Southern Heart by Madison, Natasha (best fiction novels .txt) 📕

driving me home,” I say and open the door to get out. The creaking is even louder now, and I slam the door, and he watches me walk into the house.

I slip the key in and unlock the door, not sure if Mayson will even be back. The cool air of the house hits me right away as I step in, and my eyes go to the green duffel bag at the front door. The same bag Ethan brought him over last week. My heart starts to speed up in my chest even faster than it did this morning when he walked away from me. I put my keys down on the table in the front hall.

My hands are suddenly sweaty and shaking. I lock it down, blinking away the tears climbing into my eyes. With heavy feet, I walk into the house, expecting him to be sitting on the couch waiting for me.

When I walk in and don’t see him there, I go to the kitchen and take a glass out, walking over to the sink and filling it with some cold water. My mouth suddenly dry, my eyes are fixated on the trees outside.

I hear movement in his room, and I brace myself for what is coming. "Hi," he says, and I make the stupid mistake of looking over my shoulder and seeing him in jeans and a black shirt. His hair is still wet from the shower he must have just taken.

"Hi," I say, turning back around to look forward.

"Did you just get home?" he asks, and I nod my head.

"Yeah, Grandpa just dropped me off," I say, putting the glass in the sink and then turning around. "I’m going to go change." I avoid his eyes. I avoid even walking next to him. The lump in my throat is stuck when I get into my room, and I close the door. It’s the first time I’ve done that with him in the house.

I slip into the shower, and I have to admit that I am stalling. I know he’s leaving. I know that tonight when he goes to bed, it will be someplace else. I turn off the water right before the stinging starts in my eyes, and I avoid looking in the mirror. I slip on my shorts that have blue clouds on them and match it with a baby blue long-sleeved V-neck shirt. I look at myself in the mirror and see that my blue eyes shine even more with this shirt.

I walk out, and I somehow wish he had just left without talking to me. "Hey," he says again, and I honestly don’t know what to do.

"Did you change your bandages?" I ask, walking to the kitchen and grabbing another glass. I need something in my hands so I don’t just stand here and look at him.

"Can you look at me, please?" he says, his voice low, and I take a deep breath and count to ten before looking up. I take a mental picture of him, but nothing beats him in real life.

"What is it?" I ask, standing in front of the island now, setting the glass down only because I’m afraid it will fall out of my hand and shatter.

"We need to talk," he says, and I laugh now.

"I’m pretty sure I know what you are going to say,” I say. "I got the hint when I walked in and saw your bag at the door." I don’t let him get a word in because I don’t think I can handle the bullshit coming out of his mouth. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight," he says. "It’s easy to leave when it’s dark."

I nod now, pretending I know what the fuck he’s talking about. "Where are you going?" I want to kick myself. "Actually, you don’t need to answer that."

"Your uncle got me a house," he says.

"Well, then, I guess everyone wins," I say, looking at him. He puts his hands on his hips, and his head hangs down.

"This morning…" he starts, but I put my hand up.

"Forgive me,” I say. "For putting that on you." He looks at me, and I can see that his eyes have gotten darker. "If we can forget the past week happened." I swallow, but my mouth feels like it has a cotton ball in it. "We can just continue like…"

"Continue like you didn’t tell me you love me?" he says, his voice getting louder. "Continue like I haven’t had my lips on you? Continue like leaving this morning didn’t kill me?"

"Well, you left and didn’t look back, so we can go with that,” I say, sounding hurt, and I want to kick myself.

"What the fuck was I supposed to say?" He looks at me. "Sorry, Ethan, I’ll be right back. I just want to kiss your sister goodbye," he says, his voice calm. "Or maybe I could have said, Ethan, can you give me a second because I need to tell your sister that I can see what she means."

I look over at him. "What?"

"This morning," he says slowly. "Last night, I didn’t sleep." His eyes stare into mine. "The whole night you were in my arms, and I felt calm. I felt calm, and I felt at peace. I watched the stars all night long, and not once did I think of the darkness as evil. Not one time did I dread the next minute." I put my hand over my chest, hoping to calm down the beating. "Then this morning when we sat down and watched the sunrise, the same thing happened. I saw the fucking good. For once, I looked at the trees moving gently in the wind and thought it’s a good day." He looks down now. "Then as soon as I felt that, your brother shows up." He shakes his head, looking down and then up again, and I see the anguish all over his face. "Then your brother shows up, and just like that, I’m reminded that there is no