Chapter 21- The Letter

*All rights to Kiera Cass*

Virtue01- No lie, I cried writing this-it hurt. But the story definitely needed it and i'm super excited for y'all to read this next chapter.

Aaksupertrooper- happy you liked it!

Fangirl5300- ahahaha girl i feel-i read a heck of a lot of fanfics with cruel plot twists and would say the exact same thing! Hope you like this chapter!

DBZfanLou- it's so funny because i say the exact same thing as a reader but then revel in publishing the pain as a writer? Anyway i'm so happy you enjoyed it!

BlissfulBillie- we all know she does that sometimes ;)

Guest- hehe just wait

Aubreylovesthegames- this one made me laugh too bc honestly me too

Gummybear1178- exactly! i feel this comment so hard ahaha

LadyMadisonSchreve- that is so sweet girl! I love that idea (bc it's so true which i didn't realize until i started writing lol) also your review is so nice again so thank you :)

HUGEmarvelnerd1- ahh thank you!

BookLoverIsGoingInsane- you're not alone lol and thank you so much!

Sk8rgirl- thank YOU for commenting! Keeps me going fr!

To all of you that read, liked, followed, favorited, or reviewed BC thank you forever and ever. I love y'all so much and i'm so incredibly thankful that you guys like this story. Your reviews over the years have truly kept me going with this story even when I wasn't sure how to. This never would be what it is without y'all. thank you forever for giving me that

Y'all like I said, last chapter HURT to write. But I genuinely think that Maxerica needed to fall back into character a little bit (Ames jumping to conclusions, Max being a lil dense and secretive) so we could really grow. I'm going to warn you, it gets worse before it gets better. That being said, I sat down to write and this chapter just spilled out and I ended up with almost 3,000 words in this chapter. It's a long one and one that I am so so proud of and excited for you to read this chapter. Also general life update-I'm doing pretty well. I am obsessed with folklore by Taylor Swift so if you haven't listened to it yet, run. Also if you want to have an even more fully immersive experience reading this, i would highly recommend epiphany, peace, this is me trying, or exile from the album. They fit the vibe. also look at me updating quickly :) couldn't keep you hanging on that cliff for too long! Happy reading and i love y'all again!

Without further ado… Chapter 21- The Letter

"Where are we going, Maxon?" I sighed.

He glanced back at me. "I need to talk to you. You ran out before I could say anything earlier."

I frowned. "That's not what I asked."

Maxon ignored me and kept walking. I pulled my hand from his grip and stood still. Maxon turned after a moment, as if realizing that I wasn't following him anymore. A question was written on his face. I ignored it. He should know.

"Where are we going?" I ground out, crossing my arms across my chest.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I just…" Maxon trailed off.

I shook my head. My vision blurred slightly and I pressed my hands to my face to hide the tears I knew would come. "It's late, Maxon and I'm tired. Just say what you want to say so I can go to bed. We have to get up early tomorrow."

"You said you missed the rain." He murmured as if reminding himself."I thought… I don't know. Will you just come with me, America?"

I swallowed hard and looked at my feet.

He stepped forward and grabbed my hand. "Please, America?"

I looked up, ready to say no, ready to tell him that he didn't get to ask me that anymore. I was so ready to turn around until I met his eyes. God, I loved those eyes. Maxon's eyes were my hearth fire this whole time, but it was the slight desperation and pain glimmering in his eyes that made me nod my head instead. The relief that flooded his eyes almost made it worth the pain that I knew would come from this.

I didn't need Maxon to spell it out for me. I knew. I had known for far too long. He didn't need to break my heart anymore than he already had. But his eyes never looked like that. And it let me hope in a way that I knew would make it even worse when he finally did tell me.

Maxon pulled me back through the darkened halls and up a set of marble steps. He looked back at me with the look of boyish innocence and excitement I fell in love with. "It's just through here," he said.

I nodded. He bent down to fit through the low door frame. I followed him silently and he eased open a heavy metal door. Rain drumming against the ground met my ears.

I stepped forward, reaching out a hand towards the inky night. I turned back to meet Maxon's eyes. "It's so beautiful." I breathed.

Maxon nodded, a sad smile etched on his face. "It's the roof. I've been wanting to show you this for a while now. There wasn't ever a good chance, but… of course you would find beauty in something that most people say ruins a day. I figured-I thought. Well now is as good a time as any."

My hands shook. I folded them tightly into my abdomen and turned back to the rain. It didn't seem to have the same magic now. "I know, Maxon. You don't need to say it. I know."

"You know what, America?" Maxon's voice sounded confused. "Because your letter made it sound like you didn't know how I felt."

"I didn't know." I turned around. "And then I did."

Maxon's brows drew together. "What do you mean, America?"

My hands dropped to my side. Maxon could be so dense sometimes. He knew more than I did. He was the one that decided. "I mean-"

I was cut off by the rebel alarm blaring in my ears. Maxon swore. He slammed the door and grabbed my hand. We were out of the room leading to the roof before I could process what was happening. The rebel alarm meant there were rebels in the palace. Rebels.
I froze. Maxon turned-raw panic lining his face. "We have to go, America. There's a safe room down the hall."

I stayed paralyzed in the middle of the hall. North or South. North or South. North or South. "Maxon." I whispered. He glanced up and down the hall before sweeping an arm under my legs. His arms were warm and familiar around me. It almost let me forget that the rebels were here.

Shouting echoed down the hall. My heart pounded. I squirmed in Maxon's grip. We would never be okay if he kept carrying me. "Let me down."

He dropped me to the ground and we sprinted down the hall. Maxon stopped at a panel in the wall and pressed his key to the lock. It didn't move.

I swore and Maxon pulled me to another panel about twenty feet down the hall. It didn't open either. The voices were getting closer. I bit my lip and we kept running.

"They're here!" I heard someone shout. Fear seized my heart but I kept running.

Maxon glanced at me with fear in his eyes at the next safe room door. Gunshots filled the halls. We would die here together with so many unsaid words. Maxon gripped my hand tightly as if to say goodbye. He looked behind me and his face hardened. The safe room door clicked open.

"You go first." Maxon said.

I swallowed and stepped tentatively down the step. Maxon didn't follow me immediately. I turned back frantically. I could hear more gunshots in the hall.

"Maxon," I hissed. "What are you doing? Get in here."

I pulled at his arm. He nodded absent-mindedly and I shut the door behind him. His hand was pressed to his shoulder. "Maxon," I tried to keep the panic from my voice. "Are you okay?"

He met my eyes. His own were glazed and his lips moved soundlessly. I gripped his arms tightly. Maxon winced, blinking.

"No. No. No. No. You don't get to die on me. No." I swallowed hard but the lump in the back of my throat stayed. My lip quivered.

"I'm okay, America. I'm not going to die." Maxon murmured, pulling me into the hollow of his arm. He dropped a kiss on the top of my head. I wanted to stay there. Maxon's arms were safe. But I couldn't get the image of his glazed eyes and that hand still pressed to his shoulder out of my head. He was hurt. I knew he was.

"Maxon, move your hand." I said, stepping out of his embrace.
His hand was bright red. A dark circle stained his white shirt. My stomach dropped.

"Sit down and take off your shirt." My voice felt distant. There was a steadiness and authority in my voice that I didn't feel on the inside. I was already rummaging through the shelves of the safe room for medical supplies.

Maxon grunted. I snapped my head back to his. His eyes met mine almost apologetically. I stopped myself from thinking that he should apologize.

"It seems I need some help." He forced a smile. I didn't return it. My fingers found the bin of medical supplies.

I nodded and hurried back across the room to Maxon. His shirt buttons were easy to undo. "This wasn't exactly how I imagined you taking off my shirt for the first time, darling." Maxon joked.

I didn't laugh. Not when I could see the red stain traveling across his dress shirt. Not when he could die. No, this wasn't time to laugh.

"America," Maxon said gravely. I tilted my head up to look at him. "You need to breathe. You'll be no help to me if you pass out."

I nodded, breathing deeply. Maxon squeezed my hands. I hadn't realized he had taken them. "Again," Maxon nodded. I followed his instructions.

I nodded hesitantly. "How do you feel?"

Maxon didn't answer immediately. I bit my lip. "I've been worse," he ground out.

I started to pull his shirt away. The fabric clung to Maxon's shoulder and made a sucking sound. Maxon winced again. I froze for a moment before I saw him motioning me to continue. Like ripping off a bandaid, I tried to tell myself.. Maxon will be fine. Everything will be fine.

I gasped when I saw his back. Maxon stiffened. Scars criss-crossed over his back like ribbons. Some lines stood out thicker than others like someone had opened the same wounds over and over again. I could only imagine how much it hurt. Maxon wasn't kidding when he said he'd been worse. If these scars were any indication, he had been much, much worse before.

He whispered a swear under his breath and reached behind him for my hand. "They're old wounds, America. Don't worry about them."

I bit my lip and nodded before I remembered that he was facing the other direction. Focus, America. His shoulder was still bleeding, but the bullet had only grazed him and he probably wouldn't need stitches. It wasn't hard to bandage and even if he did need stitches, the loop in the first aid kit for the needle and thread was empty. Bandaging Maxon's bullet wound almost reminded me of the time Gerad had broken his arm climbing into the treehouse. I let myself fall into that memory to quell my panic.

I tied the loose ends together and fluttered my fingers over the wrapping to make sure it was tight enough. "How's that?" I asked.

Maxon squeezed my hand. "Perfect."

I resisted the urge to glare at him. He was far from perfect. The day filtered back into my mind and I pulled my hand from his, inching away from Maxon on the cot.

"America," Maxon's voice was soft-pleading. "What did you mean earlier?"

I blinked back tears. The pit in my stomach deepened. "What else would I mean, Maxon? That we're over. That you decided we would just be done."

The echo of venom flickered in the back of my voice. Maxon's face fell. He shifted slightly and pulled a creamy envelope from his back pocket. My name was written on it in his handwriting. He pushed it into my hands.

The envelope wasn't sealed. Folded pages fell out. I met Maxon's eye. He nodded. Read it. Please. I swallowed and returned his nod, my eyes already on the paper in my hands.

My darling America,

From the moment I met you on that bench in the garden a night before we were supposed to and you told me you were not my dear, I knew you were it. And then I met all the girls and it only confirmed it. No one has ever held a candle to you. Not one girl. There has only ever been you. I have loved you for so long that I can barely remember what it was to live not loving you. I love you. If there is a God, America I thank Him that He let me find you. He let me love you. And against everything you told me and everything that happened, I thank anyone out there that you love me too.

You are without a doubt the best thing to ever happen to me. You are my light and the love of my life and I cannot imagine a life without you, America. I still don't exactly understand why I said what I did. I still don't understand why I am hesitating to marry you now. After everything. Marrying you is all I want, America, but you just left my room in tears. Finally, nothing is stopping me from ending this, but I don't. I don't even understand it. So please, if you know nothing else, know that I love you.

The color of the ink changed after that as if he kept coming back to this letter and adding the things he wanted to say but didn't. I felt the pad of his thumb brush away a tear and his murmur to keep going.

I can barely look at you, America. I see you everywhere: in the dining room, in the halls, in the doorway connecting my room to the Princess suite, in the gardens, in advisor meetings. In my mind, you are everywhere. But I can't look at you when I do see you, because there's so much pain in your eyes and the curve of your shoulder-pain I know I caused. I am so sorry to have hurt you, my love.

I still see our life so vividly. I see our childrens' peanut butter fingerprints on my desk and laughing in bed with you and a crown on your head. I see the busy seasons and the lazy weekends and the inside jokes and the fights and all of it. I see a life with you. It hurts when I look at your eyes and remember that you don't see that life too. Or if you do, I made you believe it wouldn't happen.

There was another gap in the writing. I glanced up at Maxon, trying to convey the depth of my understanding. That I felt the same way. That I still saw that life too-if he let us have it. He shook his head slightly. It wasn't time to talk yet. There were more words inked on the page.

I tugged my ear today. You didn't tug yours back. Everyday I miss you more. Everyday I know that I cannot keep doing this without you standing next to me. I'm going to get it all organized so I can end it. It's you, America. It's always you.

The page ended halfway through the last note. I grabbed the next page. Another break.

America I thought I lost you again today. The alarm kept going and everyone else was downstairs except you. I thought they had you again. I thought… But you were fine. You are okay. They didn't hurt you again. I knew it was you. I've known for such a long time now, but you walked into the safe room and my heart started beating again. I'm choosing you on Saturday. I hope you choose me too. And you tugged your ear. I've felt rather foolish writing all of these to you. If anyone read these notes for you… I would feel foolish. And you know how much I detest feeling foolish. But America, you tugged your ear. So I will continue being foolish for you. Only you.

There was another break in the writing and a small empty section at the bottom of the page. His last words. His deciding words.

My America,

I read your letter. You came in my room and I thought it was Ben bringing papers my mother needed me to sign for the Choosing Ceremony. And I saw your eyes and then you left. There was so much pain in your eyes. Like you didn't know how much I love you. So let me say it simply. I love you, America. I want to marry you. I want to make you my queen.

I was scared too, my darling. I was so scared of losing you that I almost let you slip through my fingers. But I can't do that. I'm still somewhat scared because I cannot fathom living a life without you in it. I'm scared that I hurt you so badly that you won't say yes when I ask you. I'm scared you won't ever forgive me for making such a colossal mistake. I'm scared that I won't get to see my ring on your finger or your stomach swell with our children. I'm scared.

But fear isn't a good excuse. Fear is no excuse. It would be so much worse to know you're out there living and loving someone else than it would ever be to know we had our happiness. It would be so much worse to never know your favorite birthday present or if you liked a new song that came out. It would be so much worse to live a life without you, America.

So let me be scared to lose you. Let me hear you disagree with a policy. Let me sleep in a different bed when you're angry at me. Let me bring you flowers. Let me deliver strawberry tarts in the morning. Let me hold you while you fall asleep. Let me spend the rest of my life making up for hurting you. Let me. But let me love you too. Let me have a life with you, America.

I promise to spend the rest of my life loving you. I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you know that you will always have me. I promise to spend the rest of my life as your husband if you let me.

I love you, America.

Tugging my ear back,

Your Maxon

"You are the one, America." Maxon's eyes met mine as I looked up and he wiped away more of my tears. "You are the only one. I know I did so many things wrong, but it's still us. Will you let me have a life with you?"

I tried to say yes. I tried to open my mouth and shout of course. But no words came. So I just nodded and he pulled me into his chest. It wasn't until I kissed him later that I realized he had been crying too.