Chapter Thirty-Nine: Maturity and Emotional Growth
1171 Words
Anna's POV
I don’t realize how tightly wound I am until I step outside, and the night air hits my lungs.
I lock the front door quietly behind me, leaning my forehead against the cool wood for half a second longer than necessary. Inside, my parents are still talking—voices warm, content, unaware of the storm swirling just beneath my ribs.
Ben’s laughter echoes faintly from the living room.
I pushed away from the door and walked down the steps, my phone clutched in my hand like an anchor. When Marcus’s reply came through—Yeah. Let’s meet.—I’d felt something in my chest settle into place. Not disappear. Just… steady.
The street is quiet, streetlights casting soft halos on the pavement. I start walking toward the corner where we always seem to end up when things need to be said. My thoughts trip over each other the whole way.
Ben.
The flowers.
My mother’s promise.
Leith.
Marcus.
I replay Bella’s voice in my head—not because she said anything directly to me, but because I can imagine her saying it. Twisting things. Framing moments out of context. I hate that she still exists on the edges of our lives like a bad echo.
Marcus is already there when I reach the corner, leaning against the low brick wall, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. His shoulders look tense, like he’s holding himself together by sheer will.
When he looks up and sees me, something in his expression shifts—relief, unmistakable and raw.
“Hey,” I say softly.
“Hey,” he replies.
For a moment, neither of us moves. The silence stretches, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It’s heavy. Expectant.
I break it first. “I wanted to talk before rumors got… weird.”
His jaw tightens just slightly. “Bella talked to me.”
Of course she did.
I exhale slowly. “What did she say?”
“That you and Ben were hanging out. Movies. And that he might get you an internship at Leith.”
I watch his face carefully as he says it, bracing for accusation, for hurt.
But what I see instead is restraint.
“Yes,” I say honestly. “We did go to the movies. With Oscar. And yes—Ben mentioned Leith at dinner.”
Marcus nods once, absorbing it. “Okay.”
“That’s it?” I ask, surprised.
He shrugs a little. “I figured if it mattered, you’d tell me yourself.”
Something warm spreads through my chest. “It matters. That’s why I’m here.”
I step closer, close enough to feel his warmth cutting through the cold. “Ben’s my friend. He’s always been my friend. And he does have connections. That doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to anything.”
“Would you want to?” Marcus asks quietly.
The question isn’t loaded. It’s honest.
I think about it. About Europe. About museums and summers steeped in art and history. About how my parents’ eyes lit up at the dinner table.
“Yes,” I admit. “I’d want to consider it. It’s a huge opportunity.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “And us?”
There it is. The fear he didn’t voice at the rink. The one Bella tried to exploit.
I reach for his hands without thinking, sliding my fingers between his gloved ones. “Us isn’t something I’d walk away from lightly.”
He lets out a breath, shoulders easing just a fraction. “I don’t want to be the thing that holds you back.”
“I don’t want to be the thing that makes you feel replaceable,” I counter gently.
He meets my eyes, searching. “You’re not replacing me?”
I squeeze his hands. “Marcus. Look at me.”
He does.
“There’s no competition,” I say firmly. “Not with Ben. Not with anyone. What I feel for you isn’t something someone else can just… step into.”
His eyes soften, tension melting away. “You have no idea how good it is to hear that.”
I smile faintly. “You kind of do.”
We stand there, quiet again, the city breathing around us. Then he huffs out a short laugh. “I was a disaster at practice today.”
“That checks out,” I tease.
“Coach benched me,” he admits. “Two extra hours.”
I wince. “Ouch.”
“Worth it,” he says, eyes locked on mine. “I couldn’t stop thinking that something was about to go wrong.”
“And?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Maybe it already did. Or maybe it’s just… life happening.”
I lean my forehead against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. “Life has terrible timing.”
He laughs softly, one arm wrapping around me. “That it does.”
After a beat, I add, “My mom asked me to keep Ben company while he’s in town.”
Marcus stiffens slightly. “Asked.”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “Not ordered. And it’s not… romantic. It’s dinners, museums, maybe coffee. I told her I wouldn’t do anything that disrespects us.”
He exhales. “I trust you.”
The simplicity of it nearly undoes me.
“I trust you too,” I say. “Even when you swing first and ask questions later.”
He groans. “I’m working on that.”
“I know,” I say, smiling. “And for the record? I still find your jealousy annoying.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Just annoying?”
I smirk. “Mostly.”
He pulls me closer, chin resting on the top of my head. “If you go to Europe…”
“If,” I correct gently.
“If,” he agrees, “we’ll figure it out. I don’t want fear to write the ending before we’ve even lived it.”
I pull back to look at him. “When did you get so emotionally mature?”
He chuckles. “Don’t tell anyone. Ruins my reputation.”
I laugh, the sound finally free of tension.
From down the street, voices rise—Courtney’s unmistakable laugh, Damian’s deeper one following it. They’re walking toward us, hands brushing, faces flushed.
Courtney spots us and grins. “Wow. Look at you two, being all functional.”
Damian clears his throat. “We, uh—”
“We know,” I interrupt, smiling. “Peter texted me.”
Courtney beams unapologetically. “It just… happened.”
Marcus snorts. “Seems to be a theme tonight.”
We fall into step together, walking back toward the glow of the streetlights, the night feeling a little less heavy than before.
I don’t know what the summer will bring.
I don’t know what choices I’ll have to make.
But as Marcus’s hand finds mine again, steady and sure, I know this much—
Whatever comes next, I won’t face it alone
- Writer
