I wake up, sweat clinging to my forehead as I gasp for air. It’s the fifth time I’ve had this dream. The dream that’s begging me to tell Maisie what I’ve done.

“It’s almost been a year,” I sigh. Wiping my wet forehead with the back of my hand. “A year since I met you.” I shut my eyes as if Maisie were sitting in front of me.

It’s been a year and I’ve been lying to Maisie. How can I do this? She’s Maisie . . . She’s been through so much all because of me. I shouldn’t treat her this way, she doesn’t deserve it.

I look over at the alarm clock that’s glowing on my bedside table. It’s six, the same time I’ve been springing awake all week.

“I need to tell Maisie,” I mumble, sitting up. I can’t go another day without her knowing who I am. A killer, a murderer . . . A heart breaker.

. . .

The whole day passes me as fast as the wind that’s blowing past me as I walk down the cold sidewalk. It’s close to sunset, which used to be my favortie time of day. But now, it’s the time of day where I have to tell Maisie the truth.

It’s the time of day when I’ll lose her forever.

Tears threaten to spill as I walk up her driveway. The cars not parked so her aunt must be out. It’s like the universe is telling me I should do this, her aunts gone, Tommy was really supportive telling me it was right even if I lost her, and I’m here. I haven’t turned around or decided to just tell her I love her.

I suck in the cold evening air as I raise one of my hands to knock on the wooden door.

“One sec!” A voice calls from inside the house. I hear footsteps and the click of Maisie turning the lock.

“Hey,” she smiles when our eyes meet. “Wanna come in?”

Do I _have_ to do this? She’s so beautiful, she’s so _happy_. I smile as Maisie steps out of the doorway, her hand still on the knob.

“Can we talk?” I ask, spinning around as she shuts the door.

Maisie’s eyes squint as she stares at me. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

She knows! Of course she knows it’s Maisie. She knows something’s wrong and she knows it’s going to ruin everything between us.

“Can we . . . Sit down maybe?” I hint, hoping Maisie get’s the idea that this is something that’s going to shake her world. And mine.

Maisie nods, leading the way to her living room. We pass the kitchen, the warm scent of vanilla filling my nose.

Maisie takes a seat on the grey couch, leaning against the dark blue pillows as I sit a few inches away from her.

“What did you want to tell me?” Maisie asks, playing with the pony tail holders on her wrist.

How do I say this? Should I just come out and say I caused the crash? Or should I slowly bring it up? Fast right?

“That night . . . The night of your crash.” I sigh, looking away from Maisie. “I was kinda there.”

I look back up at Maisie, she’s frozen her eyes shining with confusion.

_Keep your eyes on hers. If you’re going to tell her this then you at least need to be strong about it. _

__

__

“I was in the other car,” I say, keeping my eyes on Maisie’s. “I was the one that . . .killed your mom.”

Maisie doesn’t say anything. Her eyes aren’t even talking for her, she’s just sitting there.

“Masise?” I whisper. “Can you say something?”

Now everything changes. Maisie’s eyes explode with tears, her hand raises to her mouth. She shakes her head, shutting her eyes as she chokes out sobs.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I really am . . .”

I stand up, my heart beating fast in my chest as I walk down the hallway. Maisie’s sobs follow me as I reach the door.

How could I have done this to her? I open the door, stepping out onto the porch as I slap my hand over my eyes, falling to the ground.

To Be Continued . . .