“And so I make my way across the room steadily, carefully. Hands shaking, I pull the string, lifting my blinds. They rise slowly, drawing more moonlight into the room with every inchAnd there he is, crouched low on the roof. Same leather jacket. The hair is his, the cheekbones, the perfect nose . . . the eyes: dark and mysterious . . . full of secrets. . . . My heart flutters, body light. I reach out to touch him, thinking he might disappear, my fingers disrupted by the windowpane.On the other side, Parker lifts his hand and mouths:“Hi.”I mouth “Hi” back.He holds up a single finger, signalling me to hold on. He picks up a spiral-bound notebook and flips open the cover, turning the first page to me. I recognize his neat, block print instantly: bold, black Sharpie. I know this is unexpected . . . , I read. He flips the page.. . . and strange . . .I lift an eyebrow.. . . but please hear read me out.He flips to the next page.I know I told you I never lied . . .. . . but that was (obviously) the biggest lie of all. The truth is: I’m a liar.I lied.I lied to myself . . .. . . and to you.Parker watches as I read. Our eyes meet, and he flips the page.But only because I had to.I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, Jaden . . .. . . but it happened anyway.I clear my throat, and swallow hard, but it’s squeezed shut again, tight.And it gets worse.Not only am I a liar . . .I’m selfish.Selfish enough to want it all.And I know if I don’t have you . . .I hold my breath, waiting.. . . I don’t have anything.He turns another page, and I read:I’m not Parker . . .. . . and I’m not going to give up . . .. . . until I can prove to you . . .. . . that you are the only thing that matters. He flips to the next page.So keep sending me away . . .. . . but I’ll just keep coming back to you. Again . . .He flips to the next page.. . . and again . . .And the next:. . . and again.Goose bumps rise to the surface of my skin. I shiver, hugging myself tightly.And if you can ever find it in your (heart) to forgive me . . .There’s a big, black “heart” symbol where the word should be.I will do everything it takes to make it up to you. He closes the notebook and tosses it beside him. It lands on the roof with a dull thwack. Then, lifting his index finger, he draws an X across his chest. Cross my heart.I stifle the happy laugh welling inside, hiding the smile as I reach for the metal latch to unlock my window. I slowly, carefully, raise the sash. A burst of fresh honeysuckles saturates the balmy, midnight air, sickeningly sweet, filling the room. I close my eyes, breathing it in, as a thousand sleepless nights melt, slipping away. I gather the lavender satin of my dress in my hand, climb through the open window, and stand tall on the roof, feeling the height, the warmth of the shingles beneath my bare feet, facing Parker. He touches the length of the scar on my forehead with his cool finger, tucks my hair behind my ear, traces the edge of my face with the back of his hand. My eyes close.“You know you’re beautiful? Even when you cry?”He smiles, holding my face in his hands, smearing the tears away with his thumbs.I breathe in, lungs shuddering.“I’m sorry,” he whispers, black eyes sincere. I swallow. “I know why you had to.”“Doesn’t make it right.”“Doesn’t matter anymore,” I say, shaking my head. The moon hangs suspended in the sky, stars twinkling overhead, as he leans down and kisses me softly, lips meeting mine, familiar—lips I imagined, dreamed about, memorized a mil ion hours ago. Then he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him, quelling every doubt and fear and uncertainty in this one, perfect moment.”

“He turns another page, and I read:I'M NOT ETHAN. . .. . .AND I'M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP. . .. . .UNTIL I CAN PROVE TO YOU. . .. . .THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS. He flips to the next page.SO KEEP SENDING ME AWAY. . .. . .BUT I'LL JUST KEEP COMING BACK TO YOU.AGAIN. . .He flips to the next page.. . .AND AGAIN. . .And the next:. . .AND AGAIN.Goose bumps rise to the surface of my skin. I shiver, hugging myself tightly.AND IF YOU CAN EVER FIND IT IN YOUR ❤ TO FORGIVE ME. . .. . .I WILL DO EVERYTHING IT TAKES TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU. . .He closes the notebook and tosses it beside him. It lands on the roof with a dull thwack. Then, lifting his index finger, he draws an X across his chest.Cross my heart.”

“I open my mouth to, I don't know, apologize again maybe. But he takes my face in his hands and presses his forehead to mine. And he's so close that I can feel his little warm breaths, and all I know is that when he draws his next breath, I want to get sucked in.Our lips touched, almost as soft as not touching at all. Then they press closer to each other, draw back uncertainly, touch again. There is warmth shooting through my broken body where there should be pain, and I put my arms around the back of his neck and I hold on to him. I hold on because you never know in this place when something good will be taken away.”

“I put both hands on his chest and backed him up a pace. The black sky behind him was filled with color. I said, “Go. Hurry. You can still help. You’re missing it.”He pulled me close again and gazed down at me, tracing one finger so tenderly along my cheekbone. His finger was black, and he might be leaving an attractive blackstreak across my skin. I didn’t mind. The way he was looking at me with those light blue eyes, I had never felt more beautiful.He bent his head close to my ear again so I could hear him whisper, “I’m not missing anything”

“The shot doesn't come. He stares at me with the same ferocity but doesn't move. Why doesn't he shoot me? His heart pounds against my palms,and my own heart lifts. He is Divergent. He can fight this simulation.Any simulation."Tobias," I say. "It's me."I step forward and wrap my arms around him. His body is stiff. His heart beats faster. I can feel it against my cheek. A thud against my cheek. A thud as the gun hits the floor.He grabs my shoulders-too hard, his fingers digging into my skin where the bullet was. I cry out as he pulls me back. Maybe he means to kill me in some crueler way."Tris," he says,and it's him again. His mouth collides with mine. His arm wraps around me and he lifts me up, holding me against him, his hands clutching at my back. His face and the back of his neck are slick with sweat, his body is shaking,and my shoulder blazes with pain,but I don't care,I don't care,I don't care.He sets me down and stares at me, his fingers brushing over my forehead, my eyebrows,my cheeks, my lips.Something like a sob and a sigh and a moan escapes him,and he kisses me again. His eyes are bright with tears. I never thought I would see Tobias cry. It makes me hurt.I pull myself to his chest and cry into his shirt. All the throbbing in my head comes back,and the ache in my shoulder,and I feel like my body weight doubles.I lean against him, and he supports me."How did you do it?" I say."I don't know," he says. "I just hear your voice.”

“This way,” he murmurs and abruptly is inside me once more, but he doesn’t start his usual punishing rhythm straight away. He leans over, releases my hands, and pulls me upright so I am practically sitting on him. His hands move up to my breasts, and he palms them both, tugging gently on my nipples. I groan, tossing my head back against his shoulder. He nuzzles my neck, biting down, as he flexes his hips, deliciously slowly, filling me again and again. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” he breathes against my ear. “No,” I gasp.He smiles against my neck, and his fingers curl around my jaw and throat, holding me fast for a moment. “Yes, you do. I’m not going to let you go.” I groan as he picks up speed. “You are mine, Anastasia.” “Yes, yours,” I pant. “I take care of what’s mine,” he hisses and bites my ear.”