A/N: Hey, guys! Thank you so much for all the reviews; I love to know people are enjoying my story. Only two more chapters to go (I'm starting to get sad).
Chapter Twenty-One: Risk It All
His elbow was swollen. It was at least two sizes bigger than normal and when he needed to bend it, he wanted to scream in pain; he tried not to move his arm too much, but it was hard without a brace. Leaning his head against the mirror in his bathroom, Keith took in shuddering a breath to try and calm down.
What was he going to do? He knew he should do something, but what? Calling his aunt was out of the question and Natalie hadn't called him back, even after calling her almost a dozen times last night. He had stopped calling her when he finally got the message: she didn't want to talk to him.
Sighing to himself, he knew the best thing to do was go to school, even if he didn't feel very well (he almost felt like he might have a fever, but he was pretty sure that was because of his injured arm). As much as he didn't want to go to school (the thought of putting an act on all day seemed exhausting) he definitely didn't want to stay holed up in his room all day with the possibility of Jake showing up at any time. And plus, he was pretty sure if he didn't show up to school, they'd call his aunt and then she'd have questions.
What he needed was a miracle. A miracle his elbow was only sprained and all he needed to do was ice it for a few nights and it would be miraculously better by Friday when his aunt got home.
He wasn't hoping too much for one, though; he didn't have a great track record for miracles.
Getting ready for school was a long process. It took him twice as long, and by the time he was about to leave he was already ten minutes late to class. Leaning his ear against his bedroom door, Keith listened for movement upstairs for a few seconds before he unlocked his door and let himself out. Once in the kitchen, he fed Bailey and let him outside before he walked to the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of Advil. He was pretty sure he'd needing the medicine throughout the day.
By the time he got to school, he was thirty minutes late to class. He ignored his classmates as he grabbed his chemistry test from Mr. Miles (he hadn't studied and silently cursed himself for even bothering to show up for his first class) and made his way to his seat next to Natalie.
Every few seconds, she glanced at him. Keith could tell she was trying not to be caught, but she wasn't very sneaky. Ignoring the worried looks she was giving him, he grabbed a pencil from his backpack and set to work on his exam. Hopefully, he could answer a few of the questions.
But when he went to write his name on the test, pain shot all the way from his elbow and up to his shoulder. Biting his lip to hide a groan of pain, he quietly sighed. He was screwed. His elbow had to be broken.
He couldn't even write.
Jake was over when Keith got home. Not wanting to be near him, Keith parked his truck on the side of the road and crawled through his bedroom window instead. He had been hoping Jake wasn't over; he wanted to get some ice for his arm, but it seemed he would either have to be brave at some point and go upstairs or hope Jake would leave. Keith was pretty sure he was going to spend the night again. He wondered where Jake even lived; the guy was a mystery as far as Keith was concerned.
The rest of the night, Keith listened for signs of Jake as he lay in bed and tried to watch TV. He was so scared Jake would come barging into his room again he couldn't get himself to sleep. And his body wanted to sleep; last night he hadn't been able to fall asleep after the incident with Jake and given the fact he hadn't sleep much the whole week he was due for at least a few hours of rest. But he was too scared. Around midnight Keith gained enough courage and crept upstairs. He was starving and needed to find something to eat.
Once in the kitchen, he froze. Jake was on the couch asleep. Quietly, Keith grabbed fixings for a sandwich and a few sodas and went downstairs. He'd have to do without the ice; getting some would definitely wake Jake up.
As he made himself a few sandwiches in his room, Keith thought of Natalie and wondered if she really would call Melissa when she found he didn't.
He remembered the scared look in her eyes, the determination in her voice and it worried him because she might actually call his aunt and tell her everything. And he wasn't sure he could handle the conversation with his aunt that was sure to follow.
At school on Thursday, Keith ignored Natalie. When he saw her in the hallways he bolted in the opposite direction. In the classes they had together he made sure to seem busy and to not catch her gaze. Keith could tell she wanted to talk to him, but she didn't make that much of an effort to, which surprised him. Her actions made him wonder if maybe she was giving him more time. Not willing to find out, he skipped his last class of the day—gym—for two reasons. Firstly, he knew if Natalie did want to talk to him, gym was the best time and place for the opportunity. Yesterday, he had known she wanted to talk to him, just by the way she had been glancing at him throughout gym; he hadn't been that surprised she showed up at his locker after school let out. Secondly, he didn't want to explain to his teacher why he couldn't participate.
Instead, he drove to The Pancake Hut and spent the afternoon (he wasn't in any hurry to go to his aunt's with Jake there) eating Mystery Pie. He tried to do some homework, but couldn't get himself to concentrate very well; his mind was on Natalie and what he was going to do about his situation once his aunt got home.
It was dark when Keith got to his aunt's. He let out a relived sigh when he realized Jake wasn't over and parked his truck in the garage, excited for the opportunity to get some ice for his arm.
But when he walked through the garage door, his breath caught in his throat and he froze. Sitting at the kitchen table was Natalie and his aunt.
Whipping his head in Natalie's direction he hissed, "You called her?"
"I'm sorry," cried Natalie, voice thick with tears. Her eyes were red and there were tear tracks on her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Keith, but I had to—"
"No, you didn't," he growled, anger filling him. "You had no right. You can't just ignore me for a month and then feel like you have the right to call my aunt and tell her—"
"Keith," interjected Melissa, "calm down. Please sit down. We have a lot to talk about."
"No." This was not happening. His aunt was never suppose to find out about Jake, but now he was pretty sure Natalie had told her everything. "No," he said defiantly, frantically shaking his head. "I'm not talking,"
At this, he spun around and went to leave. The mantra run run run, was rushing through his mind and all he thought to do was escape. He only managed to touch the doorknob when his aunt spoke up. "Keith, sit down." Her voice was demanding and sharp. "I don't care if you don't want to talk. You will."
He spun around. "You can't make me talk! I never want to talk!" he screamed, so loudly his voice broke. "This is bullshit. You can't make me talk if I don't want to." He stopped talking to take in gulps of air. He felt like he was about to have a panic attack.
"I don't care," said his aunt, her tone soft. "Sweetie, for the past six months I haven't made you talk and unfortunately I think that was a mistake. You will sit down at this table and talk to me. Talk to me so I can fix things."
For a few seconds, Keith stood there, staring at the floor, considering his options. Sure, he could run away from all of this. But how long would that last? He'd have to come back at some point. And when he came back? He'd have to talk.
Keith dropped his backpack on the floor in defeat before making his way to the kitchen table. He sat down in a chair between Natalie and Melissa, making sure not to look either in the eye. He could hear Natalie sniffling and knew she was still crying.
"Natalie called me this morning and suggested I come home early," started Melissa. "She said Jake's been hurting you? Is this true?" His aunt's voice, which had started authoritative and controlled, turned thick with tears.
Keith shrugged. He really didn't want to tell the truth. Because it would break his aunt. Break her. How easy would it be to just say 'no'? But the problem was he wanted the stuff with Jake to end. Really, really wanted to stop being scared in a place that was suppose to be his home. "Maybe once or twice," he mumbled, trailing his fingers over the dark grain of the kitchen table. He chanced a quick look at his aunt's reaction to this. Her face crumpled and it looked like she was having a hard time preventing tears.
"When did this start?" his aunt asked, her voice high-pitched and almost verging on frantic.
"We never really got along," was Keith's answer. "He never really liked me."
"So," started Melissa slowly, "since the beginning?"
Taking a deep breath he admitted, "Pretty much."
Melissa took a few seconds to ask the next question. "Natalie said he hurt your arm. Is this true? What other stuff has he done?"
Squeezing his eyes shut, because he had hoped she wouldn't ask for this kind of detail, he sat up straighter in his chair and said, "Does it really mater?"
"Of course it matters!" cried his aunt. "It matters because my boyfriend has been hurting my nephew and I had no idea. That is child abuse." At this statement, she let out a small sob and covered her face with her hand. It took her a few seconds to calm herself, and when she did, she muttered, defeated, "I need to know everything that happened. Everything."
Taking his attention off the kitchen table, he glanced at Natalie—who looked extremely guilty—before looking at his aunt. "It wasn't that bad," he started, because he hated how his aunt looked—so broken. "I mean, at first he just pushed me around and yelled. He slapped me a few times, that was mostly it until a few days ago. Tuesday he dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night. He dragged me up to the top of the stairs and started yelling and…he pushed me around, too. I was half asleep, but I lost my balance and I fell down the stairs. That's how I hurt my arm; it slammed against the wall," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. The way his aunt was looking at him, he knew she was blaming herself. And if there was one thing Keith had learned in the past six months was what a horrible, horrible emotion blame was. It could destroy a person; it had him, he was pretty sure. Blame could eat away at a person until they were left with nothing but the blame itself. He didn't want that for his aunt. "I didn't think it was that bad—my arm—but it's not getting better. I can't move it now."
Tears were building in his aunt's eyes and she asked, sounding broken, "Why didn't you tell me? The first time he yelled at you, hurt you, why didn't you come to me?"
"I don't know," said Keith softly, but the truth was he did know. After a few seconds of silence, and before his aunt could speak up, he admitted the truth. "He threatened me," he muttered, but he knew his voice was loud enough for her to hear. "He said you would get rid of me—I have no where else to go— and that you blamed me for the accident, for killing Mom." There was a stinging behind his eyes and tightness in his throat. He wished he had some water. "I'm so sorry," he breathed. "I blame myself every day for the accident. Every day. I wish I could take it back but I can't. I'm so sorry I killed your sister. I—" And, suddenly, without warning, he started crying. He felt embarrassed, but he couldn't stop. He was crying so hard—big, fat tears rolling down his cheeks—he couldn't catch his breath. His shoulders racked with sobs and he hid his face in his hands.
He had never cried like this before. Not even that time in his old bedroom in Michigan. Nothing compared to this. He wondered when the tears would stop; they just kept on coming. He wanted them to stop, because Natalie was here and what would she think of him now?
He wasn't sure how long he had been crying—at least five minutes—before a hand was suddenly on his back and making soothing circles. For once, he didn't push the comfort away. "Oh no, sweetie," said Melissa, voice soft and calming, "it's okay. First off," she continued, "I will never, ever get rid of you. I love you so much. So much. Secondly, I have never blamed you for the accident. Not once. It had never crossed my mind. And I don't want you blaming yourself either. Keith, no one blames you for what happened to your parents. It was a horrible accident, and all you are is a boy who lost his parents way too young. Do you understand? Please, Keith, look at me and tell me you understand. That you believe me."
Keith couldn't believe what he had heard. Even though he was still crying, he felt relieved. Slowly, he lifted his head from his hands and with tears streaming down his cheeks he answered, "I believe you." And he did. Relief left him almost instantly; he had no idea how much the thought of his aunt blaming him had affected him. The blame had been suffocating him. And now she had confessed she didn't blame him?
He could finally breathe.
Sun was shining through his curtains when Keith woke. This fact woke him up almost instantly. Today was Friday—a school day—it was supposed to still be dark out, which meant he had slept in. Quickly sitting up in bed, Keith checked the time on his phone. It was ten-thirty in the morning. Scrambling out of bed, he went upstairs to see if Melissa was home; he thought she might be considering she left her work trip early.
As soon as this thought crossed his mind, the events of last night came flooding back to him and he halted halfway up the stairs. Embarrassment flooded through him. Even after his aunt had told him she didn't blame him for the accident, he hadn't been able to stop crying. And he had tried. Even now, he wasn't entirely sure why he had broken down like that. He wondered if it had to do with the fact he had never really cried for the death of his parents. Maybe he had held his emotions in too long and when he finally let himself cry, he hadn't been able to stop. Even so, he was still embarrassed.
He had cried in front of his aunt. And Natalie.
Natalie. He remembered her leaving with a soft goodbye, red eyes, and a concerned expression. Not being able to stop crying—and too embarrassed anyway—he had let her leave without a goodbye. After she had left, Melissa made him take a sleeping pill and go to bed. And for the first time in a long, long time, he had fallen asleep quickly and slept the whole night. For once, he felt semi-rested. He figured it would take a week of sleep like he had last night to feel completely rested, and he wasn't sure when that would happen. Just because he had finally talked to his aunt didn't mean the nightmares would stop. But he was thankful he had least was able to sleep.
He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of his aunt yelling. He found her in her office upstairs, hissing into her cell phone. She was obviously trying hard to be quiet, but wasn't doing a very good job. Standing at the entrance of the room, Keith listened as she spoke, voice increasing in volume with every sentence, "Don't you dare leave your house. You did this and you will pay for it. No, I said—" Her voice stopped suddenly and she flung her phone across the room; it hit the wall with a loud crash.
"What's going on?" wondered Keith.
Melissa spun around in her chair and Keith could see the tears in her eyes. "Honey, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have called him, but I had so much I needed to say to that bastard. And now. Now, he's running away."
"Were you talking to Jake?"
Melissa nodded. "I was so mad, so angry at what he had done to you; I called him on it. I shouldn't have. I don't know what I was thinking. I told him I was calling the cops on him, and he said it would be pointless because he's running. I screwed up, but I just wanted to understand why. Why did he do it? How could he do it?"
Keith didn't know what to do. He hadn't even begun to think what Melissa was going to do after he had told her about Jake. He hadn't thought she would be this drastic and call the cops. He had expected her to break up with him. But not this. Getting the cops involved was serious.
He felt bad, because here was his aunt who in less than a day had lost the man she loved, had learned what a lie their relationship had been. Even though Jake had done something horrible, Keith knew it was impossible to stop loving someone just like that. Surprising himself, Keith found himself walking over to his aunt, bending down to her level, and pulling her into a one-armed hug (his right arm was pretty much useless). "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry Jake turned out to be a jerk."
She pulled him closer. "I had no idea he was hurting you, Keith. Please forgive me."
"I forgive you. But just so you know, I never blamed you, so please don't blame yourself."
Reluctantly, she pulled away to look Keith in the eyes. "Okay," she smiled. "But can you promise me from now on you'll talk to me?" Not being able to prevent it, Keith made a face and Melissa quickly added, "Okay, how about this: promise me you'll talk to me when it's something important."
"I'll try," he said. He didn't promise her, because he didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep.
Melissa's shoulder sagged in relief. "Thank you. You do realize no guy is more important to me than you, right?" A lopsided grin appeared on his face; he couldn't help it. Melissa smiled at the sight of Keith's and she said, "Let me see your arm. We'll probably have to go to hospital today to get it checked out."
Keith groaned at this, but still angled his right arm so she could inspect it. All it took was Keith to jerk his arm and groan in pain when she touched his elbow for the decision to be made. Melissa stood up and said, "Sorry, honey, but the hospital it is. We'll have breakfast and then go."
As Keith sat down at the kitchen table to watch his aunt cook French toast, he couldn't help but be incredibly relieved and… almost happy with the events that had transpired in the last twelve hours. He didn't have to worry about Jake coming over anymore. He wasn't completely there yet, but he could see himself in the future going to his aunt if he had problems and feeling comfortable doing so. Ever since he had moved into his aunt's house he hadn't felt comfortable. But now he did and thought maybe he wasn't far away from finally starting consider her house his home.
"Well," started Dr. Owen "I have good news and bad news." He took two x-rays and hung them up on a board. Keith squinted his eyes at them.
"He doesn't need surgery, does he?" worried Melissa, leaning forward to look at the photos. Keith glanced over to his aunt. She was sitting in the seat next the bed he was in, frantically biting on her well-manicured nails as she tried to read the x-rays.
"No, he escaped the dreaded surgery. However," he started, pointing his finger toward a spot on the x-ray. "His humerus is fractured. See here?" He tapped a spot on the x-ray. Keith thought he could see the fracture.
"What does that mean?" asked Melissa.
"He'll need a cast and a sling. We'll see him back here in three weeks."
"Okay," breathed Melissa. "That doesn't sound so bad."
"Great," said Dr. Owen, "I'll get one of my nurses to come in and put the cast on and explain care to you." He turned to Keith. "Feel better and don't fall down anymore stairs. Got that?"
"I'll try not to," mumbled Keith, making sure to glance away from Melissa. He was pretty sure Melissa wasn't happy he had lied to the doctor about how he had fallen down the stairs (was it really that important?). "Oh, wait," called Keith, just as Dr. Owen was about to leave the room. "Can I drive like this?" Ever since this morning, an idea had been forming in his mind and the answer to this question would decide if it was something he could take action on now or have to wait for.
Dr. Owen nodded. "Sure, the cast will keep you from moving the humerus, but you can still maneuver it enough for driving. Just be careful."
"Careful, definitely," nodded Keith and he actually smiled.
Twenty minutes later, Keith followed his aunt out of the hospital. Melissa halted as soon as they were out of the building. Turning to face Keith she said, squinting against the sun, "How about we go to lunch? I'm craving a burger."
Keith laughed and nodded in agreement, knowing lunch would be the perfect time to tell his aunt his idea.
Keith waited until their food was delivered before he stated bluntly, "I want to go to Michigan."
Melissa eyes got wide and she swallowed before she said, "Really? What brought this on?"
With his good arm, he shrugged. "Knowing I need to go see my parents house, one last time, has been on my mind a lot. Ever since you told me you hadn't sold it. I just—I think I need to start working on learning to move on from what happened to Mom and Dad. I've been forcing myself to not think about my parents, about the accident, and about how my life changed. And that needs to stop. I need to force myself to move on so I can start to live my life. I think going to my house one last time is a good first step to take." He took a sip of his Coke before taking a huge bite of his burger. "So why not now?"
"I think this is an excellent idea, Keith. We can go whenever we want. Tomorrow even."
Taking a deep breath, a little afraid of Melissa's reaction Keith stated, "I want to go alone."
"Alone?"
Nodding, Keith explained, "I've thought about it and I really think this is something I need to do alone. I could be completely wrong, but right now I feel like this is a step I have to do by myself."
For a few seconds, Melissa was silent and Keith was sure she was going to say no, but then surprising him she said, "I'll make you a deal."
"What kind of deal?" asked Keith, heart racing. He was surprised at how much he wanted to be able to go to Michigan. Or at least get his aunt's approval. He was pretty sure even if she told him he couldn't go, he would.
"We call Al and see what he says. If he says you can go, then I'm all for it."
"Really?" He couldn't help how happy his voice sounded.
"I think this will be good for you."
It was just before ten Saturday morning and Keith was pulling on a hoodie as Melissa hovered near him. It took a while to get his injured arm through the sleeve, but when he finally pulled the sweater over his head, his aunt asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to come?" Raising his eyebrows, Keith stared at his aunt. "Okay, okay! I get it. You want to do this alone. But, Keith, I'm worried this trip will be more emotional than you anticipate. I know Al said it was okay but…"
"I guess I'll find out."
Melissa didn't look convinced. "So you have all the information for the hotel I gave you? And the money?"
"Yup," answered Keith, nodding toward his backpack. He would have to spend the night in a hotel since his aunt had turned the electricity and water off in his parents' house.
"And the keys to your house?"
"Yes, Aunt Melissa. I'll be fine. And I promise you I'll you when I get to the hotel."
"I know, I know," she muttered. "You leaving just makes me so nervous, especially since you haven't driven much and your arm is injured. But," she continued, "I trust you."
Keith smiled. "Thanks," he said as he bent down and grabbed backpack, but when he glanced back to his aunt and saw the expression on her face he asked, trepidation in his voice, "What?"
"I just have one more thing and then you can go on your way."
"Okay…"
"It's about Natalie."
At this, Keith tensed. "What about Natalie?" She hadn't tried to contact him the past day after his breakdown and he didn't contact her, even though he wanted to. He didn't call her because he felt like she should be the one to initiate a conversation; she had asked for space and he'd give it to her until she was ready.
"I think you should call her. When you get back."
"No," he said, frantically shaking his head. "Absolutely not."
"Honey, she wants to be your friend. I think she's just lost and doesn't know how to start talking to you again. She cares about you. If she didn't, she wouldn't have called me. Spent two hours talking to me. Crying because she was so worried about you."
"I'm pretty sure she only talked to you because she felt obligated."
Melissa looked sad. "At least think about it?"
"I'll think about it," he answered. And he did. For two seconds. His answer was still the same as it had been a few minutes ago.
"Great, thank you, Keith. Maybe when you get back you can call her."
"Yeah, maybe."
He couldn't go in.
The sun was setting and he knew he didn't have much time left before darkness took over, but he just couldn't get himself to get out of his car and walk into his house. He had been parked in the driveway for the last hour, and hadn't even managed to get out of his truck. He didn't know what was wrong with him and he hated himself for it because he was suppose to be moving on. And if he couldn't even go into his old house, what did that say about how well he'd be able to move on?
He wouldn't be able to. He'd be stuck in this permanent sadness for the rest of his life. Hadn't he suffered enough? Didn't he deserve to move on and learn how to life without his parents? To have a life again?
When the sun finally disappeared, Keith admitted defeat and drove away, feeling disappointed and pathetic. He had hoped this trip would be a turning point for him, but all it had done for him so far was send him back to where he had been emotionally three days ago.
On his way to the hotel, Keith stopped at a fast food restaurant to get a burger and fries. He didn't feel particularity hungry, but knew he needed to eat.
When he got to his room—which was actually extremely nice—he called his aunt. She answered after the first ring. "Are you okay?"
No, he wanted to say, but he couldn't. He couldn't because he didn't want to disappoint her. "I'm fine," he said, voice dry.
"What happened?"
Keith sighed, because he knew she would be able to detect how upset he was just by hearing his voice. "I couldn't go in," he admitted. "I sat there for an hour and couldn't even get out of my car."
"Oh, sweetie," sighed Melissa. "I'm so sorry. Don't think about it too much, okay? Try and get a good night's sleep. I think you'll be surprised how much easier tomorrow will be."
"Easier?" choked Keith. "If I couldn't go in today, what makes you think tomorrow will be any better?"
"Just trust me on this, okay?"
"Okay," said Keith hesitantly. He hoped his aunt was right, but he was pretty sure a miracle would have to happen for him to have the courage to walk inside his parents' house.
As he turned on the television and ate his food, he wished his aunt had come with him. Because he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to do this alone.
"Hello?" answered Keith, voice dry and thick with sleep. He had been woken up abruptly by the hotel phone in is his room; he didn't think it was possible for a phone to ring that loud. At first he had ignored the ringing, thinking someone had the wrong number, but when it rang again he had rolled over and answered the phone, half asleep.
"Mr. Zetterstrom?" He made a grunt in acknowledgement. "This is Gabe at the front desk. I have a visitor here for you."
This statement woke Keith up more. "What?" he asked. "Are you sure you have the right room?" As soon as he asked this, he knew he had been a stupid question. Of course he knew; Gabe had used his last name.
"Keith Zetterstrom, correct?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "Uh, who is it?" Sitting up in bed, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Twelve forty-five in the morning.
"She didn't give me her name. Would you please come down to see her?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Keith. "I'll be right down."
When he walked into the hotel lobby the person standing in the middle of the room wasn't his aunt like he expected but Natalie. Keith halted his footsteps and stared at her. Her hair was wild from the wind outside and her cheeks were red from the cold; she looked a little frazzled but was so beautiful.
Natalie caught sight of Keith and started walking toward him. They met each other halfway across the room. "What are you doing here?" he asked when they were only standing only a few feet from each other.
Placing the green suitcase she had been holding on the ground she said simply and confidently, "I needed to see you."
"At midnight in another state? You couldn't wait until Monday at school?"
"No," said Natalie quickly. "I-I just really needed to see you."
"Did my aunt tell you I was here?"
Natalie nodded. "Yeah, she did. After I begged her."
Scratching the back of his neck nervously Keith said, "Okay."
For a few seconds after there was silence between them, but then Natalie started, in a chocked, pained voice, "Keith, seeing you cry like that Thursday night broke my heart. I—" She stopped when Keith lifted his good arm to his face, trying to shield himself. Why did she have to bring up one of the weakest moments of his life; he was hoping she would never talk about that night. Ever. "No, no," she said soothingly, gently wrapping her hand around his wrist and forcing his hand down. "Don't be embarrassed—"
"A little late for that," he muttered, cheeks burning and red.
"You were not weak," emphasized Natalie. Keith wondered how she knew what he thought of himself. She had always been able to do that though, to some extent, read him. Instances when he had thought he was shielding his emotions, she had always been able to see right though him. "Crying doesn't make a person weak. All I saw that night, Keith, was a boy who was in so much pain. And part of that pain was because of me and that—that was a horrible realization."
"You weren't the reason I cried," muttered Keith, but Natalie shook her head not believing him.
"But I was. If only I wouldn't have treated you so horribly for the past month. When you told me about your parents, when you finally told me about the worse day of your life, I should've let you talk and explain yourself. Instead, I pushed you away when you needed someone. I wasn't there for you and I can't forgive myself for that."
"But I lied to you."
"Yes," she said, and Keith was glad she didn't deny this. "You did, but I'm sure you had a good reason, right? And I should've asked you why. I should've let you talk about it, but I didn't. Instead, I let myself come up with crazy scenarios and I wasn't fair to you. And I'm so sorry," she brought her hand up to her mouth, letting out a small sob.
Lower lip trembling Keith said, "I didn't tell you because at first I just couldn't. I couldn't admit it. Then when we became friends I wanted to tell you but I thought you'd blame me and stop being my friend. And what I needed the most was a friend, so I didn't risk it. I already blamed myself and the thought of more people blaming me for it was something I couldn't handle."
Natalie closed the distance between them. Then, she stood on her tiptoes and placed both her hands on the side of his face. "I don't blame you. Please, please promise me you will stop blaming yourself."
"I don't know if I can," he admitted.
"I'll help you," replied Natalie desperately. "If you'll let me."
"What does that mean?" asked Keith.
Removing her hands from his face, Natalie said, eyes shining with want and also fear. "What I'm trying to say, Keith, is if you can forgive me for what I've done, I want to be with you. I need you in my life. I have never felt this way for someone and I don't want to push it away."
"I do forgive you," said Keith. "And I want to be with you. But I'm—I have too many issues, Natalie, you don't want to be with me." He wanted to be with her, so much, but he felt like he needed to be honest with her this time. When they had first agreed to be together, he should have told her everything then. This time, he wasn't going to hold back; he was going to tell her what to expect. "I can't sleep, I have nightmares almost every night, some days I'm so depressed I don't even want to get out of bed. I'm not over my parents death, and I'm not sure when I will be. I—"
"If you don't want to get out of bed, then I'll stay in bed with you. I want to be with you through everything. I want to be there when you're sad, when you're happy, when you just need someone. I want to be that girl."
"Really?" breathed Keith, almost shocked at what he was hearing. For once, he had been completely honest with her and she wasn't walking away.
"Really. Keith," she added, biting her lower lip. "I want to be with you. I love you and—"
"I love you, too," he said, not letting her finish. She didn't need to say anything else; she had said all he needed to hear.
As Keith leaned down and kissed Natalie—right in the middle of the hotel lobby—he made a decision.
Loving someone was risky. But what was life without love? What was life if he didn't let himself love someone? It wasn't really living. So he was going to risk heartbreak—push away all his concerns and fears—and let himself love her.
A/N: I hope you guys liked the chapter. I had fun writing this one! Please review and let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading!