Never (Never, #1) (143)

He should have let him have me? I blow air out of my mouth like I’m breathing through labour pains.

I’m not fated to love him; I’m fated to hate him.

I toss the bag Peter can’t see onto the fire in front of us, and the flames swallow it with a shimmery, smoky lick.

Peter glances at me, frowning, confused. “What was that?”

I stretch my hands towards it, warm my shivering hands on my burning memory, and stare at the bag as the fire eats it, faster and faster, burning away like a piece of paper, and that day and how much I loved it begins to fade slowly from my mind the way it feels when you wake up and start to forget a dream.

And then it’s gone.

I look over at Peter, confused myself.

“I—” I purse my lips. “I don’t know.”

He pulls a face but puts his arms around me anyway.

God, he’s beautiful.

Rather statuesque, don’t you think?

Impossibly golden, especially all lit up by this particularly beautiful fire in front of us.

“Peter?” I fold myself in towards him and then stare up at him, stars in my eyes.

“Mm?” He looks down at me lazily.

I rest my chin on his chest. “I love you.”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


I have carried this story in my heart for maybe 15 or 16 years now. I can’t believe that it’s out (finally) and in your hands. Probably if you’re here, reading this, it means you’ve likely read it*—or if you haven’t read it and you’re nevertheless here, you are maybe Ben or Aodhan?.

My very first thank you that will be slightly bigger than my second one? is for Emily Jane Averill. My sister-friend, ar*teest* extraordinaire, who has believed in me and this story since we met.

I am so grateful for how you have loved me and encouraged me, in all things but particularly this thing.

I am hugely confident that I would not be here—this would not be here without you.

Number two: Ben, you big fat two. You haven’t even read this, I know you haven’t. But that’s okay, because despite this, you have been the most releasing, supportive, and selfless man. You worked so hard for such a long time so that I could write full-time and plant the seeds of all the books we’ve now gotten to share with the world. Thank you for never letting my own low expectations of myself be your expectations of me. You, along with Emmy, believed this book to life.

To Junes and Bellamy, I want to say a true and genuine, tenderhearted thank you. And also tell you that I am so proud of you, and so grateful for you, and so in awe of your resilience and adaptability. Our lives have changed so much in the last year and you have been (for the most part) very patient and gracious with me as I learn to juggle.

Maddie, we were drowning and you saved us. I will be literally forever grateful for the joy and peace you bring to our family.

Abbey, Lindsey, Ash, Darion, and Cam, for all the ways you have help our family survive. I am so thankful for you presence in our lives.

Amanda and Madie, my daily sounding boards. I couldn’t have done this without you.

To my wonderful team: Hellie, Caitlin, and Alyssa—thank you for obsessing over this story with me, for championing it, for fighting for it. Todd, for always busting balls and making me laugh. Thank you for being the wisest guy I know. Celia, a founding father in my little heart of hearts, I’ll be grateful forever for you for DMing me on Instagram and becoming my editor. Emad and the rest of my Orion family, thank you for trusting me and hearing me and being open to trying out of the box things, I love doing this with you guys. And Christa, you have loved this story in an unwavering way since the minute you saw it. Thank you for loving it so much you moved mountains to get it, I’m so glad to be doing it with you.

And then lastly, to myself in 2008, who thought of this book in a nail salon in Maroubra, who tried for years and years to write this book, with infinity start-stop-starts that bore down on your consciousness and made you doubt that you could ever be what we’ve eventually become.

You did it. You stopped only writing when you felt like it. You learned to tap into old emotions, not just seek out new and terrible ways to feel things that were worth writing about. You developed a work ethic. You’re not stupid or incapable (you just have ADHD) (SURPRISE!).

You would be both delighted at where we are and irritated that it took so long to happen (but also you are sometimes an idiot and have a tendency to be entitled; in 2023 we are still an idiot but hopefully a bit less entitled).

In 2023, I’m not totally sure if we believe in time as a linear thing, and so I say all this to you hoping that through the bending of light and time you somehow receive a vague sense of hopefulness that everything is going to be okay, because it is. It’s really very okay.