I'd walked that same path north, opened that heavy, wooden door more times than I could count over the past two years. But now, it felt different. Much different. The same door that had once opened to solace now housed one of my greatest fears.

I looked down to my watch and then to the hardcover book I'd been white-knuckling. The library was minutes away from closing, and I knew stopping home to grab my beyond-overdue book was cutting it close. But I wasn't sure if I'd get another chance to return it otherwise, let alone another chance to get Mary alone so soon. I knew I had to take advantage of the fleeting opportunity, despite my feet's reluctance to make a move.

Another minute passed, marking another minute wasted standing awkwardly on the cobblestone in front of the library. I wasn't sure what my plan was or what I was waiting for. As if Mary was going to roll out the welcome wagon because I'd finally decided to get my shit together and show her an inkling of respect.

I expected the opposite of a welcome wagon. Maybe it was best to assume the absolute worst… that I'd be leaving the library having lost Mary for good.

Who am I kidding? Mary was never mine in the first place, and even if she had been, she was already long gone. There was no hope for us, even if I wanted there to be.

Then what's the point of apologizing? To make myself feel better? That seemed selfish.

To make her hate me less? Again, another selfish thought. It wasn't like getting together was ever going to be an option. What did I care if she hated me?

But I don't want Mary to hate me. Which was a bold wish from someone who'd consciously made decisions that probably caused her to do just that.

So I was back at the beginning again: what's the fucking point?

As I traced the curling vines winding up the bricks to the second floor of the library, I thought back to all the time I'd spent in those walls. All the good moments with Mary that I wouldn't trade for the world. She was a constant in my life when I felt like I had nobody else, the person that helped me forget about all the resentment I'd harbored when I was first shipped off to Mineral Town. Mary had undoubtedly been my best friend in a time when I desperately needed one. There were times that I thought I might actually love her, even times I was stupid enough to believe she might love me too. And I'd managed to absolutely fucking crush her in a matter of weeks.

Because I care about her, and she deserves to know the truth. If she hears Claire's pregnant from anybody else… I figured that would probably hurt more than anything.

"She needs to hear it from you," Elli's reminder from earlier was an unsilenceable alarm blaring in the back of my mind.

Telling Mary the truth would take the burden off Elli's shoulders, too… and really anyone else that was keeping the secret for me. I owed it to all of them too.

It didn't matter how Mary would react, how that might compromise our relationship, or what was left of it, at least. Wanting anything else from her now was greedy. The only thing I could give her was the truth, in hopes that she wouldn't hate me for the rest of our lives. But the longer I waited, the more likely it seemed that she would.

So I finally reached for the door.

When the hinges squeaked open to an empty building, relief washed over me, followed by a wave of confusion. The minute I stepped foot inside, the familiar woody musk of old books and a hint of vanilla brought me back to a place I hadn't been in what felt like forever.

Late afternoon sun streaming through the windows illuminated the rows of colorfully stuffed bookshelves along the back wall. It was the same place I'd stood grinning whenever Mary frantically searched for whatever book she needed for reference or, more often than not, whatever book she'd been appalled that I'd never read. And on my worst days, when I'd come to the library upset, complaining about whatever bullshit had happened at work that day, I stood in front of those shelves as Mary gave me that reassuring smile. "I think I have the perfect thing," she would always say. But looking back, she could have given me any damn book, and it would have been the perfect thing.

A glare from the tops of the empty wooden tables caught my eye, reminding me of all the times I sat there with Mary or sat there staring at her. I remembered trying to hide my excitement when she'd let me read whatever piece of writing she'd been stewing over for the past few weeks. She'd constantly torture herself by sitting next to me, fighting every urge to look over my shoulder. It wasn't like I was ever contributing much; her writing was always worlds beyond anything I could even dream of improving on. But I liked getting a glimpse into her mind, and even more so, the attention.

I gave the empty room another look. It was no wonder I'd spent so much time avoiding the library; the whole place was haunted with memories. And while I didn't necessarily want to do any of those things with Mary now, there was a strange ache in my chest knowing I'd never be able to again.

I took a few steps over to Mary's empty desk and then peered up the staircase. As my eyes followed the rising stairs, those few times I'd been alone with Mary up there came flooding back. The first time we'd kissed, New Year's Eve… But I knew I needed to forget about all that—and if anything, I'd promised I would. Nothing like that was ever going to happen again, and I needed to get those remnants of weakness out of me if I was going to focus on being honest.

The floorboards rhythmically creaked above me, and suddenly Mary's whereabouts were no longer a mystery. As her steps grew louder and closer to the stairs, my blood ran cold, and I was stuck in front of her desk, paralyzed and listening.

Mary stopped halfway down the staircase. A seemingly similar fear struck her when she registered me, of all fucking people, standing by her desk. She glanced back to the top of the stairs as if considering a return to the safety of a room that I wasn't in and then back down at me. Mary was first to break, releasing a deep breath as the remaining stairs groaned under her.

"Why are you here?" she asked coldly from the bottom of the stairs.

I sharply inhaled in an attempt to settle my racing heart. "I, uh, came to talk to you."

Mary's eyes darted out the window before returning to me. "Gray, if my mother sees you here—"

"I know she's not around," I couldn't help interrupting her. Usually, Anna wouldn't be back for at least another 15-20 minutes, that much I remembered clearly. But I still glanced down at my watch to double-check anyway. "Why do you think I came now?"

She paused and closed her eyes as if mulling over her next move. When they finally opened, she looked away from me and marched behind her desk. "So you finally came to talk?"

"And to return this," I said, holding up the book that was just about burning my hand off. "Sure I've set a record with it by now."

She looked at The Red Badge of Courage and then me. "Did you even finish it?"

"No." I set it down on the counter. "I just… I dunno. Couldn't get into it."

"Really?" The sincerity in her voice caught me off guard as she picked up the book and carefully rotated it in her hands. "I thought you'd like this one for sure…."

"It's not that I didn't. It—it's just me. Haven't been able to focus much lately." I hadn't been able to focus on much other than fixing my fucked life, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings any more than I already had… and was going to continue to do.

"Makes sense," she quipped back with unexpected bitterness. Mary removed the checkout card, and in one fluid motion, crossed my name out in black pen. "Luckily for you, the overdue fee has a cap."

I'd never had to pay that fee before, but I'd spent enough time at the library to know how much it was. Mary and I used to joke about the few people—namely Karen—that had racked up significant late fees. Because "how hard is it to remember to return a book, in a town as small as this one!" I remembered Mary laughing.

Apparently, a lot harder than you'd think.

I was annoyed having to fork over that much money, but I'd rather pay the fine than hold on to that unread book and all the guilt weighing on my conscience.

Mary placed the book on the empty cart behind her, and I watched, hoping she would give me something to go off of. When she silently organized my gold into the cashbox, not even bothering to look up at me, I tried, "You been writin' at all?"

She didn't even move her attention from locking the box to curtly answer, "No."

Fuck. Clearly a touchy subject.

"Can we sit?" I tried again.

Mary finally looked up at me and huffed before rounding the desk, passing in front of me on her way to the front door.

I should have known it wasn't going to be that easy. Of course, she would want to kick me out after everything that happened. I guess… at least she got her book back...? But I still needed to tell her the truth. So do I just blurt it out and dip?

But I was shocked when Mary moved in front of the door and locked it instead of opening it to send me on my way. I'd only seen Mary lock the library door behind us one other time this past New Year, and I couldn't help noting how immensely different this scenario was than that night.

After the lock had clicked shut, Mary turned back to me. "You have 10 minutes."

I wanted to fight for more time, but I caught myself and followed after her on her way back to the tables. I needed to be thankful that she was willing to talk to me at all.

When Mary reached the first table, I went to grab the chair for her out of habit. I should have predicted that the action would make her pointedly walk to the other side of the table and pull out her own chair; I just didn't expect it to hurt. Little details like that were a stinging reminder of how dramatically things had changed since the last time I'd been here.

I settled into the wooden chair as Mary stoically stared back at me. "I, uh, know I shoulda came by…a long time ago. But—"

"Then why are you here now?" Mary's sharp voice cut me off. "Sending Claire on your behalf wasn't enough? You came to hurt me more?" I could tell she was trying to stay tough, but the smallest voice cracks gave her away.

"Of course, I'm not here to hurt you. I… don't wanna make things any worse for you than I already have," I sighed, slowly shaking my head. After a pause, I looked up to meet those sad amber eyes. "And I never asked Claire to do that."

Her brows drew together with a frown. "...You didn't?"

"Why would I?" I could help mirroring the look. "Didn't even know she came by here 'til after she'd done it."

"I don't know… I just thought…." Mary trailed off, looking down to the table.

I waited a few more moments for her to continue, let alone look at me. But when she didn't, I knew I had to cut to the chase. "I came to talk about us, not her."

"Gray, there is no 'us' to talk about." Mary's head snapped up, shooting me a stern look. "You made sure of that."

She was painfully right about that one; I couldn't help physically recoiling in my seat. "Well… there was an 'us,' right? At least at some point…."

"I don't even know anymore," she murmured, dropping her head again. "You were my best friend, Gray. I was terrified of losing you, but... I still did anyway."

"So... you never actually liked me?" Even if I didn't want to be with Mary anymore, those words still twisted my stomach into knots. It was embarrassing how pathetic I'd been, wasting my time pining after somebody that didn't feel the same way.

"That's not what I'm saying." She inhaled and, with eyes closed, wrung her hands on the table in front of her. "I really liked the idea of us being together, and… I wanted that with you. In my head, it was perfect, but…."

"But what?" I raised an eyebrow, still not following.

I heard her audibly swallow before continuing. "I knew we wouldn't work, at least... not with how things were."

"You… knew we wouldn't work?" I echoed slowly.

"Can you blame me?" she cried, stiffening in her seat. "I was always pushing myself outside of my comfort zone, trying to make you happy, and it was still never enough for you!" Mary held her eyes on mine, her bottom lip quivering in anticipation for whatever was coming out next. "And... I knew if I went against my mother anyway, eventually, I'd lose you and ruin my relationship with her."

I knew I should be relieved she was finally being frank with me, but I was still as tense as ever. "So your solution was to just keep me waitin' by the wayside 'till… when?"

"I-I know that it wasn't fair to keep you waiting around like that, and I'm sorry, but I… I didn't want to lose you." Her voice only grew shakier and less confident as she spoke. "I thought maybe if I had enough time, I could get Mother to come around, and I'd be able to change you too… but I think I just didn't want to accept that we wouldn't work."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" I couldn't help the way my hands clenched on the tabletop. "That you could change me?"

Mary surprised me with a wry smile. "Gray... you have these moments of being so thoughtful and charming. And that's what I want to hold on to." Her face soured, and the sorrow returned to her voice. "But I can't keep ignoring the self-centered and inconsiderate things you sometimes do... or how reckless you've been lately. I-I tried to help you, I tried to be patient, but… it's not my job to fix you."

And suddenly, my question seemed out of line. Of course, Mary wanted to change me. I wanted to change me. I'd been a Grade-S piece of shit to everyone since moving to town and was finally getting around to self-reflection… almost three years later. She'd only been trying to help me make the changes I was just now realizing needed to be made, and I'd been as blind as ever.

I couldn't believe that I'd ever thought I deserved to be with somebody like Mary in the first place.

"You're right. I've been awful to you, and... I'm so sorry," I reached up for my hat, hoping that the words came across as genuinely as I was feeling. "For all the shit I've done to you. I know words won't make up for it, but… avoidin' you… lyin' to you, embarrassin' you like that in public twice, all of it was wrong, and I shouldn't have done it."

"But you still did…" she mumbled before her breath hitched. "And now... I have to sit there and listen to Mother gloat about being right about you after I defended you for so long."

I could only guess what kinds of things Anna had been saying about me behind my back—since she rarely ever said anything to my face. Most of it could be inferred from the angles of her eyebrows as she glared at me from afar. But honestly… there was likely a lot of truth to whatever Anna was saying now. And I felt even guiltier knowing Mary had continually gone against her mother for my benefit, only to have Anna rub it in her face. In the past, I'd only seen what Mary wasn't doing… now, I saw everything that she'd sacrificed just to be around me.

I'm such a piece of shit.

"I… didn't even realize." I settled my eyes on the ones intent on avoiding mine. "I, uh, I know it must have felt like I don't care about you… but that's not true. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm… just a fuckin' idiot coward that was too scared to tell you the truth. " I was always too scared to tell her the truth. It took everything falling apart to finally be honest with each other.

"This is what I mean," Mary muttered just loud enough for me to hear before scowling up at me. "This has always been our problem, brushing everything under the rug for... for the sake of not being lonely. Because we could never communicate!"

I couldn't help thinking about all the issues between Mary and me that could have been solved if I would have just gotten over myself and been honest about what I was feeling. If that were the case, I probably would have never snapped at her in public or fucked up our relationship, and... we might have actually ended up together. Who knows how long that would have taken, but in the delusion I'd devised, it seemed possible.

In that same world, I never would have hooked up with Claire, she wouldn't be pregnant, and I wouldn't be questioning my life as I knew it. All my problems seemed to stem from keeping everything locked up and drinking about it instead—the exact things Popuri and Ann had told me not to do, yet the very things I'd been taught to do my whole life.

"You're right. And I'm sorry." I hated that the only thing I could say back was 'I'm sorry,' as if those two words were magically going to fix anything. But I couldn't help it; I had no clue what else I could say. "I'm workin' on it."

"And… we didn't see eye to eye on a lot of… important issues." Mary paused and raised an accusatory eyebrow. "Important issues that obviously made a big difference for you."

The edge behind that comment made my brow furrow. "What do you mean?"

"Claire… told me what happened between you two," her slow words were laced with blame.

My heart dropped below the fucking floorboards. "She did?" Claire had said Mary kicked her out before she could tell her about the pregnancy… so what did Claire tell her?

"Was sex really that important to you after all?" Mary demanded, shaking as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. "So much so that you didn't have the decency to come tell me to my face?"

Then it clicked. While Claire hadn't revealed the pregnancy, she'd unquestionably told Mary we fucked.

I had to take a deep breath to push down the anger I felt towards Claire's ridiculous need for an impulse 'apology.' "That's… that's not it. It wasn't like I'd planned to sleep with her. I never did that to purposely hurt you, Mary."

"Well, it did," she choked out, covering her face as she lifted her glasses to wipe her now glistening eyes.

"I'm sorry. I know I shoulda been honest with you." I hated seeing Mary like that, just unraveling in front of me. Especially knowing I was the sole reason. "I was just… guilty. I didn't know what to tell you after it happened."

"Yeah, I know," Mary just about scoffed. Her teary eyes locked on mine as she mockingly tilted her head. "Claire seduced you. That's what happened, right?"

Out of all the things Mary could have said, that was the last thing I expected to come out. "Huh? What're you talkin' about?"

"That's what Claire said," she insisted with that unfamiliar edge, her glare held steady on me. "That it wasn't your fault, that she was the one that instigated the whole thing."

I was dumbstruck. Why the fuck would Claire tell her that in the first place? It's like she was trying to sabotage her relationship with Mary for my benefit. What motivation did she have for doing that?

"That's not true. I'm still at fault too. I approached her with, uh… bad intentions," I admitted, wondering just how much of that night Mary needed to know about. "I was drunk and stupid, and I hurt you because of it."

It took a few moments for Mary to regain control of her hitching breaths. She removed her glasses, focused on wiping the clouded lenses rather than me.

When Mary pushed them back up the bridge of her nose, her voice was quiet but intense. "So… let me guess, you two are dating now?"

The question made me slump in my chair. I knew she was going to hate either answer I could have given. "We're, uh, we're not."

"That's…" she shook her head, producing something reminiscent of a laugh, but not the laugh I was so used to hearing. "That's so much worse."

"It… It wasn't on purpose," I tried to defend myself. But I knew it was a shitty defense.

Mary said nothing, her only response a few sniffles and a handkerchief across the face. I knew we could easily spend hours picking apart all the bullshit we'd settled for over the last couple of years... all the bullshit I'd done to her over the past few weeks. But time was running out, and I still needed to tell her the truth.

"That's why I'm here, Mary. I know you won't forgive me today. You have so many reasons to hate me… but I wanna apologize and be honest about everything. I'm just… so fucking sorry."

She sniffled. "Okay? Well, you already did," Mary pointed out angrily.

"And I, uh…." I restlessly wiped my sweaty hands across the fabric of my pants, my pulse making absolutely no effort to slow down anytime soon. "I wanna make things right between us… just not sure what that looks like."

"I… don't know if that's possible right now," she said between sniffs, hands tightly knotting around her handkerchief. "It hurts that all of a sudden you want to make things right between us. Because the last two years weren't motivation enough for you."

I didn't have anything to say back to that. Mary's words didn't feel like the truth, but I could see how I'd given her every reason to believe them to be.

"And it's not just that you hurt me, Gray," she added in my silence. "You… you were my only friend. And without you, I've been so..." I almost couldn't hear her voice when she finally pushed out, "so lonely."

"That's not true. You have Elli, and I know Ann and Harris come by sometimes…." I remembered the bubbling jealousy I felt whenever Mary mentioned Harris visiting the library. Now, I couldn't believe I was even suggesting his name to her.

She dismissed my words with a snort. "Yeah, right. I rarely get to see Elli anymore, Ann and Harris only stop by every now and then, and Claire used to come by…." Irritation replaced the gloom in her voice as she finished the thought, "But you ruined that too."

Of course, I did. I ruined everything; that's what I did.

"You shouldn't let me stop you from bein' friends with Claire. She didn't know anything was goin' on between you and me when it first happened. I shoulda told her, and I didn't," I confessed with my eyes squeezed tightly shut, trying to push the words through the heavy flow of guilt consuming my chest. I swallowed the lump in my throat and let out a deep breath before I could open my eyes and continue. "And I shoulda came and talked to you before it all happened… but I didn't."

"I just… don't get it," Mary forced before giving in to her sobs. I could tell her heavy, shuddering breaths were trying to calm her cries, but their success was questionable.

Mary sat there crying, and I sat there watching, wanting to get up and wrap my arms around her or even reach my hand across the table to comfort her. It was fucking awful seeing somebody that I cared about come undone in front of me. All I wanted to do was make her pain go away. But I knew I couldn't, and I felt guilty for even thinking those selfish thoughts, considering I was the one causing it.

I had to look away. "I know…I'm sorry, Mary, I really am. But you're right… I'm selfish and inconsiderate, and I'm tryin' to fix that."

When Mary's slowing sniffs were my only response, words were nervously pouring out of my mouth. "And I, uh, I know I need to start by makin' things right with the people I've hurt, like you, and bein' honest about everything. You deserve to know the truth." It was more of a reminder to myself rather than her. "I, uh, I actually have one more thing I need to apologize for," I added as the dread swirled in my stomach. "And then I promise I'll leave."

Her face slowly scrunched in confusion. "O-okay… I'm listening."

It's better to just get it over with, I tried to convince myself. Telling her now will give her more time to get over it… was just another justification. I'd lied so much I didn't want to hold any ammunition against Mary anymore. I had to do it.

"I know I'm not in the position to be askin' this from you… but I need you to keep this between us. You can't tell Anna." Her expression didn't change, and I was starting to second guess my plan. "Please, Mary."

She held eye contact for a few moments before breaking it with a defeated sigh. "Fine. Okay."

Amidst the heavy hammering in my chest, against every impulse to just get up and leave instead, I said the words, "Mary… um. Claire's… she's pregnant." When she only stared back at me with the largest eyes I'd ever seen her make, I was anxiously saturating the silence between us. "I just… I wanted you to hear it from me first."

She opened her mouth like she might yell something and then shook her head before trying again. "Gray... What? W-why would you say something like that?"

"'Cuz… it's the truth." Even if it didn't feel like it yet. Even if I didn't want it to be.

Her mouth hung open. "I… I can't—What do you expect me to say back to that?" Her eyes frantically flashed over to the clock above the door behind me, and she didn't even let me answer before shooting up from her spot. "You need to leave."

I followed after Mary as she stormed to the door. "You don't have to say anything! Just… know that I'm really sorry. And I wanna make things up to you, any way that you—"

"Gray, t-the only thing I want is for you to leave," Mary yelled over me, eyes on her feet as she threw her arm towards the door. " Now. I… I can't even look at you right now."

And there was the reaction I'd been expecting. I headed towards the door, stopping with my hand on the knob. "I just want you to know that I still care about you, and I'll always—"

"C-can you just go?" she practically shouted between sniffles, shoving her hands out in front of her like she might physically remove me herself otherwise. "Please?"

So I did. And as the door slammed behind me, the realization sunk in. Mary was gone, and I hated myself for it.

I headed southeast towards the inn, intent on avoiding Anna at all costs. My steps felt heavy and directionless, despite my intended destination. I didn't have a fucking clue what I was going to do. It wasn't like I had any plans other than the inevitable laying in bed, playing back everything that had happened today on an endless loop.

If it'd been up to me, I would have given up and sat down right there on the path outside of the library with my head in my hands. But I knew I needed to get out of there; I didn't want to do anything to fuck over Mary any more than I already had.

I had to push it all down. I had to keep going.

Though it wasn't the purpose of my visit, I couldn't stop thinking about the bits of honesty Mary had given me about our relationship as I trudged home. While it was still confusing as fuck in retrospect, she was right that we wouldn't have worked. I think a part of me knew it too, but I didn't want to lose her either. So for some fucked up reason, I was okay with settling with whatever the hell we'd been doing… why?

Because I'm so pathetic that I get attached to the first pretty girl that made me forget about being dumped in the middle of nowhere? Because she was nice to me during a time where I'd forgotten what that felt like? Or maybe I was just lonely, projecting those feelings onto one of my only real friendships? Regardless, I couldn't believe how far I'd let myself go, how much I'd let myself fuck up lately… It wasn't like this was the first time I'd let something like this happen, but it needed to be the last.

Was I doing the same thing with Claire now? Granted, our situation was much more complicated. Still, I couldn't help wondering why the fuck I'd gotten so attached to somebody I barely knew.

Claire was supposed to be my friend; the suggestion seemed to roll off her tongue with ease. And although I'd agreed, my feelings towards her didn't feel friendly in the slightest. I hated the way I worried about Claire, the way she constantly wormed her way into my thoughts and, now, my dreams. I hated how effortlessly she wore away at all my defenses or how with a simple look or touch alone, she left me feeling things for her that I desperately wanted to deny. But most of all, I hated how easily I let it all happen… and how hard it was to actually hate her.

I was tired of thinking about it. My head was spinning, trying to focus on one coherent thought. But only one drowned out the others: finding a way to make it all go away.

My feet stopped at the path in front of the winery. So… maybe I just drink. But fuck, I knew I wouldn't want to stop at one. Who the hell has one drink? What's the point in that?

Which means I can't drink at the inn. I knew Ann and Doug would cut me off. But… there was the possibility of a place with liquor and no supervision. My eyes trailed to the far end of the path, the deep blue ocean on the horizon. I could go check Kai's with the key he left, and nobody would know.

Nobody would know. Adrenaline and excitement filled my veins. I knew it was wrong, but I was so close to giving in. Fuck, I wanted to give in.

But the key to the shack was in my room. Which meant I'd potentially encounter Ann or Cliff…

What would they think after everything I'd told them? Throwing away all of my promises and progress just like that? So what if it's only a day's worth of progress? It's still progress, I tried to convince myself.

Is that how weak I am, that my mind immediately goes to getting fucked up when things get uncomfortable? How was someone like me supposed to be a dad? Good dads were dependable. Doug was a good dad, hell a great fucking dad, and he was one of the most dependable people I knew. You can't rely on somebody that's shitfaced all the time; that much I had learned from both experiencing and doing. I needed to be dependable because Jet wasn't. What if something happened to Claire and I was fucked up beyond belief?

Shit. I couldn't believe it was the first time I was considering something like that as a possibility.

A deeper sense of shame started to spread, one that sunk so far into the pit of my stomach that I felt nauseous. I didn't know what I needed anymore. Alcohol would fix the problem as long as I was drunk… which only left sober me to pick up the fucking pieces. But keeping all this shit inside just made me want to find a way to make it stop.

I continued towards the inn with a bit more purpose. Escape was on my mind, but my only safe option was sleep. Other than drinking myself numb, all I wanted to do was curl into bed and float away into nothing. And I knew I needed to get there quickly before I changed my mind and went with the more destructive option.

It was easy to slip through the budding dinner rush of the dining room unnoticed. Up the stairs, and with my door in sight, I could feel myself start to come apart. I'd worked so hard to keep everything together today. I tried to be supportive for Claire even when I was terrified and uncomfortable beyond belief. I pushed through apologizing and telling the truth to Mary, despite every urge in my body to abandon the plan. And, now I was exhausted. I couldn't keep pretending that I was strong enough for others when I wasn't even strong enough for myself.

A strange relief rushed over me when the door opened to an empty flat. Kai's absence in a time like this was likely a blessing, but with Cliff gone, my thoughts returned down the earlier rabbit hole.

I could grab the key right now, sneak back out of the inn, and nobody would know.

I almost wanted to kick myself for the thought alone. I would still know if I drank, and the guilt would likely make me feel worse than I felt at the moment. Still… it was tempting.

In an attempt to distract myself, I stripped and headed to the shower. I thought maybe if the water was hot enough, if I scrubbed hard enough, I could somehow cleanse myself of everything that had happened today. But of course, that wasn't possible and only left my skin feeling as raw and irritated as I felt inside.

Defeated, I eventually crawled into bed. I wasn't sure how long I'd been dissociated, wrapped between the covers, when the doorknob rattled and slowly creaked open. I'd been facing away from the door even if my head wasn't under the blanket, but I could make out a few voices shortly after.

"Do you see him?" asked a voice that unmistakably belonged to Ann.

"I…" I heard Cliff's hushed voice falter. "He's in here, but… um, I think he's sleeping."

"Well, we'll wake him up then!" Ann replied much louder after a few steps closer to my bed. "Gr—!"

"Wh-why would you want to wake him up?" Cliff's whisper was like a struggled hiss. "Especially like that?"

Ann's response was only a muffled protest as shoes stomped and slid against the hardwood. I'd been trying to ignore them in hopes that they'd just leave me be, but the chances of that were next to impossible now.

I begrudgingly sat up from my spot, letting the comforter fall to my lap. "What?"

But neither of their attention was on me anymore. A few feet in front of my bed, Cliff had Ann restrained in his arms. One of his hands struggled to keep her mouth covered as she wrestled against it with both of hers, the other hand wrapped around her waist. Ann thrashed against Cliff's grip, putting up a pretty decent fight, but I could tell neither of them was actually focused on the match itself.

I cleared my throat. "I'm up. But I can leave if you two want me to."

Both Ann and Cliff snapped their heads towards me, suddenly aware of my presence and their proximity to each other. Cliff immediately dropped his hands, and Ann pushed off his chest to give the illusion that they hadn't just been intertwined. More redfaced than I'd ever seen either of them, they both took another step in the opposite direction for good measure, eyes locked on the floor. They looked so ridiculous that I almost laughed.

"Sorry, um, we didn't mean to interrupt," Cliff said softly, still very clearly embarrassed.

Ann perked up, shedding whatever shame she'd felt seconds before. "Uh, yes, we did." She didn't stop when Cliff turned his head to shoot her a look. "Sorry for waking you up or whatever, but I knew we had to come check in with you as soon as possible."

"As soon as possible?" I repeated, confused by her urgency.

"I told her it could wait until later," Cliff added, glancing over at me with annoyance. "She didn't want to listen."

Ann turned to Cliff and threw a hand towards my general direction. "Look at him! It's almost 7, and he's already in bed. Obviously, something happened today." She turned back to me as if she hadn't just roasted me. "Again, sorry, you can tell me to leave, but I thought maybe with… everything going on today, you might want to talk." Her words were careful, but I knew she wanted to know what'd happened at the appointment.

"Uh, no. It's actually good that you're here." I threw my legs over the side of my bed and reached into the pocket of my discarded coveralls to fish out my wallet. "There's somethin' I wanna show you two." Ann wasted no time taking a seat next to me on the bed while Cliff sat in the chair closest to us.

"You and Claire had your appointment today, right?" Cliff asked, getting straight to the point.

"Yeah," I sighed, uncovering the ultrasound picture from my wallet. "That's what I wanna show you."

I held the world's most confusing image up for maybe a single second before Ann clambered over me to snatch it from my hands.

"Goddess… is…" she looked over to me and then back at the image. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yep," I couldn't believe I was responding. "Claire's pregnant."

"I mean, I figured as much, but…." Ann held the picture in front of her eyes for a long moment. "I can't even tell what I'm looking at," she laughed before handing the picture to Cliff.

"Wow," he said, eyes unmoving from the photo. "I'm in disbelief that I'm holding this right now."

"Feel that," I mumbled, running a hand through my hair.

"Are you doing okay?" Cliff looked up from the picture, setting it on the table. Ann's eyes were on me, too, as if trying to relay the same message.

"I dunno." I let myself fall back on the bed. "Part of it doesn't feel real… but the other part of me is fuckin' terrified."

"I feel like that's normal," Ann attempted to reassure me with a light pat on the leg. "I'm sure Dad felt the same way at first, too!"

"Yeah…" I trailed off.

"How's Claire handling it all?" she asked quickly, no doubt trying to distract me from myself.

I had no way of knowing for sure since Claire's gut reactions rarely seemed to be rooted in honesty. "She was... weirdly excited," I recalled, remembering the way her eyes sparkled when she looked up at me, squeezing my hand.

"So, it sounds like things between you two are better." Ann tilted her head, the inflection more questioning than anything else.

"Yeah, she was bein' unusually nice to me today. Said she wanted to focus on bein' friends, us havin' a good relationship before the baby." I shook the thought from my brain, focusing on how I felt leaving her farm earlier. "But then she just says and does shit that makes me feel like she hasn't thought this out in the slightest. And that freaks me the fuck out, that I'm supposed to be the responsible one."

Both Ann and Cliff's expressions were distant, but I could see the worry lines forming in their foreheads.

"Well… I'm sure it just hasn't hit Claire yet," Ann made another attempt at reassurance, but her face betrayed her words. "I'll talk to her, though, see where her head is at. She doesn't love when I give her advice but—"

"No," I interrupted her, surprising everyone, including myself. "I… I should probably talk to her about it. You've done enough for me as it is, Ann."

She nodded understandingly, and then her mouth twisted. "I can definitely understand why you're so upset, though. That sounds really frustrating on top of the situation already."

"Well, I, uh… I also told Mary earlier."

Two sets of wide eyes stared back at me.

"Oh." Ann exchanged a worried look with Cliff. "I can't even imagine how that went."

I snorted. "Probably as well as it could've."

"So… bad?" Ann raised a brow.

"Real bad." I covered my eyes as I pressed against my temples. "I feel like fuckin' shit. I know it was the right thing to tell her… but why do I feel so shitty about it?"

"Well… what you did to her was pretty crappy, wouldn't you say?" Ann asked, nonchalantly crossing her legs as she shifted her weight back to her arms.

I moved my hands behind my head and looked away. "Yeah…"

"I mean, you can't expect to feel good about doing crappy things." I could feel both of them staring at me, probably waiting to see how I'd taken my most recent helping of verbal reality. "You have to do things you can feel good about in order to actually feel good."

I looked over to Cliff, who just nodded along.

"But… it would be a hell of a lot easier to just drink and feel better," I muttered with unfiltered honesty. "No other work required."

I felt a pinch above my knee and jerked up to Ann glaring down at me.

"I'm not gonna!" I swatted her hand away and flopped back down. "That's why I'm tellin' you. It just… sucks to keep it all up here."

"But would you actually feel better?" Cliff asked without judgment, which I was appreciative of.

I sighed. "No. Probably not."

The room was silent for a few moments.

"So good things!" Ann interjected randomly, springing up from her seat on my bed. "We focus on good things!"

I rolled my eyes as she stood before me, hands purposefully on her hips. "Not sure if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly the best at doin' good things."

"Which is why you're working on it!" Ann returned with unwavering feigned optimism that made my stomach churn with fresh guilt. While I appreciated her being there for me, I knew she was probably still upset about Cliff. And here she was, working with him for my sake anyway. "That's the whole point."

"Right. Yeah. Good things. Fine," I reluctantly agreed. "What good things should I be doin' instead then?"

"You could get involved around town!" Ann suggested wholeheartedly. "With the festivals and stuff."

My first instinct was to shudder. "Why would I do that on purpose?"

"It feels good to be a part of something, to help people!" she answered without missing a beat. "Even for somebody as antisocial as you."

"I'm not antisocial, " I groaned. "People here just... annoy me sometimes. I dunno."

"I'm going to pretend like that's not literally the definition of being antisocial," Ann grumbled, shaking her head. "Maybe you'd hate this town and everyone in it just a little less if you actually tried to be a part of it? Just a thought."

I sat up and looked over to Cliff in hopes of rational thought from somebody who wasn't the most extroverted person in town. But there he was, nodding along to Ann's words. Typical.

Cliff shrugged when he noticed me half-glaring. "Trying new things, right?"

That answer made me want to crawl back under the covers.

"Cliff and I have to head out in a few here for rehearsals…." Ann started like she had some sort of grand offer to present me. "Maybe you want to come with and see what it's like? A behind-the-scenes tour!"

While the thought was there, clearly, there wasn't enough thought behind it. "I can think of two very good reasons I shouldn't."

Willingly put myself in a room with Claire and Mary after everything that'd happened today? Fuck. That. Shit. The thought of Mary and Claire together without me left me almost as nervous. I had no idea how either of them would react to being forced to cooperate in public, but I definitely didn't want to be around to complicate it.

It took Ann a moment, but she finally caught on to my tone. "Oh. Yeah. Kinda spaced that Mary and Claire will both be there."

"Yeah… probably not a good idea this time around," Cliff thankfully added. He looked over to Ann as if comforting her on the idea more so than me, "But there'll be more festivals. And there are other ways Gray can still get involved."

Ann clasped her hands together with a grin. "Okay, yeah! Then next time." She glanced out the window and then over to Cliff. "We should probably head over to the church soon, though."

Cliff didn't say anything but started lifting himself from his seat.

For some reason, the thought of them both leaving sent an unexpected panic to my chest. "Wait, so if I'm not doin' festival shit, what good shit am I supposed to do while you're gone?"

Ann stopped and took a surveying look around the room before settling back on me. "Maybe you clean up your little world you have going on here?" she suggested, motioning towards the scattered piles of clothes, sheets, and random crumpled papers surrounding my bed.

I knew I wasn't the cleanest person, but having somebody else point it out made my face scorch. When I looked around and noticed the clear distinction between Cliff's space and mine, I realized she was right.

"I'm sure it would be much easier to think clearly when you have a clean area to do it in!" she added. "Plus, I always feel so much better after I clean!"

I lowered my brow. "What's the point in cleanin' it if it's just gonna get messy again?"

"I don't know," Ann returned with matching sass. "Why don't you try it tonight, and then let me know what you find out?"

Cliff ignored our bickering, looking over to me with a thoughtful expression. "Will you be okay by yourself for a few hours? I can always stay—"

"No, yeah, I'll be good," I hastily answered, trying to convince everyone in the room. It was embarrassing and selfish to want either of them to stay with me. I needed to be able to deal with shit on my own. "Thanks for checkin' in."

"Well, if you want to talk more when we get back, or tomorrow or something, you know I'm all ears," Ann said with a smile as they headed to the door. "Anything else before we head out?"

I shook my head, and my friends returned the same way they came.

But when the door clicked shut, I wasn't convinced by my assurance to them at all. Instead of the disconnect that I was almost glad for earlier, it was the opposite now. A complex concoction of everything I'd felt today slithered up my spine, and I was instantly hyper-aware of how hopelessly alone I was in that empty room. The sensations rushed through me all at once—bleeding and muddling together until I couldn't tell anything apart. My head was light, body restless and weighed down with emotions I didn't have the slightest clue how to deal with. Weighed down with emotions that needed to come out before I couldn't take it anymore.

I felt my breath catch, and an unsettling sting spread from my throat to the back of my eyes. It was foreign, yet familiar enough to know what was looming.

No. I practically pleaded with myself to stop before it started.

I attempted to swallow it down, tried to regain control of my breath, but nothing worked. I never cried. Not anymore. I didn't want to; I wasn't supposed to. But my eyes burned with newly forming tears, my jaw trembling as I tried to work against them. And when the first slid down my cheek against all my efforts to stop it, all I could do was give in. I curled back on my side and pressed my face into the blanket, somehow feeling like the same scared little kid I'd been over a decade ago.

I was still that same scared little kid, crying into my comforter… I didn't have it in me to keep acting like I wasn't.

I stayed that way for a while. It wasn't until my eyes had dried up, my breaths had slowed, and the sun had set that I finally sat up from my spot. Without the daylight, the room had become dark and shadowed. That, combined with the headrush from my outburst, left my vision disoriented and out of whack. However, I felt surprisingly better than when I'd first laid down. Still tender, but much more collected than I'd been all day.

After stretching and turning the lights on, I talked myself up to 'clean my little world.' Which was a ridiculous assessment; my mess was a small township at best. I dragged one of the spare trash cans over and got to work—focusing solely on organizing my things and clearing my space of what didn't belong. Or at least, I tried to.

It was a decent distraction, throwing away random receipts and meaningless chicken-scratch notes, separating the dirty clothes from the mostly clean ones. Once I'd gotten started, it ended up taking a lot less time than I'd envisioned. But I wasn't sure if I was thankful for that or not.

When the floor was clean, I desperately looked for something else in the same realm to do. Anything to keep me busy. I slid over to my bedside table and haphazardly poured the contents onto the floor, making a mess that rivaled the one I had initially.

I sat on the floor, sifting through a random array of objects. Scattered in front of me were pens and pencils, an empty notebook about the size of a notecard, an old sketchbook that I forgot existed, Kai's colorful tin filled with items I was purposefully avoiding, and more miscellaneous receipts and papers with notes—most of them lists of key points from books I knew Mary wanted to discuss with me. The latter promptly ended up crumpled in the trash, the rest back in the drawer with slightly more organization. Though, what caught my eye were the two objects remaining on the floor: a rock and a book.

The book's paperback cover was tattered and wrinkled from age and use; the once vibrant sunset backdrop faded to muted pastels. Even the title itself was cracked and withered. But the white face of a boy with black hair remained on the cover, an unmistakable outline of the tool that held the book's namesake overlaid above him.

Hatchet.

I turned the worn chapter book in my hands. It looked measly compared to the books Mary used to send home with me. Probably far less interesting, too, to anyone other than me. It was the first book I remembered enjoying in school, a book that had gotten me through a few very dark times, and the only book I'd brought with me when I came to Mineral Town. To my credit, though, I would have brought more if I would have known how long my stay was actually intended for.

I set it on the corner of my bedside table for later and returned to the same gray speckled rock I'd been trying to ignore yesterday. The stone was smooth in my hand, no doubt weathered by the ocean long before Claire had picked it up. But I couldn't get over the fact that apparently, this rock and its mosaic of charcoal, blues, and orangey-yellows reminded her of me. What was it that made her associate something so vibrant with me? There was no possible way somebody as ragged as me could remind her of something so soft. It didn't make sense.

But the longer I held the rock between my fingers, running my thumb along its curves, the more I liked the idea of being similar to it. I still wasn't sure what that similarity was… but fuck, I was going to figure it out. I stood up and arranged the rock on top of my bedside table next to the small antique lamp and a cup of water, a spot where it would be impossible to ignore. Maybe if I saw it enough, eventually, it'd click. It made more sense than keeping it locked away in a drawer… or skipping it out into the ocean like I'd had the impulse to do the night Claire had given it to me.

I glanced around a much cleaner room than I'd had in… a really long time. Sure, my bed itself was still a tangled mess, but it was still progress. On the table across the room, the black ultrasound picture I'd shown to Cliff and Ann stood out against the wood grains. I didn't particularly want to look at it again, but I knew Gramps would want to see it tomorrow. So I returned the picture to its place in my wallet, and after finally feeling satisfied with my work, threw myself back into bed.

Truthfully, after the day I had, I could have fallen asleep right then and there. But I couldn't contain my curiosity. It had been almost two years since I'd read Hatchet, and I strangely missed it. It was a short book, almost like a challenge to see how far I could read before falling asleep.

Which, evidently, wasn't far at all. I remembered reaching one of my favorite scenes before fighting to keep my eyes open. The 13-year old protagonist, Brian, traveling on a small prop plane to visit his estranged father, gets an impromptu flying lesson right before the pilot unexpectedly dies of a heart attack.

Brian turned the wheel left, pushed on the left pedal, and the plane came back around. "It's easy." He smiled. "At least this part."

The pilot nodded. "All of flying is easy. Just takes learning. Like everything else. Like everything else."

It was a blur trying to finish before I gave in to the growing weight on my eyelids, but I knew I'd reached the end of the first chapter when I got to the same line that resonated with me time after time.

He was alone. In a roaring plane with no pilot he was alone. Alone.


((Just wanted to give a big thanks to all of you reading and supporting this story! :-) Thanks for your patience!

ANywho. This was a rough one for me to write at times, I will admit. Mary and Gray conflict can be hard for me because I've never really been a Graire shipper that inherently hates Mary. I love her as a character and think she and Gray do work well together. Just, in this case, their issues are more of a "right person wrong time" kinda thing. Which happens, unfortunately. I did struggle a little writing somebody as reserved as Mary, especially being so upset. I kinda figured with as jaded and fed up as Mary probably is by now, a little bit of claw that she inevitably inherited from Anna would come out lol.

Haha, this chapter feels so melodramatic but like yeah, I felt like making Gray cry. Which sounds evil to say, but tbh he needed to. Poor dude is a scared idiot and doesn't really know what else to do with all those feelings right now. Whether it's the turmoil over his relationships, realizing that not drinking is going to be harder than he thought, or the fact that the dude is gonna be a whole-ass dad, Gray's going through it right now. And will continue to for a while haha. Anyway.

The book that Gray finds at the end is Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. It's an older book but one that I treasure, and one that I imagined Gray treasuring too. A story about a boy with estranged parents, struggling to rely on himself to survive in the wild? I picture young Gray going bonkers for that haha. Plus, not to mention everything I could unpack about hatchet symbolism and being a blacksmith lmao. If you haven't read the book, eventually I will spoil some of it since it will continue to be referenced, so I figured I'd mention that.

Today's chapter name is inspired by A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be by Jess Benko. It's more of a Mary song in this case, but god it's so fucking sad and was on repeat while writing this chapter. I was also listening to Miserable by Lit, Somewhere by Surf Mesa Gus Dapperton, and The Funeral by Band of Horses.

The world's biggest thanks to my betareader rageaphobia, who continues to improve this story in ways that I didn't think were possible. Seriously, you are awesome and I appreciate ya more than you know :-) ))