#builtbybrokenbells | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

builtbybrokenbells · 19 days

Text

Partners In Crime

The cure for heartbreak is truth, but what do you do when the truth is the source of heartbreak itself?

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, unrequited love, mentions of cheating/cheating, lots of pining and yearning, unreturned feelings, self doubt, anxiety, anger, depression, marriage/weddings, breakups, crying, mentions of blood/bleeding, being left at the altar, self sabotage, self doubt, eloping, kissing, confessing feelings, drinking, swearing, childhood friends to lovers, sorry if i miss any!

some Jake angst bc i guess I’m not suffering enough right now. much love, hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Jake’s POV

A rose, so strikingly beautiful in its own simplicity. The petals, blood red with intent to steal attention, surrounded by pillowy emerald leaves to frame the picture of her. The smell, sickeningly sweet. The perfume could choke you, suffocate you with its fragrant aura all whilst convincing you that you were okay, and that it would never hurt you. The silk of the petal against the skin of your fingertips, soft and inviting, forever making you wonder how anything could ever be so easy to love.

And then the hand slips, tumbling recklessly past the flowing leaves and grazing over the violent stem. The thorns, the only protection for the beauty above, sticking into your skin as the aching pain begins to spread. Crimson, not just from the leaves, now flows effortlessly from the wound produced by the one thing you’d fallen hopelessly for, reminding you that sometimes, not even love is enough to spare you from the hurt.

The skin, barely even broken, makes you wonder if you were even harmed at all, or if it was a figment of your own imagination, showing you the plausible outcome as it begged you to take a step back. As you brought your hand to the high quality wool of your suit jacket, swiping away the memory of your injury, you knew it could not be false. It hurt too badly to be anything but true, for even dreams did not sting quite the same. As you raise your fist to the oak door, one fancier than you’ve ever seen before, the ache suddenly spreads far beyond the tip of your finger, settling deep in your chest and wrapping around your spine as you wait for an answer.

Not even a shuffle is heard from the other side, and you wonder if maybe you should walk away, or if knocking was a good idea at all. You wonder if she’s in there, weepy-eyed with a smile while she stares at her reflection in the mirror and a dozen hands worked to zip up the back of her dress. You wonder what the dress looked like, if it was intricately beaded or plastered with lace, or maybe it was a silk slip that screamed elegance that matched her entirety.

You need not wonder, because wondering was never something you had to do on her behalf. You knew her, and you knew her better than the back of your hand. More than that, you were certain you had studied her far beyond what you’d ever known about the rosewood fret of your SG. You knew she was in the room, dressed perfectly in white lace extending down to her wrists, cascading delicately to the floor behind her as she walked. Her hair was twisted up, the loose pieces by her face hanging down to accentuate the warmth of her cheeks, just like always. Her hands, perfectly manicured and searching too busy themselves as she tried her best not to break a nail or chip away at the polish. She was tapping one foot against the ground, her heart beating so hard in her chest you could nearly hear it from the hallway, but despite her anxiety, she held a soft, warm smile on her lips.

She was not an open book, but you’d dedicated a lifetime to knowing her. Months and miles could separate you, and you would find her again the exact same as how you left her. Sometimes, things never changed, and thankfully, she was one thing that never wavered.

You knew her so well, and seeing her after so much time away, the same picture as you’d seared in your mind every night alone in a hotel room, was always comforting. It wrapped you in a blanket of warmth, filling your heart with so much love it might burst from your chest. She was everything, and she reminded you of that fact every time she graced you with her presence.

Unfortunately, her company often came with more than just that.

When the door opened, revealing the picture you’d already created in your mind, you were reminded of that fact worse than ever before.

“Jake?” She breathed, her lips glossy and her eyes sparkling to match. Her hair was twisted up, just as you’d imagined it would be, dazzling with a clip covered in gems. The soft locks of hair hung around her face, the same ones she could never seem to get a handle on. This time, it was purposeful, and you knew she’d given in to the lack of control rather than fighting it. “I can’t believe you made it.” The smile on her face was striking, but as breathtaking as it was, it hurt worse than it helped your aching heart.

“You didn’t really think I would miss your big day?” You forced the words out, wondering why you couldn’t just appreciate the moment rather than dread the future. You extended your arm, holding out the flower, you realized it had nothing on her. As beautiful as you once believed it was, seeing her stand in front of you dressed in the wedding gown and dolled to perfection, you knew nothing could ever hold a candle to her. Not even the blood red petals and the emerald leaves.

No, especially not something as simple as that.

“Here,” you said, watching her gaze down upon the single flower held in your hand. “Figured there would be lots of white today, so maybe some color would break up the monotony a bit.” Another smile graced her lips, so big the apples of her cheeks would start to ache if she held it for any amount of time.

You wanted to see her smile, so why did it hurt so much?

More than that, why did it hurt so bad to love something that was so easy to fall in love with?

“You always know what to say, Jacob.” She whispered, grabbing it from your grasp, her eyes never straying from the ruby red petals. “I never should have doubted you.” It looked a million times better in her hands than it ever did it yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the thorns never once thought to prick her skin, fearful of harming something so beautiful.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You chuckled, finding the ache ease the more she spoke. The soft sound hit your ears, quickly making itself the most important thing in the entire room. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” And it was the truth, even if you knew you shouldn’t be saying it. “Not that you don’t look beautiful every day.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, finally looking up to catch your eye. She held the stare for a moment, and just like every other time, you could have sworn there was something there, something deeper than the surface level shit the two of you were spewing to each other.

If there was, you were still a coward, and when you thought about addressing it, your palms broke into a sweat and your stomach twisted in a knot.

Maybe if you had found the courage all those years ago, you’d never be standing before her now, watching her get married. Maybe, you would be the one waiting to marry her.

“Do you want to come in?” She asked, her eyes flickering past you, settling on the wallpapered drywall in the hallway. She blinked a few times, seemingly trying to bring herself back to reality. You wanted to ask, but you were afraid of the answer.

“F’course. Think we’ve got some catching up to do.” Catching up before she could never be bothered to think of you again, is what you should have said. After all, it was the truth, no matter how badly it hurt.

“Definitely.” She let out a giggle, throwing the door open and stepping back. As soon as you let yourself move forward, you felt like you were punched in the stomach. In the air lingered a perfume you’d spent a lifetime trying to forget. It was the sweetest smell that you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. You’d spent nights with your head buried under the covers, your lips ghosting the skin of other women to try and drown the memory of her, but it never worked. When you woke in the morning, you always seemed to yearn for the same thing. Everything paled in comparison, soured just by the knowledge that something so special existed. “Everything got pushed back a little bit, but I’m trying not to panic. The day is still good, we’re here, we’re happy, even if it is a little bit later than expected.”

Happy.

Bold choice of words, sweetheart.

“What happened?” You asked, your eyes floating around the room, taking in everything it had to offer. Bridal suites were always so feminine, divine in their own special way. Billowy curtains, a stunning aerial view of the yard, porcelain white bathrooms and neat towels folded at every corner. It was perfect, everything in place, but it wasn’t her. Although she was perfect and pristine at first glance, she loved mess. For her entire life, she’d strewn clothes across the floor, leaving water bottles behind wherever she went. She loved nature, the feeling of earth on her skin and sand between her toes. Many times you’d walk in on her, paint covering her clothes and splattered on her face because she tried to repaint her bedroom all on her lonesome.

She was perfect in her chaos, and it was one of the very things that made you love her in the first place.

You wondered if her soon to be husband loved her for the very same things. You didn’t know him, nor did you know much about him. When you talked, it was never about him, but rather the life you two once dreamed of building together. Your job had taken you away from home, away from her, and as much as you missed her, you were grateful you never had to watch her fall in love with someone else. At the same time, it made you uneasy, unsure if you could watch your best friend fall into the arms of a man you knew nothing about. You dreaded the idea that he did not love her for those quirks, and that in your time away, his subjective love had made her change.

You looked to the bed, where she would have slept the night before, noticing the sheets pulled from the corners and the pillows nearly falling off the sides. The bag that once protected her dress was flipped inside out, thrown carelessly across the foot of the bed and long forgotten. A sadness washed over you, knowing that he did love her the same way. Then, you felt guilty for being sad at all; you should be jumping for joy that such a wonderful woman was being loved the way she deserved.

Even so, you could not shake the feeling of knowing you could love her better than anyone ever had, if she’d just give you the chance.

Then again, how could she ever give you a chance when you had always been too afraid to ask?

“No point in getting into it. Doesn’t matter now, does it?” She said, her tone light and the look in her eyes far away. You took a step towards the window, taking a long look outside. Rows of chairs were placed in the large field, the pond in the background decorated with lily pads and the birds sat upon trees in the distance singing love ballads. You wanted to be happy, but your stomach felt like it was filled with lead and your bones were heavy with the weight of your grief.

Tell her.

“It is important, sweetheart. It’s always important, to me at least.” Of course you could not tell her. Every time you thought about voicing your love for her, your throat closed around the words and your tongue petrified. Your heart raced, your whole body vibrating with the intensity of the emotion you felt for her, yet sentenced to a lifetime of never being able confess your sins.

Loving her in itself was not a sin, but by god did it feel like one. It was your biggest secret, and your largest skeleton in the closet. It loomed over your head wherever you went, and it clung to the fibers of your being no matter how hard you tried to shake it off. At five years old, with mud streaked cheeks and grass stains on your knees, you loved her the same. At twelve, with cracking voices and awkward statures, you still thought she was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. At eighteen, when you were lucky enough to bring her as your date to senior prom, you swore you would never feel the same for another woman, and you still hadn’t. Just a few days ago, thousands of miles away, she was the only thing you wanted. With her wedding invitation folded in your wallet, her name in your phone with a heart beside it despite the years being unkind to your friendship, she was the only thing you ever wanted to come home to.

“No, because if I talk about it, I’ll psych myself out again.” At that, a spark of hope ignited in your chest.

“Again?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, looking out at the yard too. A few guests were sat already, preparing for the main event. The event in which would forever haunt you. “I mean, it’s my wedding, the biggest day of my life. I think it’s normal to be anxious?” She posed it like a question, like she wanted you to tell her she was wrong, but you couldn’t. If you were to have her, it wouldn’t be like this. It wasn’t fair to ruin this for her for your own selfish purposes.

“Talk me through it, maybe I can help.” You offered. She took a seat on the edge of the bed, gentle and quiet as she smoothed out the skirt of her dress.

“I didn’t picture it like this.” She whispered, looking towards the floor. “I always thought I’d wake up on the morning of my wedding day, and I’d be overjoyed. I-I mean, I am, just not the way I thought I would be. I woke up, and it was cloudy outside. The sun’s not even shining, Jake.” You wanted to sit beside her, to pull her into your arms and tell her the sun was not shining because he was not the man she was supposed to marry, but you didn’t. Instead, you stood there, yearning to be the one who she was excited yet nervous to marry. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” She huffed, shaking her head at herself.

“Stop it, you always do that.” You said, stepping towards her. She looked up at you, noticing you were closer than before. Her stare paralyzed you, ensuring you could not progress any further. “You always act like how you feel isn’t important, but it is, Y/N. To me, it is.”

“But it’s not, Jake. I just have the jitters. Once I get out there and say my vows, it’ll be better. I know it will be.”

How do you know?

How does she know that when the curtain closes and the sun draws near the earth, that she’ll be happy with her decision? How does she know that even under the warm golden hue on the earth as it prepares for the night, the uncertainty would flee? How does she know that she won’t decide he’s not the one for her, only after it’s too late?

“If you say so, sweetheart.” You nod, biting back a sorrowful smile. She was looking at you, studying you, waiting for you to say something else. You wondered if she was waiting for you to say the very thing you’d sworn yourself to secrecy about.

Of course she didn’t. She was getting married, and not to you.

Still, there was this hint of hope in her eye you couldn’t help but pick up on. It was the same hope that you so often felt when you were with her.

“Anyway, enough about me and my woes… how was Europe? I’m sure much more exciting than consoling a pitiful bride.”

Never.

You would console her every minute of every day and you would never get tired of it, nor would you wish to be anywhere else. She was what you wanted, no matter the circumstance. You wanted her for all she was, the sadness, happiness and anger combined. You didn’t want her on technicalities nor did you want only the good parts. You loved her so dearly that you’d even take the worst from her, if that was all she was ever willing to give you.

“It was good,” You cleared your throat as you spoke, finding a lump steadily growing within it.

“That’s it?” She forced a chuckle out, clearly picking up on your distance. “Give me more than that. How can I live vicariously through you if that’s all you have to say about it?” There was humour in her tone, but she meant what she said. She still wanted to be there with you.

“Yeah, it was good.” You nodded, feigning a little more excitement. “It’s beautiful there.”

“Was it everything we ever dreamed of?” The simple question hit you like a brick, the sheer weight of her words nearly making you double over in pain. Suddenly, you were sixteen again, crowded in her tiny bedroom and sharing a comforter on her twin mattress. The air was chilly and the lights were dim, your bodies close, but never as close as you wanted to be. Laughter hung thick in the air, keeping you warm just as well as the blanket as you talked about dreams and fears of the future.

Out of all the fears, you never seemed worried about her not being a part of your biggest dreams.

Maybe you had been scared of all the wrong things.

“You would have loved it, Angel.” You confessed, looking away from her so you did not have to see the sadness on her face. “I wished you were with me every step of the way.”

“I should have went,” she whispered, pain clear in her voice the same as it was in your own. “In the beginning, I should have went with you when you asked. Maybe we could have done all the things we used to talk about.”

“You still can.” The words slipped out effortlessly, and you wished you could take them back. The sentiment hung heavy in the air, both of you knowing the meaning was much deeper than it seemed. “I mean… You know, you can always come visit, see the sights and stuff.” Your cover up was pathetic, but it was the best you could do in the moment.

“You guys still want me there?” She asked, surprising you with her intrigue. You’d expected a blunt rejection, but she was humouring your ideas. You turned to look at her again, unable to keep your eyes off of her. A small smile blossomed on your lips, a real one that could only be accredited to her.

“Y/N, there’s not a day that goes by that we don’t want you there with us.” It was the truth, even if it was heavy. She took in a long breath, looking down at her attire for a moment before catching your eye again.

“I think about it more than I should.” She admitted, shy about still living within that same daydream whilst oblivious to the fact that you’d never left it. Your heart fluttered at the idea of her still thinking about spending her days with you, sharing hotel rooms and building a new life together, away from your hometown, away from him. “Come sit with me?” She asked, hopeful that you would oblige.

Josh had told you not to walk into the building, not to knock on her door with sad eyes and a broken heart. At the time, you thought he was ridiculous for suggesting such a thing, knowing you needed to see her. Now that she was looking at you, more beautiful than ever, you knew he was right. It was a bad idea to come, and a worse idea to sit beside her when you knew it would do nothing but break your heart further. As you stepped towards the bed, sitting next to her, you just hoped that you would not break her heart the same as you were breaking your own.

You were still, staring forward instead of turning your body towards her like you so badly wanted to. Then, without warning, her hand reached out for yours, settling so cautiously over the back of your hand. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, just as wonderful as it was all of those years ago. You could not remember the last time anything felt so good.

Tell her.

“I’m really glad you came, Jake.” She said, quiet as a mouse as if her confession was a crime.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. You know that.”

“I do,” She agreed, but it was strained. “It’s just… been so long since I’ve seen you. I was worried I might not be as important to you anymore.”

She wanted to be important to you. Even now, when she was minutes away from being someone else’s, she would always be a little bit yours.

She had never been yours, but in some strange way, you both had the inkling that she was.

“You’ll always be important to me, angel.” You said, feeling her perfume begin to suffocate you. It was lethal, but you knew if you walked away, you would beg to come back just to die at her hands. “Do you remember when we were kids and you used to dream about this day? How I always told you I’d be here to hold your hand through it, just so you don't get scared and run away?”

“Yeah,” she let out a small laugh, but her mind was far away. You wondered what she was thinking, and you wondered if you even wanted to know. As terrible as it was, you hoped she was thinking about you. “How tightly can you hold my hand?” She asked, her tone airy and light, like she wheezed the words past her lips.

“What?” You asked, keeping the smile on your face as you turned your head to look at her. There was something unfamiliar in her eyes.

She was afraid.

For the first time in your life, you had to swallow the fact that the bravest person you knew was afraid of the future. No matter the circumstances, she had always been prepared. Even when your bags were packed and you held a plane ticket in your hand, ready to fly away from everything you’d ever known, away from her, she was not scared. You were terrified, tears in your eyes with shaking hands, but she never wavered and instead, encouraged you to follow your dreams. She kissed your cheek and hugged you tight, reassuring you that you could do anything you put your mind to.

If that was true, you would be able to say the words.

Jesus Christ, Jacob. Tell her. Time is running out.

You felt panicked, waiting for her to respond. You needed to say the words, but they were stuck in your throat again. You didn’t want to lose her, but your own cowardice was seeing that through.

“I want to run.”

Please, Y/N, run away.

Don’t do this.

“Why, sweetheart? I thought this was what you wanted? You looked so happy in the pictures on the invitation.” Convincing her to leave would be selfish, and she needed you to be selfless. You would be anything she needed, even if it was not what you wanted. “Is… is he good to you?”

“Oh, yeah.” She nodded, solemn in her answer. “He’s great.”

“…but?”

“But, I don’t think he’s what I want.” The words were like a breath of fresh air, a million pounds lifted off your shoulders. You were so featherlight that you felt like you were floating away. Hearing her say it was a relief, but it did not stop you from feeling guilty about it. “Everyone said it was okay to be nervous, but I don’t think it’s normal to doubt it. My mom said she was nervous to marry my dad, but she was so certain he was what she wanted. I’m… I’m not. I don’t know if I’m ready to give up my freedom, my last name. I don’t know if I can commit to him for a lifetime, because I can barely even commit to him right now.”

You wanted to ask. You needed to know if that meant what you thought it did.

Fucking tell her.

“I woke up today sick to my stomach, and it hasn’t stopped. I’m sitting here, and… ugh, fuck.” She groaned, her free hand flying to her forehead in exasperation. “I’m the worst, Jake. He’s so good to me, and I just… I don’t want him to be. The last few months, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to leave. If I do and nothing changes, then I’m the bad guy, and I don’t want that. It’s just… I love him, but I’m not in love, I don’t think. It’s boring, and every day is the same. When you’re in love, boring is nice, but this boring is just… boring.”

“Keep talking.” You encouraged, knowing that no matter which way it went, she needed to speak her mind.

“He doesn’t want to do anything. We don’t go anywhere, we don’t go on dates. We just sit at home and stare at each other. It’s been months since we’ve had fun, and I don’t know if I want a lifetime without fun. Even today… I didn’t want this. The big ceremony and the expensive dinner… it’s not me. I hate it, and he thinks I love it.”

You knew it wasn’t her, but you wanted to believe that she was the one who picked it. Hearing her say it broke your heart, knowing that this was not what she dreamed of when you two were kids. It was not what you wanted for her, either.

“I kicked my bridesmaids out because I needed time alone to calm down, and I thought it would work being away from the wedding stuff for a minute. I guess it did, but it wasn’t in the way I hoped it would be.” You reached into your suit jacket, your fingers searching for the inside pocket. They closed around the cool metal, pulling it from its hiding place as you extended your arm towards her. You knew you would need it to get through the day, but you didn’t expect her to need it, too. She looked down at the flask, her lips quirking into a soft smile. She grabbed it from you, placing her painted lips against the opening and throwing her head back.

“I’m your best man, y/n. I need to know if you want me to hold your hand so you’ll stay, or if you want me to start the car so we can get you out of here.”

“Don’t give me that option.” She chuckled, shaking her head as the whiskey burned her chest. Her cheeks turned rosy in reaction to the alcohol, reminding you she was still the same girl she was all of those years ago.

“Why, ‘cause you’ll take it?” You challenged.

“Yeah,” She nodded, answering without hesitation as she watched you take a sip, too.

“Then that’s your answer, doll. Don’t force yourself to stay when all you want to do is run. You feel that way for a reason.” Suddenly, convincing her to leave was no longer your best interest, but hers, too. You did not care what happened outside of the room so long as she was happy, and it appeared to you that she would not be so long as she stayed.

It just so happened to be the option that would make you the happiest, too.

“Thought you were supposed to hold my hand and make me stay? That’s what I always told you to do.”

What if I don’t want to do that?

“Is that what you want?” You asked, noticing your hand still held tightly in her own. She didn’t seem to want to let go.

“No… maybe? I don’t know.” She sighed.

“I always promised I’d do what’s best for you, Y/N, and if holding your hand and making you stay isn’t what you want, I don’t know if I can do it.”

Tell her.

“Would you hold my hand and help me run away?”

“That’s what best friends do, is it not?” You grinned, taking another sip from the flask.

“A best friend would tell me I’m insane, I think.”

“Right,” you give a slow nod, chuckling to yourself. “We’ve always been more like partners in crime, I think.”

“I’d say.” She laughed, nodding with you. “I missed you, Jake.” Your hand tightened over hers, your heart beating a million miles a minute. She held your stare, again adorning that same hopeful glimmer.

Is this what she wanted, or were you only seeing it in such a way because you wanted it so badly? Was she dropping you hints, or were you crazed by how dearly you loved her? Worst of all, should she actually run, or were you encouraging it because you couldn’t stand the thought of her staying?

“I missed you too, sweetheart. More than you know.”

“I feel good, Jake. Better than I have all day.” She confessed, intertwining your fingers with her own and rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand.

“Maybe you just needed to get it out and get on with your day?” You offered, saddened at the thought.

“No,” she shook her head, her voice quiet again. “It’s ‘cause you’re here. Been looking forward to today, but I think the only reason why is because I knew you’d be here.”

Love could not begin to describe how you felt for her, especially after hearing her say such things.

“Is that bad? I’m more excited to see you today than my future husband.” She said, her face plagued with guilt and her beautiful smile fading into a frown. In an instant, your hesitancy faded and you reached your hand out to cup her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, relief showering the both of you. Touching her felt like finally being home after a nasty bout of homesickness. You ran your thumb over her cheek, the makeup littering her skin not even thinking of smudging under your touch.

She was not the thorny rose that hurt you. She was not a beautiful thing that hurt to love. She was the petals, beautiful and breathtaking, and you were the thorn drawing your own blood.

Not once in this lifetime had she ever hurt you. You had become the one who was an expert at harming yourself. In that moment, the ache in your chest had nothing to do with how easy she was to love, and everything to do with the fact you had always been too scared to say it aloud. Relationships with others and miles between you could not dampen the adoration you felt for her, but that was not her fault. If only you had the strength to tell her, maybe the hurt would ease for both of you.

“I want to have fun with him, like the two of us used to have. I want every minute to seem easy, like it does with us, but it isn’t. It’s hard more than it’s ever been simple, and I don’t think that’s how I want to live my life.”

Was she saying it? Were you hearing the words you’d forced yourself to hold back? Was she saying everything you had been feeling all this time?

Tell her, Jacob.

“Even if I do change my mind, I’ve been in here all day saying these terrible things. How can I go out there and marry him after doubting it so much?”

She wanted you to answer her questions, but it was a dead end for both of you. If you encouraged it, it would be an admission of betrayal for her. You were her best friend, the one person who promised not to hurt her. If you encouraged her to run, you might be hurting her far more than it would help her. If you told her to stay, you were faced with the haunting feeling that both of you would look back on this moment and regret the decision.

“Answer this,” you said, keeping your gaze on her as you spoke. “In thirty years, if you marry him today, will you regret staying? Or if you leave, will you look back in thirty years and feel like you made a mistake?”

“I-I can’t answer that Jake. I don’t know.” There was a glossy look in her eye, one that spoke volumes. It was louder than any word she had spoken thus far. The fear and hesitation was clear in her face, and you wanted to comfort her, but you did not know how.

When you got on that plane, flying home to her, you never expected to be faced with such a situation. You never expected to feel hopeful about today, especially after you had spent so many months dreading it.

“I guess… it would be easier to regret leaving than regret staying, right?” She breathed. “If I stay, I’m wasting thirty years. If I leave, I can spend that time learning to love life in other ways, and maybe I’ll never think it was a mistake at all.”

“Right,” You nodded, looking back out the window, noticing people filling chairs. Your heart dropped to your stomach, wondering if she would follow through with her thoughts, or if she would stay out of obligation. Could you keep her occupied for long enough so she could come to the right decision? “I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart, but I can support whatever you decide.”

“Will… will you take me to Europe with you?” She asked, her eyes pooling with unshed tears. “You’re going back, right? I-I… I want to do what we talked about. I want to travel the world Jake, with you.” She stammered out, as if she couldn’t believe her own words. “I know I sound crazy, I know I do, but I’m not. You’re… you’re my whole world, the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. You’re my best friend, and there’s so many things we promised that we never got to do. I don’t want to miss out on that, or be stuck in my hometown knowing I made a mistake by letting you walk away again.”

“Y/N,” You warned, wondering if she realized the extent of what she was telling you. Suddenly it all became real, and it was much larger than the fantasy you had been living in since you sat down beside her.

Josh was right, and you were breaking your own heart by entertaining an impossible idea.

“No, don’t tell me I’m wrong. I dont want to hear it.” She shook her head, silently pleading with you to be honest with yourself just for one second.

She felt it too. You have to tell her.

“Jake, take me to Europe. I want to see the world. I want to be with you again, and Josh and Sam, and Danny too. I want that more than I’ve ever wanted this. I don’t want to wait a year before I see you again and… I just, I can’t.” She was saying it in every way she knew how, without having to say the actual words aloud. “He’s not the person I should be marrying, Jake.”

You wanted to tell her everything, how you wanted it even more than she did, but it was not right. She was nervous, second guessing because of cold feet on the biggest day of her life. You could not take her away from this and ruin everything. You could not take her away and have her regret choosing you. Making her unhappy would be the biggest mistake of your life, and you would never be able to repent from it.

“Listen to me,” you said, taking her face between your hands, gentle and telling of all the love you had for her. “You wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t right, sweetheart. You are the most self-assured, smart, and level-headed person I know, and right now, this isn’t you. You’re getting married, angel. You’re going to go outside and walk down the aisle and steal everyone’s breath away, because you are the most beautiful thing that’s ever graced this earth. You’re getting married, and you’re going to be happy. I promised you I’d be here to hold your hand so you couldn’t run, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Jake,” she protested, her bottom lip quivering as tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. “What happened to whatever I decide? What happened you supporting me no matter what? Why would you let me say all of that just to tell me I’m wrong?”

“Maybe I lied,” you whispered, swiping away a stray tear. “Trust me when I say, I want you to come with us so badly, but I don’t want you to regret it. Right now, I think you will.”

“I won’t, Jake. Been thinking about it since you got on the plane last time. Every time, really.” She shook her head, panic beginning to set it. More tears made an appearance, and you did your best to wipe them away as soon as they fell.

You loved her enough to do what was best, even if it killed you to do it.

“Don’t cry, angel. Only happy tears, today.” You hummed, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you as if her life depended upon it. You held her just the same, knowing she had no idea how much it meant to you to have her in your arms. She had no idea how much it meant to you that she wanted to go with you, instead.

That was the reason you had to make her stay, though. You could not in good faith allow her to run away, because deep down, the motive would always be just a little bit selfish.

“I love you, Jake.” She said it with so much conviction that it was hard to ignore. She said it like a confession, rather than a fact.

“I love you, sweetheart.” And yours was a confessional statement too, even if she did not realize it. Just as the words left your lips, a knock sounded on the door. It forced the two of you apart, even if it was painful for the both of you. You brought your thumb to her face again, carefully swiping away the specs of mascara that had fallen. Her sadness plagued her, but it did not stand in the way of her beauty. Once she was back in perfect condition, you urged her to answer the door.

She stood, white gown flowing angelically behind her as her fingers wrapped round the golden doorknob. She pulled it open, now face to face with her mother, who was so busy jittering with excitement she failed to notice the grief written across her daughters face. She looked in the room, her eyes landing on you and widening with a joyous shock, happy to see you had made the occasion.

Would her mother be this happy if she knew you almost ruined her daughters big day?

She barely uttered a greeting before turning back to the girl you loved so dearly. “It’s time, sweetheart. Your dad is waiting outside. Are you ready?”

Are you ready? The question pounded in your ears like a drum, louder with every passing moment.

Is she ready?

Are you ready?

Tell her, Jake.

She looked back at you over her shoulder, stunning and breathtaking as if she was waiting for you to answer for her. Her mother watched you, only slightly concerned about the tension in the air.

“She’s ready.” You forced a smile, nodding your head. Her eyes caught yours as she pleaded with you to stop, to stop everything and stay in the room with her for just a little while longer.

She wanted you, the same as you wanted her, but you were not good for her. You were just the thing that was standing in the way of her forever. If it was meant to be, it would have happened all of those years ago.

Right?

Tell her.

“Will you walk with me?” Her voice, sweet as honey and smooth as silk, settled deep somewhere in your heart with no intent to leave. Would you walk with her? Could you handle such heartbreak?

“Of course, sweetheart.” You nodded, taking a stand. You straightened out your jacket, drawing in a long breath as reality began to take hold.

This was it. The very thing you’d had nightmares about your entire life. The love of your life, vowing to love someone else for the rest of hers.

Her mother straightened her hair for her, running a soft hand over the line of her shoulders where lace met soft skin. She ensured she was pristine, not a thread out of place before kissing her cheek and promising to meet her out there. She looked at you only, her gaze never faltering.

She wanted you, Jacob. Only you.

Her mother disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in heavy silence once again. It felt like weights were tied around your ankles, holding you there and sentencing you to an eternity spent in limbo.

Tell her.

“Let’s go, angel.” You said, taking a step towards her. Her eyes, pleading again, but her mouth did not move. She stood, stoic and statue-like. She was petrified from her own heart, unsure if she could take the heartbreak of having you give her away.

“Okay.” She whispered, her throat scratchy and her hands trembling. She reached out to you, the action telling you she still needed you to hold her hand and make her stay. You grabbed on to it, lacing your fingers together once more, unable to ignore how right it felt. “Please stay with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving you.” Your chest was tight, burning with rage towards yourself. Why couldn’t you do it? Why were you biting your tongue if it was only hurting the both of you more? You swore yourself to secrecy, letting yourself believe that the truth was more painful than silence, but that was no longer true. The truth would set you free, and possibly even allow you to love the one thing you never allowed yourself to have.

The hallway was barren, but voices were in the distance. Happy, bubbly, excited. The echoes were the exact opposite of the emotion hanging between you two. She should feel that way. Why didn’t she feel that way? She was happy before you showed up, stealing the light from her eyes even on her biggest day.

Was she, though? Really and truly happy?

You two walked together, the personification of grief becoming you both despite the joy you were supposed to be feeling. When you neared the end of the hallway, you had to stop. The world was spinning, seemingly crumbling before your eyes. Your stomach was sick, your palms sweating and your knees ready to give out under your weight. You couldn’t do it, even if you promised her you would.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, panicked at your sudden loss of confidence.

“I…” you trailed off, looking over her face. “I can’t,” you shook your head.

“You can’t?” You can’t what?” She pressed, anger bubbling inside of her. She needed honesty, and she needed it now. Why couldn’t you muster the strength?

“I can’t go out there.”

tell her.

Tell her.

Tell Her.

Fucking Tell Her, Coward.

“I can’t… I can’t watch you marry someone else.”

The world appeared normal, the sun still desperately trying to peek out from underneath the clouds and the birds still singing their pitiful love songs. The chatter remained in the hallway, unchanged and unbearable. Her hand still rested in your own, and her eyes were still watching you. Your heart was still beating, and your knees did not give way. The same look was on her face, and the glimmer in her eyes never changed.

The world looked the same, but everything was different.

Finally, after a lifetime of holding it back, you told her the truth.

“Why?” She asked, desperate to hear you say it. Her expression was not one of horror, but one of great hopefulness. “Tell me Jake. I need to hear you say it.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You rasped, your own throat dry as your words came out with a nervous wobble. “I can’t watch you marry him, because I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck, Jake.” The words hit you hard, like a knife even though she did not brandish them like a weapon. “Took you long enough, don’t you think?” You we’re too immersed in your own confession to care about her chastise. You opened the flood gates, and now there was no sign of stopping.

“When we were five, I loved you. Way back when we used to make mud pies and play pretend in my parents’ front yard, I wanted to do it with you for the rest of my life. When we were twelve, I loved you. We didn’t know what love meant, but we knew how much we meant to each other. When we were sixteen, making plans in your bedroom to travel the world together, I loved you so much it hurt. Right now, I love you the same as I did then, but even more so, because I know what it means, and I know it’s never going to go away.” You confessed, feeling the weight of the world being lifted from you. “Europe wasn’t everything we dreamed of, because you weren’t there. You weren’t there, Y/N, and I spent every night wishing you were. I came home to watch you get married, but I can’t do it, because I love you too much.”

“I can’t get married, Jake.” She said, looking over her shoulder to ensure nobody was onlooking the situation between you.

“I wanted to encourage you, to make sure you followed through with it because you deserve this life, sweetheart. You deserve the house, the dogs and the expensive ring and fancy wedding venue. You deserve everything, but I was always so afraid I couldn’t give it to you. Right now, I’m afraid that nobody could ever give you what I could, because nobody could ever love another person this way, this much.”

“You give me everything, Jake. You gave me the world when we were five, and you’re giving me the world right now, without even knowing it.” She said, the tears rushing to her eyes again. “I can’t get married to him, because I only ever wanted to marry you.” Her cheeks were damp with her misery, feeling guilty on behalf of a man she did not love nearly half as much as you. “I made this life, this new dream because you left, and I was afraid I’d never get the chance to live out the dream we made when we were kids. I spent all day unsure if I was making the right decision, but you showed up at my door, and now I know that I’m not. Marrying him has never been the right decision, and if I go out there, I’ll be looking for you in the crowd, wishing it was you standing beside me, instead.”

“Make the right decision, then.” You pleaded, knowing you could not make the first move. “Make the right decision, Y/N, because I’ve always been too scared to do it myself. Make the right decision before we lose our chance, please.”

She sprung forward, her hand slipping from yours and instead wrapping around your neck. One hand anchored on her hip and the other cupped her cheek, drawing her into you as she pressed her lips to your own. It was a feeling you’d been waiting a lifetime for, but the daydreams never came close to how it truly felt.

You told her, and she made the right decision, just like it was always meant to be. You’d been so afraid of something you never needed to fear, because she loved you just the same.

You could feel her tears on your cheeks as she pulled away, but the smile on her face contradicted the inkling of sadness that lingered on her skin.

“Happy tears, Jake.” She said, her face still so close to your own. “I’m happy, now. I’m not second guessing it, because I’ve spent the last six months making sure this was how I truly felt. Today was the last piece of the puzzle. You walking in that door made everything make sense. As much as it hurts to leave him here, it would hurt him much more if I married him while I was in love with someone else.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You said, running your fingertips over the soft skin of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed again, enamoured with the feeling of you touching her.

“Don’t be,” She shook her head. “I could have said it too, but it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is we said it now, before it was too late.”

“You’re dad’s gonna kill me.” She let out a laugh, the first genuine one since you got there.

“No, he’ll be fine. He likes you much more than he likes him.” She assured you. “My mom, though, is a different story. She’ll get over it.” She promised, leaning forward and pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “But, if we’re gonna make a break for it, we should go now, before anyone comes looking for us.”

“Right,” You grinned, nodding in response. “Let’s go get your things. I’ll text Josh.”

“He’s here too?” Her face lit up at the knowledge. You nodded, smiling at her joy.

“Everyone is.”

“Oh, god. They’ll be a witness to my craziness.” She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. The emotion was high, surging through the both of you like never before.

“Your crazy is mine too, angel.” You said, giving her hip a squeeze. “Partners in crime, remember?”

“Right.” She said, grinning up at you.

Without another word, she led you back towards the suite. You closed the door behind you, giving her just enough time to grab the most important things. You watched her scribble a note down on the back of a wedding invitation, likely an apology for the now ex-fiancé she left hanging. As you watched, you couldn’t help but smile, falling more in love with her by the second and only feeling slightly bad for the man she was leaving behind. He was losing the best girl in the world, but you could not dwell on his loss, because it was your gain. You were walking away with the love of your life, and he was losing a fiancé. You were sure the poor guy could find someone else.

To you, if you lost her, you knew there would never be another. Even before you lost her forever, you knew that to be true.

She turned to you, frazzled but still stunning despite her panic. She had a few things clutched tightly in her hand and a change of clothes in her arms, walking towards you and showing you she was not regretting her choice to leave. If anything, she was over the moon, and you could see it in her eyes. Instead of uncertainty, there was happiness sparkling within the beautiful hue of her irises.

“You want me to take that?”

“Yes please.” She breathed, handing the small items off to you. As you grabbed them, you noticed her finger was now ringless. The shiny diamond was sitting atop the goodbye letter, which was stuck in plain sight. “Tell me I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not.” You assured her. “Like I said, if you are, I am too.”

“I’m okay with being crazy together.” She said, more light in her eyes than ever before.

“The guys are gonna meet us in the lot out back, so you can get out of here without any questions. We can worry about the rest later.”

“Okay,” she nodded, a nervous jitter running through her.

“Hey, we’ll be okay. Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.” She said, certain in her answer.

“Then let’s get out of here.” You grinned, opening the door for her. She was still in her dress, her change of clothes held tightly to her chest. Before she stepped back into the hallway, she kicked off her heels and kissed your cheek as she passed by. As she sprinted down the hallway, your whole body flooded with love, but this time, you did not need to hold it back. After a lifetime of surpressing it, it finally had somewhere to go.

In true crazy fashion, as you sprinted behind her, another idea popped in your head. You wondered if her crazy had run out, or if she was just crazy enough to go along with it.

You thought you ought to try, because the day had been full of pleasant surprises. After all, the worst she could do was say no.

“Hey,” You called out to her, laughing as she looked back at you over her shoulder. “Slow down for a second.” You pleaded, childlike joy reflecting on both of your faces.

“What’s up?” She asked, a little breathless as her feet slowed to a stop. “Please tell me you’re not changing your mind.”

“What? F’course not.” You waved the idea off, knowing it was completely incredulous. “How impulsive are you feeling right now?”

“Considering I just ran away from my own wedding, I’d say very. Why?” She grinned, her fingers lingering over the handle of the back door, ready to flee at a moments notice.

Perhaps she wasn’t impulsive at all, and the idea of staying was harder for her than trying to leave. She was waiting for you to ask, all of this time. Even as she forced herself to marry someone else, all she ever wanted was you.

“Why waste the dress?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. She watched you for a moment, stunned at your words and unsure if she understood.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you began, checking over your shoulder to ensure nobody was looking for her. “Why waste the expensive dress? Marry me instead.” Her eyes widened, but she did not look horrified at the prospect. “I mean, come on. You’re in a wedding dress, I’m in a suit, I can buy flowers anywhere, and I want to be with you so bad I was willing to object the whole thing in the middle of your vows. If it hasn’t changed in twenty years, I’m sure it won’t change tomorrow.”

“A-are you sure? Like, really sure? You won’t regret it in the morning?” She asked, curious if you were in your right mind.

“I wouldn’t regret it in a million years, my love.” You promised. “I promise I’ll do it right, I’ll buy a ring and we’ll do a ceremony when the smoke clears from this disaster.” You both let out a laugh, knowing that’s exactly what it was. “But why waste the dress, especially when we know what we want?”

“Okay, crazy.” She nodded, cracking the door open. “I’ll marry you. Why waste the dress?”

“You mean it?” You followed behind her, noticing the rocks littering the paved lot and her shoeless feet. You reached out, grabbing her arm before she could step outside. She looked at you, then looked down at you taking your shoes off for her to wear. Her cheeks tinged red, a silent thank you dancing in her eyes as she jumped into the shoes that were just a little too large for her. You looked out into the lot, finding your three brothers standing by your car, waiting for you to join them.

“F’course I do, Jake.” She said, giving your hand a squeeze. “Partners in crime, right?” You couldn’t seem to stop the smile from blooming once again.

“Partners in crime.” You confirmed, stepping outside into the warm afternoon air.

“I love you, Jake.” She said, the sun shining down on her beautiful face, illuminating her in the most perfect picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. “Feels so good to finally say it.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You replied, taking in your surroundings. As you watched the sunlight shine over her face, your heart soared with affection. “Look,” you said, catching her attention. First, she looked to you, then followed your finger to the sky, where she could see the sun had finally broke free from the clouds, shining down without a single thing brave enough to stop it. “The sun is shining after all, sweetheart.”

As if you needed anything else to solidify that you had made the right decision, but the sun shining, eager to carry you home to start over only correctly this time, was enough to assure you of the importance of your choice. As you led her to the car, watching her eyes light up as she greeted your brothers, you were sickened at the idea you ever had a single shred of doubt at all. She was your partner in crime, whether that be at five years old, or eighty, and you were eternally grateful for that fact alone.

135 notes · View notes