I stare at him, wiping the last of the tears from my cheeks. “Since when? I mean, when did you know?”
“I think maybe in some way, I always have.” At my confused look, he goes on. “Addie—you’re smart. You’re stubborn. You recite prime numbers when you’re nervous. You love your family more than anything in this world. You make me laugh. I like kissing you.” His fingers move to my chin. “And when I thought you might be gone”—his voice is hoarse—“I didn’t know how I was going to live in a world without you in it.”
I find my voice. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He shrugs. “Well. You were with Jeremy.”
“I wasn’t always.”
“You’re right.” He hesitates. “I guess I just never thought you could feel that way about me.”
His eyes are soft. Vulnerable. I’ve never seen Seth this way before.
“I never thought you could feel that way about me.” I swallow. “I didn’t think anyone could. After my mom left, I felt like it was my fault. And then Gen turned on me, and Fiona pushed me away, and then Jeremy was gone, and…I thought it was me. That there was something wrong with me. That no one could love me. Because of what I did.”
“Addie.” He takes my hand in his. His fingers are callused, his grip strong. He runs his thumb over my palm, over my knuckles. “I’ll say it again and again until you believe it: It wasn’t your fault.”
“What I did to Jeremy is.” I meet his eyes, but I don’t let go. “And the way I was to Fiona—the way I never wanted her to do what she wanted, just wanted her to stay here with us—”
“So you’re not perfect,” he says. “So what? I have a news flash for you: I’m not, either.”
I laugh. The sound is strange, too bright, bubbling up like that in the dimness of my kitchen. But it also feels like the sun breaking over the horizon, just a tiny orange streak after a long dark night—the start of something new.
“I love your imperfections,” he says. “And I love you.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“So what do we do now?” is what I come up with.
He lets out a breath. “We testify at Kendall’s trial. And then…”
I grip his hand tighter. “I start at Rutgers.” It feels odd thinking about my future when just days ago I thought I wouldn’t have one at all. “And maybe once Davy graduates—”
Seth is shaking his head before I finish. “I think you have to stop putting your life on hold. Nothing is going to hurt Davy now. He’s a big boy. You can leave if you want to—try for Stanford if you want to.”
“And pay for it how?”
“A scholarship? I know Rutgers is already paid for and it’s too late to transfer this semester anyway—but the point is, if Stanford is your dream, you should try. Try for the life that you want.”
I exhale. Maybe he’s right.
“I got into Cambridge,” he says then. “For archaeology. My dad said I couldn’t go, not on his dime, which is why I was at Columbia this past year. But I need to get out of the city. And if my grandma’s money comes through, I can pretty much do anything I want.”
“Wow.” I try to process that. “England.”
“Yeah.” He hesitates. “But, you know, Stanford has a good archaeology program.” He says it in a rush, like he’s afraid to tell me. “Not that I’m trying to— I’m just saying, it’s a good program.”
I stare. “You’d move across the country—to be near me?”
His eyes flicker away from me. “Not if you don’t want me to. But that’s what that means to me. When I say I love you, it means I’ll do what it takes.” His ghost of a smile again. “But if you need space or—” He runs a hand through his hair. “Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want.” He lets out a laugh. “That sounds pathetic. But it’s true.” He meets my eyes again, and the hope in them is almost too much to bear.
“We don’t have to decide anything now,” he says. “I just wanted to let you know where I stand.”
I lean into him again. His arms go around me, smelling of sweat and soap. He feels warm and safe. Two things I didn’t think I’d ever be again.
I don’t know what to say. So I say what I’m feeling. “I’m so tired.”
“Then go to bed,” he whispers.
I take his hand and lead him to my bedroom. I push a pile of clothes off and throw my bedspread over my tangled sheets.
He watches me with that half smile on his face. “I don’t care that it’s a mess in here. I always pictured it this way.”
I can’t even bring myself to retort. I collapse on the bed—then pull him down with me.
“Stay?”
“Okay.”
I don’t even bother changing into my PJs. I close my eyes and hear Seth get up and go out into the hallway, hear him flicking off the lights, locking the door. Against what, I don’t know. The woods of Bier’s End have gone back to sleep. Maybe for good this time.
And then Seth has returned, is looking at me.
“Seth?”
“Yeah?”
I take a deep breath. “I think…I love you, too.”
