Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)(42)

His feet didn’t budge.

“Let’s go!” I yelled again, pulling on his arms.

I’m not sure what I was trying to prove. I just wanted my f*cking way for once. It wasn’t an issue of if Till wanted me or not, loved me or not, or could have me or not. It was all about his silly little need to keep me squirreled away because he was scared I’d eventually leave. He couldn’t understand that leaving him would have killed me too. I couldn’t have done it even if the world suddenly caught fire. I would have died at his side before my legs would have carried me away.

He silently stared at me as the tears finally made it to my eyes. I walked past him, and he turned, snagging my arm and dragging me into a hug.

“I love you. I swear I do. Please let that be enough,” he pleaded, stroking my hair and holding me tight.

We were it for each other, and there was nothing but a little boy’s dream world standing in our way.

“Okay. We’ll be fine.” I sniffled and stepped out of his grasp.

His whole body sagged as his chin dropped to his chest and his eyes closed in relief.

And then I ended it.

I rushed forward, and with both hands, I shoved Till as hard as I possibly could. Catching him off guard, I sent him stumbling out the door.

He stood dazed and in shock. His mouth hung open as his eyes blinked rapidly. It was physically painful for me to witness, but it had to be done.

“The fantasy’s over. Let me know when you’re ready to use the door.” With one swift push, I slammed the door on my relationship with Till Page.

I didn’t lock it. I actually stood there willing him to rush back through. He could be as mad as he wanted if he would just open that door and walk inside. I didn’t budge until I heard his footsteps head toward my bedroom. I sprinted back to my room, and just as he approached, I slammed the window too.

His gentle eyes turned murderous. “Open the f*cking window,” he demanded through the glass.

“No.”

“Open the window!” he shouted.

“No more, Till. I love you, but I’m sick of living in your fantasy. My door will always be open for you.” Tears fell from my eyes as I watched each word land on his gorgeous face. “No more windows. No more pretending.”

“Eliza, don’t do this. We’ll start over. Go back to friends.”

“I can’t go back to that. Not after experiencing what we can be together.”

“Doodle! Open the window.” He pounded the heel of his hand against the brick building.

“Goodbye, Till.”

His eyes went wide as I slowly lowered the blinds. “Stop. Eliza!” he yelled until I drew the curtains.

Half of me expected him to shatter the glass to get back inside, but I guessed that would have ruined his magical window forever.

After several minutes, I heard him make his way back upstairs, which was immediately followed by several minutes of him yelling and breaking things. I couldn’t listen to any of it. I pulled my headphones on, curled into a ball on the bed, and allowed myself to lose it too.

I couldn’t lie to myself. There was always something romantic about Till’s crawling in my window and the way it made me feel to be so special that he was afraid to use the door. He wasn’t delusional—he knew the truth. But, sometimes, in the world we lived in, where everything was a struggle, it was easy to become dependent on the things that numbed the chaos. Some people turned to drugs or alcohol as an escape. But I had Till . . . and he had the fantasy.





IT EXPLODED. ONE MINUTE, I was holding her in my arms as she came calling my name. And minutes later, she was gone. I nearly tore down the building that night. I sure as hell destroyed my room. In all seriousness, I considered prying up the floorboards and dropping into her bedroom through the ceiling. It was crazy, but that was exactly how my life felt too. Flint came to check on me, but he didn’t ask a single question about why I was suddenly on a rampage against my furniture. It was safe to assume he and Quarry had heard the whole thing and knew what a delusional fool their brother was. Outstanding.

For a full twenty-four hours, I wallowed. I had no choice but to go to work. I went through the movements, but my mind was consumed with all things Eliza. I was a zombie. My mind scattered through scenarios that would get her back, but I knew there was only one solution—the impossible.

The first night without her, I snuck down to purgatory and left a new sketchpad against her window.

The second night, I stared a hole in my floor.

The third, I lay in my bed and talked to her—at least I hoped she could hear me.

I confessed to every time I had copped a feel and disguised it as something innocent over the years. I was completely unaware of how long that list really was until I hit the two-hour mark.

I missed her.

It had been three days, and I craved her on every level. She would come around though. We’d talk it out and go back to how we used to be. But what honestly pained me was that, even though I knew the way it had to be, I didn’t want to go back to being friends. I wanted to crawl through the floor and bury myself inside her.

I threw myself into the only thing that seemed to distract me—On The Ropes.

“What’s up, Leo?” I shook his hand, but he pulled it in for a back pat.

“Not much, man. How the hell are you guys doing?”