BooksBarbecue
Back Any Way the Wind Blows
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

He turns on the sofa, pulling one leg up, to face me. His fists have dropped to his thighs. “How?”

“How what?”

He looks in my eyes. He looks like a dog trapped in a snare. Like he’s begging me to set him free from something. “How would it have been different if I’d tried?”

I huff out a breath. “I can’t answer that. How would I know that?”

“Baz…”

“What do you want from me, Snow?”

He’s breathing through his teeth. “I just—”

“You just.”

“I mean—”

“You mean.” I wonder if I sound cruel. I wonder if I mean to be.

“I want to try!”

SIMON

That came out wrong. Like a threat. Like an armed robbery.

Baz is looking down at his lap. He pushes a lock of black hair behind his ear.

“It’s okay,” I spit out, trying to reel things back. “I don’t expect—You don’t owe me—”

“Shut up, Snow.”

I shut up.

I think Baz is still crying.

I’m so bad at this. At people. At him. I shouldn’t have come here. I stand up—

His hand latches on to my wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

I sit down again. “Okay. Sorry.”

Baz doesn’t let go. His hand is cold. He’s still looking at his lap. “What does that mean?” He sounds careful. “That you want to try?”

“Just what I said. That I want—That I wish I could—That I would like to—” I clench my jaw for a second. “Try. With you. To see … if it could be different.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to give up.”

Baz scowls up at me. “Am I a video game you’re trying to beat?”

“No!”

He pulls on my arm, but doesn’t pull me close. “Then why?”

“Because you were right! I didn’t try. I gave up on us. And I can’t—I can’t live with myself—”

“I don’t care!”

I take Baz’s other hand. By the wrist. He’s holding me back, and I’m holding on to him. “I can’t go on, Baz, knowing that it could have been different!”

“That sounds like another apology.”

I look in his cold, grey eyes. I beg him to understand. I’m growling again, I know it. “I want to … try. Because—Because I love you, Baz. I love you, and I didn’t think that I could keep you. But if there’s a chance … If there’s any chance at all … I can’t—I want—I need—”

Baz’s hand goes slack on my arm.

I let go of him.

I push my palms into my eyes. They’re wet—how long have I been crying? Baz isn’t saying anything, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now. I drop my hands and look up at him, desperate for a clue.