chaos. Not this time.
"What I did was awful."
Jace remained silent. Listening.
"I told myself it wasn't a big deal." She laughed bitterly. "Then I told myself it was funny." Another shake of her head. "Then I told myself I'd tell you eventually." Her throat tightened. "But every day it got harder."
His expression softened. "Myah—"
"I never meant for it to become this. It started as a bet, but I fell for you.” Her eyes blurred. "And by then, I didn't know what to do."
"You could've told me." Jace frowned, his dark brows drawing together.
"I know." More tears escaped. “I’m sorry.”
He brushed one away with his thumb. The gesture nearly destroyed her. Because he still cared even after everything.
"I was scared." The confession emerged broken. "Scared you'd leave."
His expression twisted.
"I know that's stupid." Myah pulled her hand away from Jace.
"It isn't," he rebutted.
She blinked, confused.
Jace sighed. "I get it."
The words surprised her. His gaze dropped to her hand as he grabbed it once again. "I was scared too."
"What?" Myah looked at him confused.
He laughed quietly. "Do you really think I wasn't?"
She only stared. What’d he done wrong? What could he have been scared of?
Jace shook his head. "You walked into my life and suddenly everything changed." His voice remained calm. "I liked seeing you every day." A smile tugged at his mouth. "I liked your ridiculous texts."
"Rude."
"I liked hearing you laugh and drinking your coffee." He smiled and she squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.
His eyes found hers again. "When you told me the truth, it felt like the floor disappeared."
Her chest ached and she looked down in shame.
"I didn't know what was real anymore."
The honesty hurt. Because she understood. Because she'd done that to him.
"I deserved every angry thing you said," Myah admitted.
Jace shook his head. "No." His voice remained firm. "What you did was wrong."
She nodded.
"But I'm not interested in punishing you for it."
The words stole her breath as his thumb brushed over her knuckles. "I just needed you to understand why it hurt."
"I do."
A long silence followed. Then Jace smiled slightly. "Good."
She laughed through tears. "Good?"
"Good." Jace nodded with a smile.
"That's your emotional breakthrough response?"
"It is."
"You suck at feelings."
"Kettle meet pot." Jace cocked a brow.
Another laugh escaped her, this one lighter. She watched as Jace's shoulders relaxed. The tension that had lingered since last night finally seemed to loosen.
"Myah."
"Yeah?"
His expression turned serious again. "You know what the worst part was?"
She braced herself. "What?"
"I still missed you." The confession hit harder than anything else. His eyes held hers. Steady and vulnerable. "I was angry and hurt, but I still wanted to call you."
Her heart threatened to explode. "I missed you too."
His smile returned. "Oh, I know."
"Oh yeah?” Myah teased.
"You left me seventeen voicemails."
Her face dropped into her hands. "Oh my God."
"They got progressively less coherent," Jace added, clearly loving this.
"I'm moving."
"I particularly enjoyed the one where you threatened to show up at my house in nothing if it meant I’d talk to you."
The groan that escaped her was immediate and Jace laughed. The sound filled the room, all warm and familiar before he shifted closer. Close enough that their shoulders touched.
"Myah." The way he said her name made her stomach flutter.
"Yeah?" She looked up at him, into his green eyes and beautiful lashes.
"I love you," he admitted.
Everything stopped. The room. The air. Her heartbeat. For one impossible second she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move.
Jace looked terrified. As if he regretted saying it. As if he thought she'd run.
Idiot. Wonderful idiot. A laugh escaped her followed immediately by tears. "Oh my God."
His eyes widened. "You don't have to say it back."
"You absolute idiot."
"That's not exactly the response I was hoping for." Jace frowned, but Myah could see a smirk hiding behind his eyes.
She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight.
His arms wrapped around her instantly.
"I love you too." The words came out muffled against his shoulder. But he heard them. She felt the way he froze and felt his grip tighten.
"Yeah?" Jace seemed almost surprised.
She pulled back enough to look at him. "Yeah."
A smile spread slowly across his face. Beautiful, unstoppable. The kind of smile that always felt like sunlight.
"So." Myah wiped her eyes.
"So." Jace cleared his throat. His ears were turning red.
Adorable.
"Would you maybe want to officially go out with me?"
She blinked, "Are you asking me on a date?"
"Maybe."
"You told me you loved me before asking me out?" Myah knew she was maybe teasing too hard, especially after something so personal, but she couldn’t help herself.
His face grew redder. "I may have done things out of order." He rolled his eyes. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"
Myah grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. "Yes."
Relief flooded his face. "Thank God.”
She leaned in and kissed him. Running her fingers through his hair. And for the first time in weeks—maybe longer—everything felt right. The hurt still existed and so did the mistakes, but so did the honesty and forgiveness. So did love.
Jace pulled her closer, wrapping his large hands around her waist before pulling away and shifting so they were sitting side by side again. She rested her head against his shoulder. The repaired closet door stood quietly across the room.
A small, silly thing. But somehow it mattered. Because maybe healing looked like that. Not grand gestures or miracles. Just showing up. Again and again. Fixing what you could and loving what you couldn't. And for the first time in a very long time, Myah believed they could.