The truth hits before I can stop it: Of course he got girls. Look at him. Look at this moment. Just being close to him is electrifying. It’s addicting and it’s always been that way since the moment we met.

“Nathaniel?” he says softly.

I pause the movie and turn to him. “What’s up?”

He hesitates. “Why did we never hangout at your house? I mean…where were your parents?”

The question shocks me. I guess we’ve never talked about it. Not like I never wanted to, I just…

“I—” I falter.

He backtracks. “Sorry. I was just remembering all those times we hung out in my dad’s basement. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

I take a breath. My heart pounds. I trust him enough to tell the truth…

“I lied to you.” I blurt.

His eyes search mine.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so… I’ll just come out with it.” I take in a big breath. “I used to tell you that my parents were always working but…it was just my mom. My dad left us a little before I met you. I—I didn’t want anyone to know. It was easier to say he was just ‘working’ than to say I didn’t have a dad at all.”

I exhale slowly.

“My mom worked nonstop. She did everything. And once I could, I started helping too. It’s why I work so hard to pay for myself and to help support her. I guess I…I didn’t want people to know how… how alone I really was.”

A thumb brushes my skin as he cups my cheek. I glance up to meet his eyes.

Caleb's eyes don’t look like they’re judging me, like I had feared all those years ago. Instead, he’s looking at me carefully. With compassion and understanding.

“You were never alone,” he says softly, his hand sliding behind my neck. “Not when I was around.”

I nod, eyes stinging. “I never felt alone when you were there. I really fucking missed you.”

His gaze drops to my lips.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Nathaniel. I’m sorry I missed so much time. I’m sorry I—”
His forehead presses to mine.
“I never should’ve broken your trust like that. You were my best friend and I... I was an idiot. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

The sincerity in his voice cracks something open in me.
“It was hard seeing you with her. I didn’t understand why then, but… I think I do now,” he breathes.

There it is. What I’ve needed to hear all these years.

I realize then—I wasn’t angry because of Sarah. I was angry because I lost him that night at prom. And now, he’s here.

He rubs his palm against his chest, and my eyes track the movement.
“You don’t say sorry often, do you?”

He sucks in a sharp breath, bowing his head until his hair hides his beautiful eyes.
“No... I try to avoid it if I can...”

My lips quirk at that, even as a burn rises in my chest at the thought that he pulled it together just for me.
“How does it feel?” I ask, lowly.