Chapter 3: Almost the Main Girl

After that, just like the comments said, I stuck by Duane through the lowest point of his life. While Lily was gone those three years, I took my chance.

I was the one who brought him coffee in the mornings, the one who listened to his nightmares, the one who never left. I told myself it was enough.

I can’t remember which night it was. Duane grabbed my hand as I passed him a glass of water, his fingertips cool. “Maddie, how long have you liked me?”

His question caught me off guard. I nearly dropped the glass, my cheeks flushing bright red. The way he looked at me—soft, curious, almost amused—made my heart race.

He sounded casual, but there was a smile in his eyes I couldn’t meet.

He always knew how to get under my skin. I looked away, pretending to be busy, but he didn’t let go of my hand.

I heard my own heart start pounding, my face burning up, but I still tried to play it cool. “Not that long.”

My voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it. I could see the corners of his mouth twitching, fighting a smile.

He drawled, “Oh?”

His tone was teasing, like he already knew the answer. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but smile back.

My heart skipped a beat.

It felt like we were kids again, sharing secrets under the bleachers at a Friday night football game.

“Besides me, have you ever liked anyone else?”

I shook my head, mumbling, “No.”

I fiddled with the hem of my sweatshirt, wishing I could disappear. He squeezed my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my skin.

“Louder, I can’t hear you.”

He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. My heart threatened to burst right out of my chest.

I looked up at him. “There’s no one else.”

I met his gaze, letting him see the truth. For once, I didn’t hold back.

He smiled.

It was the kind of smile that made all the pain worth it. Soft, genuine, full of something I couldn’t quite name.

That night, his smile—the way his eyes curved—was especially beautiful.

I wanted to freeze that moment, tuck it away for the days when everything felt hopeless. It was the first time I truly believed he could love me back.

I stammered, “…You—you knew all along.”

My voice shook, but I didn’t care. He just laughed, pulling me closer.

“Yeah.” He pulled me into his arms a little tighter. “You didn’t hide it well at all.”

His embrace was warm, grounding. I let myself melt into him, just for a moment.

Maybe the joy of finally having my love returned made me ignore the emptiness I sometimes glimpsed in his eyes.

I told myself it didn’t matter, that I could fill the spaces Lily had left behind. But some ghosts never leave.

Duane treated me well.

He was thoughtful—always remembering my favorite coffee order, sending me silly memes, holding my hand in public. It was everything I’d ever wanted, and yet…

Compared to the way he used to look after me like an older brother, there was a new tenderness and closeness.

He’d tuck my hair behind my ear, kiss my forehead, call me sweetheart in that low, gentle voice. Sometimes, it felt too good to be true.

Sometimes when he held my hand or wrapped his arm around me, I’d suddenly get this surreal feeling—“We’re really a couple now.”

I’d catch our reflection in a store window and smile, hardly believing it was real. I’d waited so long for this, I almost didn’t trust it.

And then I’d get all giddy and fluttery inside.

Like a teenager with her first crush, I’d find myself daydreaming about our future—weddings, road trips, lazy Sunday mornings. It all felt possible, for once.

We did all the things couples do—walks, movies, trips, celebrating every holiday. Nearly all our free time was spent together.

We carved pumpkins at Halloween, went ice skating at Rockefeller Center in December, took spontaneous road trips to the coast. Every moment felt like a new memory being written.

But in three years together, the most intimate thing we’d done was kiss.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want more—I did. But every time things started to heat up, he’d pull away, leaving me breathless and confused.

Every time his kisses left me dizzy and melting in his arms, he’d always pull away, holding himself back.

I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me, but it did. I’d lie awake at night, wondering what I was doing wrong.

I could feel his reaction, too.

His body never lied. But his mind always seemed to win out, keeping us at arm’s length.

Even our friends joked he must be a monk or something.

At brunch, they’d tease him about it, nudging each other and winking at me. I’d laugh it off, but inside, I was dying to know what he was really thinking.

Whenever that happened, he’d just pat my head, his voice gentle and a little helpless. “Maddie’s too good. I can’t bear to touch you.”

He said it like it was a compliment, but it felt like a rejection. I’d smile and nod, pretending it didn’t hurt.

I pressed my lips together, confused and a little hurt.

Was I too good, or just not enough? The question haunted me, growing louder with every passing day.

Was that really the reason?

I replayed his words over and over, searching for hidden meaning. I wanted to believe him, but doubt crept in anyway.

I even bought a cute lingerie set online, ready to surprise him... Yeah, I know—cringe. But our families started talking about an engagement for May.

I hid the costume in the back of my closet, too embarrassed to ever bring it out. Instead, I let myself get swept up in the excitement of planning a future together—picking out rings, talking about houses, dreaming about babies.

Duane agreed.

He smiled when our parents brought it up, even helped me pick a date. I thought it meant something, that he was finally ready to let go of the past.