Almost Love, Then Everything - Chapter 37: Chapter 37
You are reading Almost Love, Then Everything, Chapter 37: Chapter 37. Read more chapters of Almost Love, Then Everything.
("Some questions change everything.
Not because of the answer—
but because someone finally cared enough to ask.")
It was past midnight.
The city outside Leah’s window buzzed with distant lights and muted sounds, but the apartment felt like a pocket of calm. The kind of quiet where everything echoes louder—thoughts, feelings, even the smallest movement.
Leah sat on the floor with her back against the couch, an old hoodie pulled over her knees, while Jade sat next to her, their shoulders barely brushing.
They’d spent the evening doing nothing in particular—sharing leftover takeout, trading lazy smiles, letting the kind of silence settle between them that felt less like absence and more like understanding.
But Jade had been quiet—truly quiet—for a while now.
Not the soft quiet Leah had grown used to, but something deeper. Thoughtful. Careful.
And then—
Jade turned toward her. “Leah.”
Leah hummed in response, not quite looking up.
But Jade didn’t let it go.
She shifted slightly, her knee brushing Leah’s. “Can I ask you something?”
Leah froze—just enough that Jade noticed.
“Yeah,” Leah said slowly, cautious. “What is it?”
Jade didn’t ask right away.
She looked at Leah the way someone looks at a fragile truth. Gently. Willing to wait. Willing to risk the answer.
Then softly—almost too softly—she asked:
“What are you afraid I’ll find if I love you all the way?”
Leah blinked.
The question settled between them like thunder after lightning—quiet, but impossible to ignore.
She didn’t answer right away.
Her eyes dropped to her hands. She pulled the sleeves over her knuckles. Her breathing changed.
And Jade waited.
Patient. Open. Not pushing.
“I don’t know,” Leah whispered eventually. “Maybe that I’m… too much. Or not enough. At the same time.”
Jade didn’t flinch. She didn’t interrupt.
Leah continued, her voice breaking just slightly, “That I’ll mess it up like I always do. That you’ll get tired of trying to love someone who doesn’t know how to stay open for long.”
There it was.
The ache. The truth. The fear she'd buried under every soft smile.
And Jade… reached for her.
Not just physically. Emotionally. Honestly.
She took Leah’s hands, steady and warm. “I’m not looking for perfect. I’m looking for you. And I’m not scared of your pieces.”
Leah looked at her—really looked—and in that moment, it felt like something inside her dared to believe it might be true.
They didn’t kiss.
They didn’t cry.
They just sat there, holding hands on a floor littered with vulnerability and moonlight.
And somehow, that felt louder than love.
It felt like beginning.
The bravest thing you can do
is let someone see the s of you
you thought no one would ever stay for.
Not because of the answer—
but because someone finally cared enough to ask.")
It was past midnight.
The city outside Leah’s window buzzed with distant lights and muted sounds, but the apartment felt like a pocket of calm. The kind of quiet where everything echoes louder—thoughts, feelings, even the smallest movement.
Leah sat on the floor with her back against the couch, an old hoodie pulled over her knees, while Jade sat next to her, their shoulders barely brushing.
They’d spent the evening doing nothing in particular—sharing leftover takeout, trading lazy smiles, letting the kind of silence settle between them that felt less like absence and more like understanding.
But Jade had been quiet—truly quiet—for a while now.
Not the soft quiet Leah had grown used to, but something deeper. Thoughtful. Careful.
And then—
Jade turned toward her. “Leah.”
Leah hummed in response, not quite looking up.
But Jade didn’t let it go.
She shifted slightly, her knee brushing Leah’s. “Can I ask you something?”
Leah froze—just enough that Jade noticed.
“Yeah,” Leah said slowly, cautious. “What is it?”
Jade didn’t ask right away.
She looked at Leah the way someone looks at a fragile truth. Gently. Willing to wait. Willing to risk the answer.
Then softly—almost too softly—she asked:
“What are you afraid I’ll find if I love you all the way?”
Leah blinked.
The question settled between them like thunder after lightning—quiet, but impossible to ignore.
She didn’t answer right away.
Her eyes dropped to her hands. She pulled the sleeves over her knuckles. Her breathing changed.
And Jade waited.
Patient. Open. Not pushing.
“I don’t know,” Leah whispered eventually. “Maybe that I’m… too much. Or not enough. At the same time.”
Jade didn’t flinch. She didn’t interrupt.
Leah continued, her voice breaking just slightly, “That I’ll mess it up like I always do. That you’ll get tired of trying to love someone who doesn’t know how to stay open for long.”
There it was.
The ache. The truth. The fear she'd buried under every soft smile.
And Jade… reached for her.
Not just physically. Emotionally. Honestly.
She took Leah’s hands, steady and warm. “I’m not looking for perfect. I’m looking for you. And I’m not scared of your pieces.”
Leah looked at her—really looked—and in that moment, it felt like something inside her dared to believe it might be true.
They didn’t kiss.
They didn’t cry.
They just sat there, holding hands on a floor littered with vulnerability and moonlight.
And somehow, that felt louder than love.
It felt like beginning.
The bravest thing you can do
is let someone see the s of you
you thought no one would ever stay for.
End of Almost Love, Then Everything Chapter 37. Continue reading Chapter 38 or return to Almost Love, Then Everything book page.