Hypothetical Heart (Farewell Fairwood #2)

Chapter 1

1

Flashback: 3 years ago

B y the time Winnie’s date pulls back into her driveway to drop her off, the rain has completely soaked my clothes, and my body is shivering as I pace her front porch.

I’ve been sick to my stomach since I watched her leave her house, and I was close to going to the restaurant she went to when I got a text from Genevieve that said:

GENEVIEVE

I don’t think the date went well, Winnie’s on her way back.

I’ve been sitting on her porch since.

This is exactly why I didn’t want her going on this date in the first place. I had been so worried something was going to go wrong, but I had to let her leave anyway.

I sat in her bedroom as she got ready, and I didn’t say a word of protest. I helped her pick out a dress and the shoes to match.

All because I love my best friend and want what’s best for her. Even if that means helping her get ready to go on a date with another guy.

“What the hell are you doing?” she shouts as she steps into the rain, running toward where I’m standing on her porch in an attempt to stay dry, but it’s no use.

Her makeup is still intact, however, which means she hasn’t been crying. Thank God . I don’t know how I would have reacted if she had pulled into the driveway in tears.

It probably would have involved a set of keys and her date’s shiny new car.

“Please tell me you don’t see yourself ever loving him.” It’s the first thing I say, and my voice comes out as a plea. I know I sound desperate, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not above begging Winnie to give me a real chance.

It's also not what I had been planning to say. Originally, I was only coming over to make sure she was alright, not to confess my feelings for her.

Well, it’s too late now.

She ignores my question. “Are you crazy? Why are you standing here in the cold?”

“Winnie, I can explain later. Right now, I need you to answer me.” When she doesn’t answer right away, I’m forced to swallow the lump in my throat. “Do you see yourself ever loving him?”

“I don’t think I could ever even like him.” The emotion in her voice matches mine.

Looking at Winnie, her dress wrinkling as we both stand in the rain, feels like the two of us have been standing in the middle of a desert and this storm will be what saves us.

I pull her into me the same way I have every time I’ve hugged her up to this point. But this time, her frame makes it feel like I’m wrapping my arms around every good memory I’ve ever had, and I’m finally getting the chance to fully soak them up.

When she pulls away, she asks, “Now, will you tell me why you’ve been standing on my porch?”

“I didn’t know what time you’d be back,” I reply, running my hands through my hair to keep it from sticking to my forehead.

“I would have called you,” her voice strains. “I told you I would.” She did, after I demanded she call me as soon as she got home.

“I know you would have, but I wanted to be here.”

There’s a huge difference between me coming over here because I want to and me coming over because she called and asked me to. I know that difference means something to her, which is why I will always show up before she even has the chance to ask.

“What happened?” I take a step off the porch, meeting her halfway on the cobblestone path.

Her eyes keep fluttering shut because of the sheets of rain pouring down between us. Her sandals are in a puddle, and her rain-soaked appearance is beginning to match mine.

Yet I can still see the tears glistening in her eyes.

“He told me I had to choose.” I see a tear roll down her face, mixing with all the raindrops coming from her hair, and I know exactly what she’s suggesting Hayden said.

He told her to choose.

Me or Him.

The thought feels like a noose tightening around my neck. This is what Genevieve was talking about when she said the date didn’t go well.

It’s the ultimatum that will haunt Winnie and me for the rest of our lives because everyone knows the rumors.

Everyone knows how much our moms want us together and how probable it seems that we’ll end up together .

I try not to imagine the conversation, “So you told him?—”

“I told him to fuck off,” she says strongly, taking another step forward.

“Winnie,” I sigh.

This shouldn’t be how this goes.

Except, she doesn’t even look fazed. “There’s no universe where I would ever choose anyone else over you.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, taking another step forward. “Because if I need to take a step back, I can, if that’s what you really want.”

It would kill me, but for her, I would do it.

We’ve established that she can’t see herself loving him, but now I’m curious if this is the reason. She shouldn’t have to give up on the possibility of finding someone just because he didn’t like me.

If she ever got with another guy, there wouldn’t be a second where I didn’t wish it was me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand in the way of her getting what she really wants.

“You sound ridiculous.”

“I’m being serious.”

“This isn’t serious!” she shouts, frustrated that there is something I’m not understanding. “Nothing was ever going to happen between Hayden and I. You really think I would even think about throwing away my friendship with you for someone I can’t even consider thinking seriously about?”

“I just want to make sure that you’re okay giving that up.”

“I couldn’t care less about giving him up.” She pauses, looking up at the sky and letting the rain cascade down her face. “But I can’t bear the thought of getting rid of you. I made the decision, and it was an easy one to make.”

I sigh out of relief. “I would have done the same thing, Win.”

“I know.” She smiles. “I thought about the things you’d do for me, no questions asked. I know there is no one else who would go to that extent for me.”

I read between the lines of her words, and the only thing I can hear is, nobody cares about me the way you do and she is 100% correct.

There’s a break in the rain, like a sign that everything is settling.

“I didn’t mean to get mad at you earlier,” I tell her.

“I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t. It was my fault you were going on those dates to begin with. I was terrified, Winnie.”

Her face pales. “Of what?”

“Admitting how I feel about you.”

Winnie freezes. “What?”

“God, Win. I thought it was obvious for the longest time.”

She shakes her head, taking a step back. “Thought what was obvious?”

“My entire life has revolved around you, Winnie.” My lungs feel tight from my admission, and yet I keep going. “You’re right, I would quite literally do anything you asked me to. I spent my entire life loving myself enough so that you would never have to because I was convinced you never would.”

“Logan—”

“This isn’t me begging for your love, but goddammit, Winnie. I’ve spent my entire life waiting for you.” A tear falls down her face, and for a moment, I fear that I said something wrong. “Winnie, I’m?—”

“You thought you were being obvious?” She sounds frustrated. “Logan, I’ve spent my entire life convinced that we would never be anything but friends.”

“So, we feel the same way?”

“No, Logan,” she sighs, throwing her hands up. “You’ve known you have these feelings for me. You’ve just had to hide the fact. Meanwhile, I’ve spent my entire life doing everything in my power to avoid how I feel about you. There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t said to myself, you need to stop thinking about him . That isn’t something I can untrain my mind to do in a day.”

“I’m sorry, Win.” My hand finds hers, her fingers slipping through mine. We could blame it on the rain and how slippery our hands are, but neither of us wants to. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah.” She uses her other hand to wipe away tears. “Me either.”

If I ever thought it was possible for this to happen, me and Winnie becoming something more, I would have made sure it didn’t happen like this.

Because what does this say about whether we would last or not if the first admission of us liking each other has her crying in the rain?

It doesn’t seem like good odds.

“Whatever you want,” I say, tracing her jaw. “I’ll do it. Just say the word.”

She nods, trying to smile. “I want you,” she sighs. “God, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Me and you.”

“You have me.”

I t’s only three days later when my mom dies, and five days after that when I tell Logan I can’t do it anymore.

I don’t give him a reason. I don’t tell him how much it messed me up watching my dad not be able to get out of bed after losing the love of his life, and how I can’t bear the thought of that happening to either of us.

I simply walk over to his house. He opens the front door and gives my statue of a body a hug, and without being able to meet his eyes, I say, “I can’t do this, Logan.”

He looks up at me, his hurt written so deeply within his expression. It’s the type of face I know I’ll never forget. “What?”

“I can’t do this,” I repeat. He takes a step back, and I take a matching one forward. “Logan?—”

“No.” He holds his hand up. “I know you’re going through a rough time right now, and I’ve tried to be there for you the best I can be?—”

“Logan, this isn’t your fault.” I grab his hand, and he tries to resist for a second, but then he just lets it happen. “It’s hard for me to explain right now, and I hope there will come a time when I can understand my feelings fully. But right now, all I know is I’m not in the right headspace to give you the type of relationship we both know you deserve.”

“Winnie, I’m not worried about that.”

“I am,” I say, tears forming in my eyes. “You deserve the girl of your dreams, and I can’t be that for you right now, Logan. I can’t.”

“This is what we were afraid of,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.

He’s right. The whole reason we’ve never tried to be anything more than friends sooner than we did is because we were so afraid of losing each other.

“I still want us to be friends.”

Logan drops his hand from mine, and while I’m sure he didn’t mean it in a cruel way, it still feels like he dropped a thousand pounds of bricks on my chest.

“I’m trying to understand, Win, and I don’t want to push us forward when you’re not ready. I’m just hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. There’s no way for me to make him understand, and I’m not even sure he would want to.

“We can stay friends,” he says after a beat. “We have to.”

“No one needs to know it was ever anything more,” I tell him.

He nods, agreeing. “And if there’s ever a time where we think we could be something more, without the repercussions, then we will.”

“Alright,” I say.

“Alright.” And that is that.