LOU

The house was dark when I arrived. The soft glow from the streetlights cast long shadows across the front garden, but everything else was quiet, still. I pushed open the front door, slipping inside quietly. For once, I didn't want to draw attention to myself. My head was still spinning from the day at the hospital, from seeing Will again, from the weight of everything hanging between us.

I just needed a moment to breathe.

But as soon as I stepped inside, I knew I wouldn't get it.

"Lou."

His voice came from the corner of the living room, low and hesitant, and I froze. Patrick. I hadn't expected him to be here. Not now. Not after everything.

I turned slowly, and he stood by the window, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He looked out of place—like he didn't belong here anymore. And maybe he didn't.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He winced but didn't move. "I wanted to talk to you."

I swallowed, my throat tight. I didn't want to do this. Not now. Not after the day I'd had. But the look on Patrick's face told me he wouldn't leave until we'd had it out.

I dropped my keys onto the hallway table and stepped into the living room, crossing my arms over my chest as I faced him. "There's nothing to talk about."

Patrick's jaw clenched, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched between us, thick with everything unsaid.

"You can't ignore me forever, Lou," he said quietly. "I know you're angry, but—"

"Angry?" I let out a bitter laugh, cutting him off. "Patrick, you sold Will's story to the papers. You didn't care what it would do to him, his family, or me. You didn't think about anyone but yourself."

"I was trying to help," he snapped, his voice rising. "You were drowning, Lou. I could see it. I thought if people knew what was happening—if they understood—maybe things would be different. Maybe they could help."

I shook my head, my chest tightening with the weight of his words. "Help? You think putting Will's life on display for the world to judge would help? How could you think that was okay?"

Patrick's face flushed, his eyes narrowing. "You think I don't care about you? About what you've been going through? I was trying to get you out of this mess, Lou. Trying to make you see that there's more to life than Will Traynor."

His words hit me like a slap, and I felt the air leave my lungs. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're throwing your life away for him," he said, his voice hard. "You've been so wrapped up in Will's problems that you've forgotten you have a life of your own. You're going down with him, Lou, and I couldn't just stand by and watch it happen."

I stood there, my hands shaking at my sides. I wanted to yell, to scream at him for not understanding, for thinking that I needed saving. But more than that, I wanted him to leave. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't keep explaining myself and justifying my choices to someone who would never understand.

"This isn't about you," I said, trembling. "It's never been about you."

Patrick's eyes softened for a moment, but it was fleeting. "Lou, please. You know I'm right. You can't keep doing this. Will—he's not getting better. You're holding onto something that isn't real."

I stepped back, the distance between us feeling like a chasm. "You don't know anything about him."

"I know enough," Patrick shot back, his voice sharper now. "I know that he's broken, Lou. And you—you can't fix him."

The words hit me harder than I expected, and I felt the tears sting my eyes. I knew Patrick was wrong. I had to believe he was wrong. Will wasn't beyond saving. He wasn't broken, not the way Patrick thought he was. But standing here, in this room, with the man I'd once thought I could love—it all felt too heavy, too much.

"I don't need to fix him," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I just need to be with him."

Patrick's face fell, and for the first time, I saw the defeat in his eyes. He looked at me like he didn't know who I was anymore like the Lou he'd fallen in love with had disappeared somewhere along the way, replaced by someone he couldn't reach.

"I love him," I said, the words coming out before I could stop them. "And I'm staying with him."

Patrick let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Lou, I..."

But I couldn't do this anymore. I shook my head, cutting him off. "I think you should go."

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine for something—some sign that I wasn't serious. But I was. I had never been more serious in my life.

Finally, he nodded, his shoulders sagging as he stepped past me, his footsteps heavy as he made his way to the door. He paused, his hand resting on the doorknob, but he didn't turn back.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Lou," he said softly, his voice heavy with resignation.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me standing in the empty room, the silence pressing down on me. I wiped at the tears that had spilled over, taking a deep breath. I had made my choice.

For the first time in weeks, I didn't regret it.


I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the photographs of my favorite shoes hanging on the wall. My mind raced, the echo of our argument still swirling around in my head. I knew I'd made the right choice, but its weight still sat heavy in my chest. It wasn't just about Patrick—it was about everything. I still hadn't discussed the fallout of Patrick's actions with the Traynors—a prospect I was not looking forward to.

A soft knock on my door broke through my thoughts, and I looked up to see Treena peeking her head in.

"Can I come in?" she asked quietly.

I nodded, offering her a small smile. "Yeah."

She slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her. She didn't say anything at first; she just sat beside me on the bed, her presence comforting in its familiarity. For a long moment, we just sat there in silence.

"I saw Patrick leave," she said finally, her voice gentle. "That sounded...tense."

I let out a shaky breath, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, you could say that."

Treena turned to face me, her eyes filled with concern. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I hesitated, unsure of where to start. There was so much to say, so much that I hadn't even figured out myself. But Treena had always been there for me, always knew when I needed to talk—even when I didn't want to.

"He's just... he doesn't get it," I said, my voice quiet. "He thinks I'm throwing my life away for Will."

Treena tilted her head, studying me for a moment. "And are you?"

I looked up at her, my chest tightening. "No. At least... I don't think I am."

Treena nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I think Patrick was never going to get it. Not really. But, Lou, are you sure? About Will, I mean."

I swallowed, my throat tight. The question hung between us, heavy with everything I hadn't yet put into words. Was I sure? Could I ever really be sure?

"I love him," I said softly, the words feeling both terrifying and freeing at the same time. "I know that. I've never felt anything like this before."

Treena smiled slightly, her eyes softening. "I could tell. You've been different since you met him. Not in a bad way, just... different."

I blinked, taken aback by her words. "Different, how?"

She shrugged, leaning back against the bedpost. "I don't know. More... yourself. More like the girl you were before…"

I looked down. Before the maze. Before I stopped being fearless.

"It's like you've found something you were looking for, even if you didn't know you were looking for it."

Her words sank in, and I felt a warmth spread through my chest. I hadn't thought about it that way before, but maybe she was right. Maybe Will had given me something I hadn't even known I needed.

"I just don't know what to do," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if he'll ever really want to live again."

Treena reached over and squeezed my hand gently. "Maybe that's not something you can decide for him. But if you're there with him, it'll make it easier. For both of you, whatever his decision will be."

I nodded, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. She was right. I couldn't decide for him, but I could be there with him, no matter what. And that had to be enough. It had to be.

We sat there for a few more minutes, the silence between us comfortable, before Treena sighed and pushed herself off the bed.

"Right, I'll leave you to get some sleep. It's been a long day."

I smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Treen. For everything."

She waved it off with a small smile before heading for the door. Just as she reached it, she paused, turning to face me.

"Oh, almost forgot," she said, reaching into her back pocket. "Mum found this earlier today. Said it was for you. Thought you might want it."

I frowned, confused, as she pulled out a small envelope and handed it to me, and my heart skipped a beat.

CLARK

ONLY TO BE READ IN THE CAFE MARQUIS RUE DES FRANCE BOURGEOIS, ACCOMPANIED BY CROISSANTS AND A LARGE CAFE CREME

Will.

My fingers trembled slightly as I took the letter from her, my chest tightening at the sight of the typewritten envelope. Treena gave me a knowing look but didn't say anything. She just smiled softly before closing the door behind her, leaving me alone with the letter in my hands.

I stared down at it, my mind racing. He'd written me a letter. It was dated for the same day as his Dignitas appointment.

My fingers trembled as I held the envelope, the weight of it suddenly too heavy, like it was full of all the things I wasn't ready to face. It was his goodbye, typed on paper, and I hadn't been able to change his mind. The thought made my breath shallow. I wasn't ready to open it—not yet. But soon, I knew I'd have to.

Carefully, I set it down on the bedside table, taking a deep breath as I lay back on the bed. I'm sure I'll need to speak to Will before I open it anyway. For now, all I could do was try to sleep.