Perhaps listening to Olivia Rodrigo on my walk before meeting Yousef was my first mistake. My second mistake was not bringing a pack of tissues, because as soon as Favourite Crime started playing, the waterworks began. In fact, I had no idea why I was crying-there was no reason to cry-but everything... everything hurt.

It feels as though my chest has caved in; like I was struggling to breathe, struggling to regain composure, if I had any left. I suck in a sharp breath, ripping a headphone away from my ear in an attempt to think clearly, but it was to no avail. There's tears clouding my vision, the sight of my heels blurring with every step forward.

A shaky breath falls from my lips, running my fingers through my hair before I tighten my coat around my body. I made the stupid decision to leave the house without my scarf, neck bared to the freezing cold. If there's one thing I hated about England, it was the weather.

I come to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, head downcast as I try to regain my breathing, attempting to thwart any unwanted memory of Judah. My mind is foggy, a blur of life before Judah, a life with Judah, and the mess that I find myself in now.

I tried my best, but sometimes, even that isn't enough. And my intuitions have always told me that nothing good would come out of this, but when you're routine involves a person, it's hard to do life without them. I've only known Judah for four months, but four months can seem a lifetime with the right person.

Truth be told, I felt like an absolute fucking mug. All I want is someone that appreciates me the way I do them. All I want is someone who is all for me, without the doubt, without the insecurity, without the double guessing. Though right now, even that seems like I'm asking for too much. Because I'm stuck up on a guy that wants nothing to do with me, and I'm starting to hate him for that. I'm stuck up on a guy who's worried about how a relationship will end before it's began. I'm stuck up on someone who clearly has no intention to be a man and tell me exactly what he wants.

For some fucked up reason, I still want Judah, despite knowing he doesn't want the same.

I don't notice the additional pair of Nike's that enter my line of sight, causing me to snap my head up at the intruder. I flinch back at the sight, gaze clashing with stormy clouds made of iron and silver. Judah's grey eyes stare back at me in surprise, the bob of his Adam's apple telling me that he's seemingly just as nervous.

Yet the sudden rage that courses through me has me reeling back, brows furrowing when I stare up at Judah. I blink... and then blink again, trying to hold back the tears. I've done so well to come this far; I did not need my resolve to break right now.

It's been nine days and seven hours since I last saw him-not that I've been keeping count-and I'll be honest, he didn't look his best. There's a part of me that wants to reach out to him, to tell him that everything is going to be okay, that I'll be there for him. There's a part of me that wants to hold him, but I shouldn't. I couldn't.

There's also a part of me that wants to tell him to fuck off, to tell him that he's the worst thing that ever happened to me. I want to hurt him as bad as he hurt me, but again, I shouldn't.

I don't want to hurt him.

Judah has been hurt enough, and by the looks of it, he still is hurting. Upsetting an already hurt person would make me worse than scum.

Instead, I curl my fingertips into a fist, nails digging into my palm and exhale harshly. Judah,I acknowledge dully, my voice barely above a whisper, lips parting as I slowly drink in his appearance.

His hair is a little longer at the front, flat across his forehead and hanging above his brows, and his stubble has grown out. He looks older. Manlier, nonetheless, still handsome. He looks like life's knocked him over and he's struggling to get back up, but I know that's not the case... and by his appearance, he looks regretful.

Hand shoved into his famous North Face jacket, his words come out a quiet muffle through his black muffler. I... Aiyana,he breathes out, unsure of what to say. I attempt to smile, though it's more of a grimace and step to the side to let him pass. How, um, how are you?

You don't get to ask me that, Judah.

I miss you so fucking much, is what I want to say.

Voice flat and void of emotion, I surprise both him and myself when I answer, blinking up at him in shock.

Judah only nods, You're right. I don't. I just... I was actually heading to yours.Bringing his hand to his face, he runs his palm down his face, proceeding to rest his hand against his forehead for a brief second. I wanted to return your journal.

Oh.

Before I know it, he's slipping his hand into his inner pocket, the size big enough to fit my A5 journal. And when Judah brings it out, I can't help but notice how small the black object looks in his hand. There's a soft thank you that I utter, though my attention is on the journal. It seems a little thicker, and the observation makes me curious to know exactly what Judah's tampered with.

We both stay standing, ignoring the frustrated huffs of passerby's complaining that we're taking up too much space. My eyes jump from the floor to the surrounding houses to the passing cars-anything to avoid Judah's state-hoping he'll speak up first.

Hoping that our conversation could last a little longer.

Yeah,he mutters to himself, averting his gaze to the cracks on the concrete floor.

Well, I'll see you around.I flash him a tight-lipped smile, and with a two-fingered wave, I step around him.

Please don't go.

I'm selfish for wanting him to stall; to say something, anything, to hold me back. To stay like this a little longer, to be in his presence a little longer, but I can't do that to myself.

Aiyana, wait,his words are abrupt. The warmth of his hand catches my wrist, tugging me towards him. My back is turned away, but when he calls my name, my curiosity gets the better of me. Judah tugs me once more and I eventually turn around; his hand is still on mine-neither of us attempting to move.

There's hesitancy, reluctancy, in his actions when he removes his hand. Almost instantly, I miss his touch. It's been so fucking long, and I don't know how much more I can take.

My eyes widen when Judah removes the thick muffler around his neck, taking a few steps forward until there was only a few inches between us. Our gazes collide, and for a brief moment, I can drown out the noise; I can drown out the passerby's, the cars. It's just the two of us.

No words are exchanged when he wraps the scarf around my neck, involuntarily tugging my hair out to cascade down my back. He doesn't look at me again, he doesn't want to, fingers pulling the material over my mouth and nose.

You get cold easily,is all he says.

And with that, the tears fire up again.

The first thing I do when I reach the comfort of my bedroom-after sorting out my ruined mascara and tear stricken cheeks-is rip open my journal. I flick through the pages, attempting to find something amiss except what greets me, is a single brown envelope addressed to me, sealed with wax.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who the sender is. My fingers brush the edges, eyes fixated on my name, written in neat, cursive strokes. I release a shaky breath and take a minute. The envelope is flat against my palms, however, it feels a little heavy, before I carefully tear the edge, finding four handwritten pages stare back at me.

It's a pleasant surprise, but it also makes me curious to know the contents of the pages. Nor does it take long before my eyes are drinking in and savouring each and every word.

Aiyana,

I don't know where to begin, but I hope that you'll read this through.

Perhaps I should start off by saying how sorry I am, but I doubt four pages will be enough for your forgiveness. I never should have said any of those things, and nor did you deserve to be on the receiving end of my anger. Though that's no reason to justify my actions.

You've done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing wrong, and I know I'm an absolute bellend for hurting you for no reason at all when all you've done is be kind to me. You're beautiful inside and out, and I can't fault you for that, so please don't ever doubt yourself because of my dumbass.

What I said was a mistake; I should never have said that it's your fault for getting led on. It's not your fault for catching feelings, because if I'm honest, I caught feelings too. I really, really do like you, Aiyana, and I wish I could take back what I said that night.

Everything was a lie. From the part where I said I don't care, to the part where I said there is no me and you, to my bullshit excuse of 'I'm not ready for a relationship'. I never found the right person until I met you. I was-still am-a coward, the biggest pussy, for ignoring my feelings, for pushing you away, for using my insecurities as an excuse. And I'm frustrated at myself for forcing myself to believe that I'm not ready; there is no wrong time, right person. You are the right person and time is right.

When you know someone is for you, you'd do everything in your power to make it work, and I never took that chance. I'll admit, I was scared. I don't want to mention her, but M̶i̶k̶a̶?̶?̶ M̶i̶n̶a̶?̶?̶ M̶i̶l̶a̶?̶?̶?̶ Mira? (I genuinely can't remember her name) was a big part of my life until she wasn't. She was everything I knew, everything I breathed, until one day, she wasn't. Her unfaithfulness hit me hard, and it's made me struggle to come to terms that there are other women out there that aren't like her.

I used to think that I was the problem and I didn't realise I acted like Mira until I hurt you the same way she hurt me. I never want you to think that you're the problem, because you're not. You tried your best-I was too blinded to see-you were there for me when no one else was and I took that for granted. And not to mention, I never should've used Kenji and Jesmyn as an excuse to push you away. That was a low blow on my part, and I know I'm wrong for that. Using your family as an excuse is always a shitty excuse, but hey, I know I'm a shitty person.

I know I've fucked up when Leilani and Dahlia have chosen to ignore me too. And Valentino? I think he's a little too embarrassed to face you. We both have a lot of grovelling to do.

Aiyana. I know you're not like her, but a part of me was still scared. I acted out. I acted like a cunt, a coward-whatever you want to call me-none of which you deserved to see. And I know this could've all been avoided had I just spoken the fuck up. I know things could've been a lot different today had I told you how I truly felt, had I told you that I wouldn't mind if we took things slow. But I know you don't want to wait around forever.

You deserve someone that cherishes you and adores you. You deserve someone that is all for you. You deserve someone that will treat you with respect and kindness, someone that makes you happy. You deserve someone that's open and honest with you, someone that is proud of you. You deserve someone that will love you for who you are, someone that won't hesitate to bend over backwards for you. You deserve someone that you can be vulnerable with, not someone who runs from showing emotions, and if you let me be that person, I'll do whatever it takes.

I want to make things right.

And I don't expect you to forgive me so easily-please, don't do that. I want to make amends. Let me grovel. Let me show you that I truly am sorry. Let me start over. Let me show you that I can be the man you want.

I know it's a little over a month away, but I remember you telling me you've always wanted to experience your birthday in Venice, so I've booked seven tickets for yourself and your friends. Dahlia and Leilani included.

Your ticket is inside the envelope.

I truly am sorry.

J.

KFJSJSJS THANK YOU FOR 300K READS WRF IS WRONG WITH YALL??? I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 💕💕💕❤️❤️❤️❤️ LITERALLY YOU GUYS ARE THE BESTEST EVER. IM SO GRATEFUL FOR YOU GUYS. ITS CRAZY CAUSE FOUR/FIVE MONTHS AGK THIS WAS AT 7k rEADS AND NOW ITS AR 300K??? CRAZAYYYYYYY

anyway, i hope you enjoyed this chapter xoxoxozo

me: *writes 2k words in one sitting for delivered*

also me: *writes 100 words for kfr in a day*

oops

questions???

also, how long will it take for y'all to forgive judah? I don't expect it to be anytime soon, but WHENNN??

also also I figured out the ending for this and it's gonna be kinda cute and kinda cliche sooooo oops ig?

n e wayssss ENJOYYYY. P.S RHIS IS NOT PROOF READ. ITS 2AM AND I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO SO FUCK FHE MISTAKES OKAY

Ig: @friesandcries.wp