Final chapter (besides epilogue) and it's looooong so get ready...

I shove my toothbrush in the large duffel bag as I prepare to leave the hospital. I walk out of the small bathroom and look around the room, which has been my home for the past few weeks. Oh, I will not miss this place. Not one bit. The only concern I have for once I leave this room is:

What am I supposed to do now?

I sit down on the bed, sighing. It's over. All of it. Everything from that happened before the coma, during the coma, and afterwards is now done. The things that have been driving me insane for months, the mysteries and relationships that made up my life, are all now over. What are you supposed to do when your whole life just seems to keep moving, but you can't move?

I massage my temples, groaning as a headache spikes. Gosh I've had so many headaches. I'm just ready to go home, maybe I'll know what to do there. Read a book? Like I used to? But how am I supposed to just sit there and read after everything? To do anything after everything happened? It all feels too little, too normal. Too much like nothing. I just don't-

A knock interrupts my spiral of thoughts. My eyes look to the open door, where Dr. Jolkens stands wearing a perplexed expression. I raise my eyebrows. "Is there something wrong?"

I swear if he says that I have to stay here for another week I might just flip over this bed and jump out the window. Rachel already has most of the stuff in the car! He can't possibly make us unpack all of it.

But he doesn't say that, instead he says something much worse. "No Peyton, nothing is wrong. I'm sorry to barge in right before you leave, but do you think you're feeling up for a visitor?"

I blink. He said those exact words to me when I first was in the hospital and people were coming in one after another, telling me how glad they were to see me again. And the visitor he had brought in was Kevin. The first time I met him. Or truly met him, at least. He sat in silence with me, the best thing anyone had done for me in a while. But now, this time I...It's not going to be Kevin walking through that door.

I clear my throat, shoving the dark thought down. "Not—not really, I really just want to get out of here."

He turns his head away and talks to someone I can't see, probably the visitor. When he looks back at me he sighs. "Look, Peyton, Officer Peters took a lot of precaution getting him here for you-"

"Wait what?" I cut in, "Officer? Him? Who's here to see me?"

Dr Jolkens motions someone forward. And in steps the last person I ever expected, the last person I ever wanted. Fear, anger, disgust, and relief flood through me all at once and I don't even bother sorting through the tangle of emotions as I stare at my visitor with wide eyes.

Steve Thompson; alive, well, accompanied by a cop, but definitely not in an orange jumpsuit.

What the heck is going on here?

It takes me a minute but I eventually remember to speak, to breathe, to do something that's not staring at him in shock. I clear my throat.

"Let him in. But I want the cop outside the door at all times."

***

The door is left slightly open as I sit on the hospital bed, facing Steve, who sits in a chair on the opposite side of the room. It usually sits beside the bed, but I moved it. I want as much distance between us as possible.

Neither of us speak at first. There is too much to say, yet too little at the same time. I tap my fingers on my leg, the tangle of emotions growing bigger and bigger with the questions that he has yet to have answered. A few more seconds pass. Then a few more. I stop tapping my fingers; I'm tired of waiting.

"Why?" The singular word is strong and steady despite my pounding heart and fidgety hands. It demands an answer.

He blinks, uncertainty written on his face. "Why what?"

Oh as he doesn't already know! My face heats up as anger begins to burn in me, hot and fiery. "Why do you lie All. The. Fucking. Time! Why did you tell me he was at the base when he wasn't? Why did you pretend to help me? All your 'help' did was kill people. Your inability to be honest killed people! Why!"

I don't even notice the furious tears streaking my face until I ask the one question that's been bothering me since the day that everything Steve and I ever had broke with no hope of repair. "What happened to you?"

The question is small, whispered even, but it has it's full effect. Steve's face is drained of all it's color. His eyes widen and then look to the floor. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again, shaking his head.

"I don't know," he admits quietly. "I don't know."

He sounds so lost, so pitiful that for a moment I almost begin to feel sorry for him.

But only for a moment.

"Well you better figure it out real quick because I am hurt by you," I tell him sharply. "I am hurt and angry and confused, and I have every right to be so. I deserve an explanation, just something."

He buries his face in his hands. "I didn't know, okay?"

"Didn't know what?"

"I-I didn't know all this would happen! I didn't know he wasn't at the base, Peyton! I swear! They knew I would snap, they knew that I would try to help you, so they gave me false information to lead right to them! I wouldn't do that to you, Peyton, not willingly."

I scoff. "What haven't you already done? You've already betrayed me, you've already lied to me, you've already taken people I love away from me, so how is that any different?"

He looks at a loss for words. And it makes me angry. Maybe I'm being too hard, but I don't care. How can I when Allie is dead? How can I when Kevin is lying unconscious in a hospital bed, so marred that they won't let me see him? How could I possibly care when he has ripped a whole inside of me so deep that I'm not even familiar with my surroundings?

I take a deep breath; maybe if I'm calmer he'll find it easier to answer. "Steve, I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead or in jail, but it appears you are neither. Instead you're right here in front of me, and at any moment I could choose to leave, but right now I'm choosing to be here. But if you don't start talking to me soon then that choice is going to change."

Silence, and then, "I...I don't even know how it got to be this...big." He eventually says.

He continues, "This was all for Sadie, all to make sure they didn't touch her but..." He looks up at me. "You were right, Peyton, I could've called the police, but I didn't. I didn't. Because I...listened to them, and I...I began to resent you.

"I was so...tired of feeling broken, of feeling like I could've prevented you from falling into that coma. The guilt was too much for me to handle at sixteen. When they first came to me, I tried to fight them. Stupid, I know, but they took you away, and I wanted them to pay for it.

"But when they began to talk to me, whisper pretty lies and ugly truths in my ears, I listened. And the things they said about you...It was easier to hate than to grieve."

The words bite at me, but I bite back.

"When you kissed me when I first woke up, when you came to my house...you weren't pretending, I know you weren't. You didn't hate me then. So why did you continue to work with them after I woke up?" I ask carefully.

He sighs. "I-I felt trapped, like I was too far deep to get out of it. And when they found out you had woken up, they found a new way to use me, a new way to tether me to them. I tried to get out, but I was afraid, so I just...stopped and gave in."

I nod slowly, clenching my jaw. "I know what you mean about feeling too far deep, we both know that I've been there myself."

He nods, looking surprised. Maybe it's because I'm not yelling at him, not questioning everything he's saying.

"So...I was right to trust you that night onstage." It's more of a statement than a question, but he nods anyway.

"I wanted to help you. What I did to Kevin...I haven't forgotten it, and I won't, probably ever. I'll never be able to forget these things I've done to so many people, you most of all, but I'm okay with that, because it'll help me not to make those decisions again." He says. Genuinely, I note.

I pause. Anger still tugs at me. Pain still digs into my heart like a knife. Betrayal is still sharp inside of me, begging to be wielded like a weapon aiming to kill. But I will not wield it, I will not fight him any longer. Because I'm tired, just as he was those years ago.

I'm tired of crying myself to sleep, wondering why he did these awful things. I'm tired of screaming in my pillow and cursing at his foolishness. I'm tired of being burnt up with anger, and sodden with tears. But most of all, and it pains me that it's the truth, I'm tired of Steve Thompson being in my life.

So I say, "I want to be able to forgive you, Steve. And I think one day I'll be able to, and that'll be a good day. But right now, it's too soon for that hole to be mended so quickly. There's not one part of me that's ready for forgiveness, and I'm not sorry for that, but I'm sure you can understand."

The pain in his eyes is evident, but he still nods all the same. "Of course," he seems to accept. Though he is silent, I can see the question on his lips, the need for an answer.

"Ask it," I encourage quietly.

He hesitates, seeming to debate just how great the need is, but he eventually gives in. "Did you...Did you ever love me? You said it so many times, but did you ever mean it? Truly?"

Did I...love him?

Did I?

What Steve and I had was...young. It was an adventure that I was thrilled to explore, a fun game that I enjoyed playing. What people saw was perfect, a dream come to life. And that's what I saw too, because that's what Steve said we were, what everyone else thought, so why wouldn't it be true?

But when I kissed him and then went back in for more, it wasn't out of love. It was out of the hope that maybe if I did it again, I would feel the spark that everyone else seemed to see, the one that they all expected.

When I said that I needed Steve, it wasn't out of love. It was because I didn't know who Peyton Comber was without Steve Thompson in her life. The perfect relationship that gave me a plastic identity to cling onto. Out of a longing to feel a spark that I just could never get to ignite.

When I told him that I loved him, it wasn't because I did. It was because I thought I was supposed to. It was because I wanted to. I really, really wanted to, but it was never there, and now I know why.

Love is not perfection. Love is not lips against lips, or the touching of flesh. It is not plastic or words or a mere thrilling game. No, it is none of these things.

Love is a delicate melody on a piano that gets stronger as the musician gets better. Love is trust, the connection that is greater than the heart, but the tying of two souls.  It is growing together, helping shine light on the things the other can't see. It is everything inside of you, too great to ever be described in a simple three words. Love is more than just a feeling, love is a person.

And for me, love is Kevin. Always.

With this realization my eyes tear up. Steve is awaiting my answer expectantly, hopefully. Neither of us deserve the other, and that is why we must say goodbye.

I take a shaking breath, the tears still shining in my eyes. "I guess we were both liars, because I didn't mean it. Not once, and not in the way you wanted me to. And for that, I'm truly sorry for."

The pain that floods his face is crushing, devastating, and it takes everything in me not to look away. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Okay. Where does that leave us?"

I hop off the hospital bed and make my way over to him. I place my hand gently on his cheek, staring into those shining, pale green eyes. "You are not my enemy, but you are also not my friend. I have known you, and you have known me, but that is where things end," I study his face. The face that I've stared at so many times, but never will again.

"I will never truly hate you, but I will never love you, either. Not even a little bit. We have said what we needed to say, now all that's left is goodbye."

I expect him to argue. To yell or scream at me, to sob and beg me for forgiveness, but nothing comes. All there is is a swift nod of the head. Then he, carefully, removes my hand from his face, kisses it once, and then is striding out the door.

When he is gone, I wipe the few tears of my face, and go home.

***

The mayor wants me to speak.

He wants me to address the town and tell them everything's all right, that I'm safe and well and there's no more danger to worry about.

I refused the first time he asked me to, because how could I say that everything's fine when nothing is? But then the local news came on, and again they were questioning Kevin. Questioning his motives and involvement with the whole mess.

Then I snapped and I told the mayor that I would address the town.

But not about their safety.

So, here I am, walking on the stage they've set up in the middle of a park. Hundreds of people are spread out around me, looking eagerly on what I have to say. I spot Jacklyn and my mother in the front row. Rachel looks uncertain, because she knows that I don't want to do this. Jacklyn, on the other hand, looks proud, because I've told her what I'm going to tell this town. And she said she couldn't wait for it.

When I reach the middle of the stage, I stand behind the podium they've set up and tap on the microphone attached to it. I take a deep breath; let's do this.

"Good morning," I begin, my voice shaking slightly. "I'm glad to see that so many of you came to hear me speak, and I think you'll be left reassured with what I'm about to tell you."

Ha, no they won't.

Another deep breath. "Well, that is what I wish I could tell you, but the truth is you're not going to be leaving this place calm and at peace."

Some murmurs carry throughout the large crowd but I still continue. "And that's what I'm here to tell you today, the truth. I won't lie just to make you feel better, and I won't stay silent on some things that have gone on for far too long.

"As you all know, I fell into a coma three years ago after being hit by a speeding truck. The occupants of that vehicle were Brayden and Kevin Helms. Brayden was arrested and is still in jail for attempted murder. But Kevin wasn't because he was just someone who happened to be in the car at that time. Yet, while knowing this, you all despised him for something he could not help."

I swallow as anger begins to rise in me, fresh and ready to come out after so many months of being shoved down. "Not just him, but his mother, too. You hated a whole family because of an action done by an entirely different person. Do you know how horrible that is? You all should be disgusted at yourselves!"

The murmurs have risen to gasps and chattering but I don't care. I'm not close to being done yet. "And you all have the audacity to accuse him of trying to kill me while he's lying unconscious in the hospital! Did you even wonder for a second if he's okay? Do you even care? What if it was me? I bet you would all care then. You know, I wouldn't have wanted you to hate him, not because of me. I'm not worth making someone's life a living hell!

"How dare you think that he was the cause of all this! Damn you for ever thinking that!" Angry tears flood my eyes. The crowd has gone from shocked to appalled, though there is one person who doesn't. Jacklyn nods her head, tears streaming down her proud face.

I continue angrily. "He saved my life! All of you were scared that he was going to take it but I always knew he would try to protect me with his last breath. Why? Because he is kind! He's selfless and loyal!" I shake my head. "But none of you would know that, would you? Because you never bothered talking to him. Because you just assumed that he wanted to hurt me because he was in the same car as the person who actually did!

"Why didn't you ask him? And if you did, why didn't you believe him? You all hated him, but he never hated you. After all that you've done to him because of me, he never hated me. No, he cared for me. He was with me when it felt like no one else was. He saw me for who was, who I am now and not who I used to be. He didn't just love Peyton, and he also loved-"

I cut myself off. Is this...time? The secret that weighs heavy in my heart, the question that started this whole thing, the identity that sparked a change in the tide...I think it all makes sense now, in a way.

The truth, you've here to tell the truth.

I take a great, shuddering breath. "He loved Peyton Comber and...Olivia Wright."

Confused glances are thrown around the crowd and I can hear the questions being asked from all the way on the stage. But they shouldn't worry, they'll get their answers.

"When I was in the coma, and it may have been three years for all of you, but for me it was an entire lifetime. I lived a whole other life. And it wasn't a mere dream, I mean I lived there. My name was Olivia Wright. I had a family whom I loved, a marriage that lasted for over fifty years, and about five dogs. All which were real, all which are some of my dearest memories.

"And, I know, this probably all sounds crazy, which is part of the reason I never spoke any of this until now. Another reason was that I was confused. Because for what reason did I live as Olivia Wright for ninety-eight years only to wake back up as Peyton Comber, an eighteen year old girl? But I think I know now."

The crowd is quiet with something that feels like suspense. Rachel looks up at me, a curious expression on her tear-stained face. Jacklyn beams at me, and I smile back at her before I continue.

"Being Olivia Wright changed me for the better. Before I was in the coma, I wasn't always kind. I wasn't always loving and warm-hearted like you all thought I was. I did some bad things, and never once thought twice about it. I was stupid and reckless, and a part of me still is, but I've also learned some things from Olivia that makes me who I am now.

"Olivia taught me how to be quiet, how to enjoy the small moments in life that you might never experience again. She taught me how to be patient and how to sit down and enjoy a book. She taught me to appreciate every second with family, and to actually take time to think before doing something.

"She taught me so many things, some that I've yet to realize. But I hope that I will. And I hope that you will learn to accept me as I am now, and not to get hung up on who I used to be. Because this is who I am now, this is who I've grown to be, and I will not hide it any longer. Thank you."

Then I walk off the stage. The mayor rushes past me, looking a bit flustered and panicked at my words. But I don't care. Because I feel lighter than I did before, I feel free. Free to show my true identity to the world. The one that was always meant to be mine.

And Kevin...I will still hope for him. I will still hope that he will wake up and remember. I will still hope for his happiness and well being. I will still hope for him. Because he is love to me, and it would be nice to know if I was it to him as well.

Jacklyn intertwines her fingers with mine, walking step by step with me as we make our way through the crowd of people. I can hear the grin in her voice as she whispers in my ear, "Not bad Princess, not bad at all."

A smile makes its way on my face, growing bigger with each step. Not bad at all indeed.

***

Three months later:

"He's really awake?" I ask for the hundredth time as I'm led to his room.

Dr Jolkens chuckles. "For the last time Peyton, yes!"

We walk down the hallway that I know is his, nearing the room where he is lying wide awake, alive. Apprehension and giddiness makes me jittery and on edge as we stop outside of his room. To see him again, to talk to him again...A hope come true.

But I grab Dr Jolkens' arm before he can enter the room. "Wait," I say softly, heart suddenly pounding, "does he remember? Anything?"

He sighs, his expression turning solemn. "Some things he remembers, others he doesn't. It's very scattered to him right now. Some of his memories are there but others are not. Like he asked for his brother yesterday, and no one had the heart to tell him where he was. It would lead to too many questions."

My heart twists. If he doesn't...If I'm nothing more than a...Then nothing. I will be strong for him. I know what it's like to be confused and lost. Kevin gave me peace, surety; I will provide the same for him.

When Dr Jolkens gives his signal, I walk into the room. And there he is. He sits up, propped up against pillows. His hair is messy and tousled, as always. His brown eyes are wide and still have so much to say, just as they always have. I just stare at him, taking him in.

But I already know before he speaks the words, because his eyes have never looked at me so blankly.

"Do I...know you?"

My breath hitches and for a moment I forget to breathe at all. A part of my heart, no my soul, shatters. Everything around closes in and I begin to-

No. No, I will be strong. I will be brave. Because I love him, and he does not need a weeping girl huddled on his floor.

So I smile despite the pain flooding my chest. I sit down in the chair beside his bed and stare into those gorgeous, familiar, brown eyes of his.

"Not yet, but you will. But we don't have to worry about that today. Today, we can just sit in silence," My smile grows thoughtful. "It's nice, isn't it?"

He mirrors my smile uncertainly, and nods.

So we sit in silence, and that is enough.

Ahh last official chapter! Don't worry, that's not the final ending, there's still the epilogue, which should come out very soon!! Then the bonus chapter with all the scrapped storylines and everything. I love you guys and thank you for going on this journey with me, even though it took a while! -Vanna