“Not fair? Oh, so now, we’re talking about fair? Well, let me tell you how fucking not fair this is to me. I fell in love with a man whose fantasy is crawling through my window to escape reality. All the while, my fantasy is walking out that door to navigate reality by his side. I’m pretty sure that is the definition of not fair.”
“Eliza.” He shook his head.
“No. Shut up. I’m so sick of living in your goddamn fantasy. You know what, fuck it!” I grabbed his hand and dragged him out of my room.
He didn’t put up as fight as we headed toward the front door, but he threw on the brakes the moment I snatched it open.
“Stop,” he said quietly.
“Come on, Till. We’ve been doing it your way for eight fucking years. It’s my turn.” I was beyond the point of rationality. I was madder than I could remember ever being, but not one single tear fell from my eyes. I really was done.
His feet didn’t budge.
“Let’s go!” I yelled again, pulling on his arms.
I’m not sure what I was trying to prove. I just wanted my fucking way for once. It wasn’t an issue of if Till wanted me or not, loved me or not, or could have me or not. It was all about his silly little need to keep me squirreled away because he was scared I’d eventually leave. He couldn’t understand that leaving him would have killed me too. I couldn’t have done it even if the world suddenly caught fire. I would have died at his side before my legs would have carried me away.
He silently stared at me as the tears finally made it to my eyes. I walked past him, and he turned, snagging my arm and dragging me into a hug.
“I love you. I swear I do. Please let that be enough,” he pleaded, stroking my hair and holding me tight.
We were it for each other, and there was nothing but a little boy’s dream world standing in our way.
“Okay. We’ll be fine.” I sniffled and stepped out of his grasp.
His whole body sagged as his chin dropped to his chest and his eyes closed in relief.
And then I ended it.
I rushed forward, and with both hands, I shoved Till as hard as I possibly could. Catching him off guard, I sent him stumbling out the door.
He stood dazed and in shock. His mouth hung open as his eyes blinked rapidly. It was physically painful for me to witness, but it had to be done.
“The fantasy’s over. Let me know when you’re ready to use the door.” With one swift push, I slammed the door on my relationship with Till Page.
I didn’t lock it. I actually stood there willing him to rush back through. He could be as mad as he wanted if he would just open that door and walk inside. I didn’t budge until I heard his footsteps head toward my bedroom. I sprinted back to my room, and just as he approached, I slammed the window too.
His gentle eyes turned murderous. “Open the fucking window,” he demanded through the glass.
“No.”
“Open the window!” he shouted.
“No more, Till. I love you, but I’m sick of living in your fantasy. My door will always be open for you.” Tears fell from my eyes as I watched each word land on his gorgeous face. “No more windows. No more pretending.”
“Eliza, don’t do this. We’ll start over. Go back to friends.”
“I can’t go back to that. Not after experiencing what we can be together.”
“Doodle! Open the window.” He pounded the heel of his hand against the brick building.
“Goodbye, Till.”
His eyes went wide as I slowly lowered the blinds. “Stop. Eliza!” he yelled until I drew the curtains.
Half of me expected him to shatter the glass to get back inside, but I guessed that would have ruined his magical window forever.
After several minutes, I heard him make his way back upstairs, which was immediately followed by several minutes of him yelling and breaking things. I couldn’t listen to any of it. I pulled my headphones on, curled into a ball on the bed, and allowed myself to lose it too.
I couldn’t lie to myself. There was always something romantic about Till’s crawling in my window and the way it made me feel to be so special that he was afraid to use the door. He wasn’t delusional—he knew the truth. But, sometimes, in the world we lived in, where everything was a struggle, it was easy to become dependent on the things that numbed the chaos. Some people turned to drugs or alcohol as an escape. But I had Till . . . and he had the fantasy.
IT EXPLODED. ONE MINUTE, I was holding her in my arms as she came calling my name. And minutes later, she was gone. I nearly tore down the building that night. I sure as hell destroyed my room. In all seriousness, I considered prying up the floorboards and dropping into her bedroom through the ceiling. It was crazy, but that was exactly how my life felt too. Flint came to check on me, but he didn’t ask a single question about why I was suddenly on a rampage against my furniture. It was safe to assume he and Quarry had heard the whole thing and knew what a delusional fool their brother was. Outstanding.