Have you ever watched an eclipse? Watched the moon cover the sun, sending the world dark for a brief moment. The shadows of the world rush in, no longer kept at bay by the bright sunshine. And a moment later, the sun is back, and the shadows skitter away to hide. As I watched Tate's face, it was like watching an eclipse. But the sunshine didn't come back. It wasn't hidden by the moon. It was snuffed out. Stolen away by my words.
I was the moon, and he was the sun and I had permanently blotted out that sunshine.
We stared at each other for a long moment. In the shadow of what was left of the eclipsed warmth. But even though I could see that my words hit him hard. Hit him deep. Tate didn't turn angry. He stood silent. Terribly silent. It was maddening. I could see the wheels turn, but couldn't read him.
He shoved his hands into his pockets before giving a single nod. His jaw tightened for a second and let out a shaky breath. Then to my utter and complete surprise, he walked over to me until we were only a breath away. "I hope..." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "That someday you believe you are worth loving, Allie Winters."
He turned and walked towards the door. "If you ever decide that you are, give me a call." Then Tate walked out the door, and the light when with him leaving me in darkness.
...
Tears were betrayers. They revealed a part of your insides that were meant to stay hidden. They declared your feelings that were secret. They would rather show the world what hurt you than stay hidden and protect you. And like an idiot set of betrayers, tears were flowing out of my eyeballs like they belonged to Niagra Falls. They were waterfalls, rivers, the ocean, anything and everything powerful that belonged to a body of water. It was like something had stolen all the water from the world and thrown them behind my eyelids. The tears were endless and made it impossible to deny that I was upset. Stupid betrayers. Stop carving out my insides and putting them on display.
Tate had left. I had emotionally pushed him out the door and there was no turning back. I had broken his heart and in the process burnt all of my spaghetti. It fit. I destroy everything I touch. I might as well add food to the list.
I was sitting in my bed, under the covers, one pint of ice cream now completely empty sitting on my nightstand as I started in on another. I wiped at my eyes furiously again, staring at my computer screen with bleary eyes as I watched Crash Landing on You, an adorable Kdrama that normally made everything better. But it wasn't working.
Duh, Allie. Nothing will fix this.
But I had to try. I couldn't afford to be comatose. The last time I had hurt this much, I ended up in juvie. Better to just distract myself with ice cream and cute things than allow myself to go outside. I was afraid of setting something on fire or tracking down Ashton and finishing what I had started. I didn't want to be that girl anymore. The girl who solved problems with her fists.
My phone buzzed for the fifth time that evening and I shoved it under my pillow, uninterested in talking to anyone. I wanted to be an emotional ice cream goblin by myself. No one needed a front-row seat to how I handled destroying someone's heart a few hours before.
I already had to live with my shame and guilt. I didn't want anyone else to see how awful I was. But my cave of sorrow didn't last for more than ten minutes before someone was incessantly ringing my doorbell. When I ignored it, whoever the annoying person was, began to slam a fist against the door making it impossible to ignore.
Swearing, I shuffled to the front door in my fuzzy socks and long black shirt that went down to my calves, hair up in a messy bun, pint of ice cream in hand. "WHAT!?!" I shouted through the door.
"OPEN UP ALLIE!!!" a familiar voice demanded.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, throwing open the door.
Delle stood there, arms crossed, wild red curly hair spilling down her shoulders like a mane of fire. Her blue eyes pinned me with irritation from where she stood dressed in all black. "You've been dodging my calls."
She walked past me into the apartment without waiting to be invited in, shutting the door behind her. "You know the pact. If you can't take a call, you text me. You don't ghost me."
She looked me up and down, protective older sister mode engaging. "Aaaand I was right. You look..." her eyes narrowed and sparked with fire as she reached forward, inspecting my bruised nose. And suddenly, she was a phoenix queen, demanding answers, itching to scorch the guilty party into a pile of ashes. "Who is he and what did he do?"
I threw myself into her arms, nearly knocking us both over. Delle stumbled before catching her footing and keeping us both from hitting the ground. She was silent, frozen for a beat before wrapping her arms around me so tight, it was hard to breathe. No, it wasn't her fault I couldn't breathe, something inside wasn't working right.
I had been struggling with breathing sinceâ I killed the thought as I started to cry again.
"Allie... you are freaking me out..." Leaning back, she looked me over with an openly concerned expression. "I need a name. License plate number. Maybe a sample of DNA. It will make planting evidence on him easier."
I shook my head. "No one did this."
Her eyes turned dark. "Your bruised face says otherwise. Don't lie." Delle plucked the pint of ice cream out of my hand, walked into the kitchen, pulled out another spoon, and slammed down the ice cream container on the counter. "Spill."
...
She was quiet. Opening her mouth long enough to eat bites of ice cream with a thoughtful expression. When I finished retelling her the horrifying events of the day, she shoved her spoon back into the open pint and left it there, like someone planting a flag on new land, making it clear that she was far from done.
"Okay..." she said slowly. "I knew about the Ashton thing. It's viral. A great kick to his face by the way. Made me proud to watch you take that garbage bag down. I may have watched it two or three... dozen times."
"Thanks," I muttered. I had avoided the internet like the plague. I didn't want to know just how viral my life had gone.
Leaning back on the barstool, Delle flirted with gravity as the front two legs hovered off the ground for a moment. "So Tate isn't scared off by your messy past, which he gets major points for by the way because let's face it, Ashton is a psycho who inspired your name change in the first place."
"I should have chosen a nonseason-related last name," I said slumping my head down on the cool countertop.
She gave me a knowing smile. "People tend to pick names that feel familiar when they decide to change identities. It makes the transition easier. Allie Winters works on you just as well as Allie Falls did."
Delle slipped into her detective's voice as she continued to put together a rough picture of my day. "So then Tate fights Ashton when he treats you like trash."
"Yep," I said, staring down a wall.
"And instead of thanking him for trying to help you, you tell him he shouldn't have done that."
"Yep."
"Then he basically admits that he loves you?"
"Yep."
"And this development leads you to freak out so bad that you send him packing." Delle plucks up her spoon and takes another bite of ice cream thoughtfully. "Am I missing anything?"
"Nope."
She leaned her face down, pressing it into the counter so I had to look her in the eyes. She analyzed my expression silently before coming to her conclusion. "Liar."
Freaking lie detector! "What else is there to say Delle?" I asked sitting up to look at her.
"You make it sound like he is just a crush that scared you off," she said waving her spoon of ice cream in the air.
"That's what it isâ was!"
She snorted. "Bull. You wouldn't be crying over a crush. You don't waste tears on a passing infatuation. Heck, you didn't even cry when you got smacked square in the face earlier today did you?"
Delle pointed her spoon towards my face in accusation. "No of course not. You are Allie Freaking Winters! And Allie Freaking Winters doesn't cry. You cried when our parents died and I haven't seen you cry a day in your life since then. So why don't you tell me what he really is to you?"
"He isn'tâ wasn't... anything," I growled.
It was like suddenly being in an interrogation. One moment she was my sister and the next I was the enemy. A person who was between her and the answers she sought. "Then why do all of the signs point to lies, Allie?!?"
"Can you be my sister for just one minute instead of treating me like a suspect!" I shouted.
She crossed her arms, making it clear she had zero intention of doing so. "When you stop lying to me, I'll stop treating you like one."
"You are impossible!" I snapped.
"I am aware. But we aren't talking about my glorious flaws. We are talking about your fears." She softened slightly. "Why are you so scared, Allie? You clearly like him. So what's the problem?"
I sighed, anger evaporating back into hurt, into fear. "He's... wonderful. Kind. Considerate. Basically nothing like the other guys I have dated..." I closed my eyes for a moment.
"But?" Delle pressed.
"But, nothing."
"And that's the problem?" Delle asked with a raised brow. "That he's considerate? Kind? Wonderful?"
"We aren't a good match Delle! That's the problem!" I opened my phone and pulled up the articles before throwing my phone down on the table. "And the only one who doesn't seem to get it is Tate!"
Delle picked up my phone and looked down at the headlines. Scrolling silently. "Besides you, isn't he the only one whose opinion matters?" she asked glancing up at me.
"What?"
Delle put the phone down, screen against the countertop. "You are Allie Freaking Winters." She shook her head. "You create beautiful things that make women feel confident. Hell, your clothes are the only clothes I ever want to wear." She placed her elbows on the table as she took another bite of ice cream.
"But for all of your confidence, you ask your buyers to do something that you can't seem to do yourself. You ask them to love themselves for who they are, inside and out. To wear clothes that make them feel confident and sexy in their own skin. So why is it so hard for you to see how great you are?"
I scoffed, trying to cover up a sob and failing miserably. "I know I'm great."
"It's one thing to have confidence. It's a whole other thing to love yourself." Delle stood to her feet. "I love you. Misty love's you. Michale, your old photographer loves you. I know your employees love working for you. And apparently, Tate loves you."
Tears streamed down my face again like the freaking betrayers that they were. Delle pulled me into a fiercely protective hug. "Isn't that enough evidence for you?"
"Whatever..." I murmured.
She laughed, her chin on my shoulder. "Always eloquent."
Then she took a step back, her blue eyes steady on mine, trying to make sure her words sank in. "Learn to love yourself. Then the idea of someone else loving you won't be so scary." She poked my forehead playfully. "If you can beat the crap out of your professional boxer ex-boyfriend, you can do this."
Easier said than done.
"Start with ignoring the lies and speaking the truths to yourself. Tell yourself the wonderful things about you, over and over until you believe them."
"When did you become so wise?" I asked, somewhat flustered by the open and honest pep talk.
Delle smirked. "Comes with the 'oldest sister' title... So, what are you going to do about Tate?"
That is the million-dollar question, isn't it?
The doorbell rang, pulling me from my internal wallowing. It was nearly midnight. Delle narrowed her eyes as she stared at the door. "Any other relationships I should know about?"
"No. And I have no idea why everyone suddenly shows up here at late hours," I replied shooting her a look.
Delle ignored my jab and walked towards the door, protective older sister hat back on. "State your business!" Delle shouted through the door, making no move to be civil.
"Um... I..." A somewhat terrified voice responded.
I shot my sister a glare. "Delle. Stop terrifying people."
She rolled her eyes and threw the door open and found a half startled teenager standing there with a letter. "What do you want?"
He blinked several times before holding out the yellow envelope. "Um... here... I was told to..."
Delle snapped up the envelope and closed the door in his face.
"Sweet kid," she said dryly staring down at the envelope. "Easily scared. But sweet."
Handing over the envelope, she watched me rip it open and stare down at a small handwritten note on a crisp white piece of paper. It took all of my control to look calm as I read the words, feeling another part of my life shatter.
Allie Winters,
I can make all the media publicity go away. Stop by my office anytime tomorrow. I think it's time we had a face-to-face chat.
- Laurence Royal
---
Thank you for reading chapter thirty-one! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
Delle is a truth speaker. Will Allie listen and work on being kinder to herself?
What is going on with Tate right now?
Will Allie go to see Laurence Royal? What does he want?
What do you think will happen next? Will Allie try to fix things with Tate?
CHAPTER QUESTION -Â Do you have any siblings? Do they ever offer you good advice? Do you confide in them?