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MY THREE MONTHS ARE OFFICIALLY UP. Leaving rehab felt… weird. There’s no better word for it. I thought I’d run out the doors the second they let me, but when the time actually came, I lingered. Like my feet weren’t ready to go yet. Like I wasn’t.
As messed up as it sounds, I think I might miss it. Not the beginning—God, no—not the shaky nights and the tears and the feeling of crawling out of my own skin. But the end. The soft kind of healing that crept up when I least expected it. The peace that settled in little by little.
What I’ll miss most is Dr. Adesina. Saying goodbye to her was harder than I thought it’d be. She was patient with me when I didn’t deserve patience. She made me feel seen. Understood. Like I wasn’t broken, just bruised. She gave me her number and said if I ever felt like I was slipping, to text her with no hesitation. I hope I won’t need to. I don’t want to get that low again. I can’t.
When I got home, there was a chocolate cake waiting for me, my favourite. “Bienvenido a casa” written across it in thick white icing, with balloons tied to the counter stools and decorations clinging to the walls like they were trying too hard to say something words couldn’t.
We sat around the island eating cake, laughing about nothing and everything, like we used to before things got messy. Before I got messy. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel… good. Familiar. Warm.
But I’m not ready to accept that yet. Not completely. They’re trying—I can see that—but a cake and a new car can’t erase the last few years. It’s going to take more. More time. More effort. More than just moments of sweetness.
I’m not trying to be negative, just realistic, because I won’t be able to forgive and forget this quick. It was nice though. The few hours I spent with them today was nice.
But now? There’s only one person I can think about. One person I want to see. Need to see. Aaron.
He doesn’t know I’m out yet. I didn’t tell him on purpose. I wanted to surprise him. Which is kind of ironic considering how much I hate surprises. But something about this felt… right. Like maybe for once, I could give him something back. Just for a moment.
I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss. His lips on mine. His hands holding me like I was something fragile and precious. The smell of his cologne wrapped around me like a memory I never wanted to forget.
He kissed me like he needed to. Like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Like I was the only thing keeping him alive.
I texted his sister to see if she knew where he is—nothing. Asked Aly to ask Carson—nothing. Jack, Hasan, all of them are at Holloway and none of them know where he is.
But I think I do.
There’s one place. The place he took me every night we went driving. Our place. Where the city lights looked far enough to make the world feel small, and being next to him made it all make sense.
That’s where I am right now. It’s sunset by the time I made it. The sky is a blur of orange and faded blue, streaked with soft pink clouds like someone dragged a brush across the horizon and didn’t bother to blend the colours in. The wind is light, warm, and soft on my skin as I stare at the bridge ahead.
And then, my heart stumbles. He’s there.
Leaning against the front of his car, the same way he always does. Loose black sweatpants hanging low on his waist, plain white t-shirt hugging his chest and arms just right. He’s staring at the sky, completely still, his jaw set in that quiet, thoughtful way only he can pull off.
I stop walking. Just for a second. Just to take him in. Is that stupid? I don’t know. There’s just something about him.
My fingers twitch at the hem of my red tube top. I tug it slightly, nerves crawling up my throat.
Okay. Yes, I’m bloody nervous. We haven’t talked about the kiss. Not once. I don’t even know what he thinks of it. Does he regret it? Does he think it was a mistake?
Stop, Carmen. You’re overthinking it.
Before I know it, my feet finally move towards him, and the closer I get, the faster my heart races.
“I thought you’d be here,” I call out, my voice softer than I intended.
He turns at the sound of it, and I watch his expression shift—from surprise, to disbelief, to something so familiar it almost breaks me. His brows unfurrow, his eyes soften, and then his lips tug into a smile.
He doesn’t say a word. Just wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me in, holding me like he doesn’t believe I’m real.
I let out a breathless laugh, sliding my arms around his neck, burying my face into the crook of it.
“Carmen,” he whispers. “Fuck.” His voice cracks a little. Just a little. But I hear it. And it’s enough to make something ache deep in my chest.
I pull back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. The green eyes I can never get enough of.
“You’re back home,” he breathes out, his hands still holding me tight.
“Yeah,” I whisper. I’m back with you.
He frowns slightly. “I didn’t know.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
He laughs under his breath. “Well, I love this surprise.”
He’s looking at me the way he always does. Like I’m the only person in the world. Like I’m something he found and refuses to let go of.
“Oh, yeah?”
His smirk tilts just enough to make my stomach flip. “Definitely.”
I glance down and realise he hasn’t let go of me, his thumbs brushing soft circles on my waist that makes something flutter in my stomach.
“Aaron,” I say softly, my voice hitching a little. “I… I wanted to thank you.”
His mouth opens but I cut him off quickly. “Don’t say I don’t need to, because I do. Okay? You were there. Through all of it. When I was at my worst, when I hated myself, when I wanted everything to stop—you stayed. You took care of me. You always knew when something was wrong. Even when I didn’t.”
He tucks a loose curl behind my ear, his palm cradling my cheek now. The tenderness of it makes my eyes sting.
“I just… I don’t get it,” I whisper. “Why?”
He stares at me like I’ve said something absolutely mental. “You really don’t know by now?”
I blink at him, confused. Know what?
He lets out a breath—almost a laugh, almost a scoff—and shakes his head slowly. “I love you, Carmen.”
My heart stops. No, it crashes.
“I’m fucking in love with you. I always have been.”
The words land like thunder, and suddenly I’m not breathing. I’m not thinking. I’m just… feeling. Every part of me is on fire, and it’s not panic. It’s not fear. It’s him.
He loves me. Scratch that, he’s in love with me.
For so long I felt invisible. Unseen. Lost in the versions of myself I made up just to survive. I wanted someone to look past all of it. To see the mess and stay anyway. He did.
Aaron O’Connor saw me from the beginning. From that first day in the locker room. He saw past the act. Past the fake smiles and perfect hair and the quick comebacks.
He saw the broken, scattered pieces of me and didn’t flinch. He stayed. He picked up those pieces and somehow made me whole again.
My hands find his jaw as I lean in, pressing my lips to his. It’s soft, then fierce. Like everything we’ve ever felt has been waiting for this. His arms wrap tighter around me as he lifts me, sitting me on the boot of his car, my legs wrapping around his waist.
I break the kiss, just barely. “I love you too,” I whisper, my voice trembling, breathless.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his smile growing by the second. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I brush my fingertips along his lips. “I do.”
I couldn’t fix my heart after all the damage it went through, the pieces were too scattered, too fragile. But he took the time to pick them up and put me back together.
His lips are on mine again, and I melt into him. It’s slow, tender, and everything I didn’t know I needed. His hands settle on my hips while mine knot into his hair.
When he kisses me like this, it feels like nothing else matters. Not school. Not whispers. Not the ache I’ve carried for months. Just him. Just us.
He pulls back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting lightly against mine.
“You know,” he murmurs, “if we keep doing this, I’m gonna have to start charging rent for how often you’re parked on the boot of my car.”
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it, that type of laugh that takes you by surprise and makes your chest feel lighter. “Shut up,” I huff. “You’re so annoying.”
He grins. “That’s not what you were saying thirty seconds ago.”
I laugh again, but it fades quicker than it came. Because just like that, the fear creeps in. The future. School. Whispers. Judgement.
My chest tightens and I pull in a slow breath, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He notices the shift immediately, pulling back just enough to look at me.
“You alright, Blondie?”
I hesitate for a beat, then nod. But it’s a lie. And I promised myself I wouldn’t lie to him anymore. “No,” I whisper. “I’m scared.”
His arms wrap around me tighter, like he’s already preparing to hold the weight of whatever I say next. “Scared of what?”
I swallow hard. “I have to retake Year Twelve. Everyone’s going to know. And they’re already talking about me going to rehab. What are they going to say when I show up again, sitting in a class with people younger than me?”
Aaron’s jaw tenses beneath my fingertips. “No one’s talking about you.”
There’s certainty in his voice. Like he means it. Like he knows it. My brows pull together slowly. “What did you do?”
He shrugs, eyes flicking to the side. “Nothing.”
“Liar,” I huff, narrowing my gaze.
He doesn’t respond. Just presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs. “All you need to know is that no one is talking about you, okay?”
I don’t know what he did. But I do know it was something. Something big enough to shut people up. And he did it for me. Just like everything else he’s done.
I glance down, quietly, letting the weight of it settle in. “You’re going to be in Year Thirteen,” I mumble. “Felix too. JJ, Carson, Hassan. Everyone’s moving forward.”
His fingers lift my chin gently, coaxing my eyes back to his. “That doesn’t mean you’re losing any of us,” he says, voice steady. “Especially me. I promise.”
Something about that promise sinks deep inside me. I believe it. I believe him.
“Besides,” he adds, “maybe you’ll have Alyssa or Valeria in your classes. Or Jack.”
I snort. “Being in the same class as Jack would be hilarious.”
Aaron leans in, lips brushing mine. “Oh? You like his jokes, huh?”
“Awh.” I smirk teasingly. “Are you jealous, Connie baby?”
He grins at the nickname. A real, full smile—the kind that makes my chest flutter. “I love that,” he says before pressing his lips on mine quickly.
“Does that mean I get a kiss every time I call you that?” There’s a playful tone in my voice, but I’m not joking. Not really.
“I’ll kiss you for any reason.”
My heart skips, heat rushing to my cheeks. I look away quickly, suddenly shy. He immediately shifts to the side, lowering his head just slightly so he’s in my eyeline, wearing that stupid, smug smile.
“And that was a reason,” he whispers. Then he kisses me again.
And I kiss him back, pulling him closer, deepening it. My hands slide under the hem of his shirt, palms against his warm skin. The world disappears.
I could get used to this. To him. To us.
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