(A/n- Hey everyone! I just wanted to say thank you all so, so much for all of the encouragement and support you've given me on the Unforgettable series, it is deeply appreciated and none of it ever goes unnoticed!)

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Chapter 17
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"Be careful to not scratch the floors, Giana." My mother scolds but I knew she didn't mean it in some crazy harsh way.

I usual tend to be clumsy and it either ends up with me, someone, or something getting damaged.

"I've got it under contro-" I let out a loud yelp in surprise as I trip over my own foot, falling onto the floor with my luggage plummeting on top of me.

"Yeah, I most certainly see that." She chuckles in amusement, lifting the heavy bag off of me, and help me off the floor.

I'm pretty much use to falling because of my own two feet, I'm honestly not even fazed at this point anymore.

"So," she grins with a nonchalant shrug, tapping her perfectly painted white nails against my luggage in the middle of our foyer.

"So?" I suggest in confusion.

"When are you going to tell me what happened between that Liam boy and you?" She suggest with a knowing smile, making my mouth fall so fast to the ground, how does she know everything?!

I stutter. "W-What?"

After Liam, posted the video of telling everyone the truth, it was officially time to part. The captain came through the loud intercom and announced that our level had to disembark.

Emma seemed to be happy which was a good thing, I'm glad I didn't ruin her and Logan's vacation. Everyone actually seemed pretty happy, surprisingly even Matt, who was holding Rebecca's hand on the way out.

Liam offered to take me to a coffee shop and talk about everything but I think all I really need is some space right now.

I'm so utterly confused.

Two weeks ago, I was engaged and everything was decided from there on out. I had the perfect guy and the perfect situation— just without all the feelings in between, I mean of course I love Matt, but just not like that.

I would be lying to myself if I deny my feelings for, Liam. But being with him also comes with unnecessary worry and drama— I'm not ready to come to the terms that he can walk in and out of my life whenever he feels like it.

He can't choose when to love me and when not too.

Loving someone should be unconditional, I shouldn't have to worry if he won't be there for me tomorrow.

But every time I try to push him away and get him out of my brain, there's always something there gnawing at me like I'm missing something— more like someone.

It has made me realize that I've fallen in love countless of times, yet all with the same person.

And that's when every song on the radio has to remind me of him, and our long, midnight drives that we use to take after visiting our favorite spot at the top of the hill, the music filling the silence when there was nothing left to say.

When all the red roses I pass, when having to walk pass the flower shop, that's right by my favorite coffee shop just has to constantly remind me of the time that he gave me a bouquet on my nineteenth birthday.

There's always something there to remind me of him— maybe that's why this city is bad for me.

I wish I could explain how he makes me feel, but none of it would do it justice. When it comes to Liam and I, there's not one emotion that defines us, because there's absolutely a thousand.

He makes me feel them all, even the bad ones at times, but I rather feel everything than nothing at all.

Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I forced my parents to not go through with the tutoring. Would my life be easier or just boring?

How can one person change the course of everything? How you can want that one person with every single mistake they've made, all their stupid and sarcastic jokes, and even their flaws that make them so unforgettable.

I fell in love with all the little things that he didn't even know he was doing.

He intrigues me with everything he does, from the way that he says my name like it's belongs on his lips, to the way that he stares at me as if he could see right through any facade or walls that I've built.

I hate that I love him but I hate him even more for loving me back.

He hurts me, he doesn't mean to, but that doesn't mean that it still doesn't hurt.

My hands can't help but fidget with the luggage tag in front of me to distract me from her eager eyes. "I'm not exactly sure what you're tal—"

"I know he was with you guys on this little vacation, Emma and Logan planned." She acknowledged, grabbing my bag and helping me carry it up to my bedroom, everyone knows that my weakling arms would be the reason for me tumbling down the staircase if she didn't.

She plops down on my bed, patting the seat next to her, waiting for me to gossip with her but as I replay her words in my head I can't help but wonder what she means.

I confess. "I'm glad you knew but I didn't."

My feet carry me to the edge of my bed before I fall down onto it headfirst, groaning tiredly as my face hits my pillow.

"And what do you mean Emma and Logan planned this?" I question curiously, wondering if she meant the vacation in general or my future embarrassment in advance.

And as if the spider got tangled in its own web she nervously changes the subject.

"Mom! How could you not warn me in advance if you knew he was going to be there?" I shout in disbelief, twisting my head to get a better look at her.

She waves me off as if I'm being the ridiculous one before speaking up again. "You would've never agreed to go, and you know that's the truth."

I mean she isn't wrong.

I sigh. "Why does it even matter?"

She stays silent but I know her brain is swarming with thoughts, and so is mine.

Emma and Logan, seriously used their engagement as an excuse to get Liam and I, in the same room? Why would they do that? I haven't even brought the idea of Liam up before in years.

My mom gets up from her spot, walking over towards my closet and pulling it open, causing me to only grow more and more confused as to what is so important in my closet.

She taps her white sneaker against one of the loose floorboard hidden towards the back and I feel my heart squeeze in my chest— how did she— why would she— oh my gosh.

She bends down silently, cracking open the one paneled floor that I tend to move at times, taking out the small cardboard box I hid in there years ago.

"Mom," I whine quietly, pathetically even. "Why would you look through my stuff?"

She quirks an eyebrow up and puts her hand on her hip sassily, handing me the box with her other. "Do your own laundry and I won't have to wonder why my floor is constantly creaking when I put your clothes away." She says with a sarcastic tight-lipped grin.

"I already know what's in here and it doesn't change anything." I state honestly and she pats my back lightly.

"You might've missed something."

Is that her way of telling me that she added something into my box that I didn't even want her to see in the first place?

I lift the familiar lid of the box off, my eyes roaming across random Polaroid pictures of Liam and I, his sweatshirt he let me keep, and even his letter explaining everything. I don't know what's differ— another letter?

"He came by on graduation day but you know you father," she waves off, not caring to explain his stuck in ways because I know them so well. "He wanted to see you, he tried, he really did and you know I wouldn't say that to you  unless he truly put in the effort."

My throat feels tight and scratchy at his scribbled on letters, my name spelled in his familiar font. "Why wouldn't you haven given this to me sooner?" I croak out.

"Because you're just as stubborn as your father." She laughs with a shake of her head. "And I know you wouldn't have opened it, so much time has passed and when he originally handed it to me, you were so hurt." She expresses and for some reason I'm not mad— not at all actually.

My mom always has my best interest at heart, even if I can't see that in the moment, and I knew she was doing what she thought was right for me. . . Besides, it took me so long to read the first one, she wouldn't be wrong about the second.

"I think it's better that you read it now that you've seen him again." She explains with a sincere smile and I nod agreeingly.

My fingers trace the outline of the envelope as my left hand places the delicate pastel pink box down on my floor, I slouch down against the wall and take in a deep breath. I can't help but grip on the letter, scared it will disappear in my own hands if I let go. I place my index finger underneath the thin piece of paper, getting ready to open up the past.

(A/n- Chapter seventeen is officially out! I have amazing news that I would love to share with all of you! I'm creating a spin-off after I finish writing this book and it's on two characters that I think you will absolutely love! I can't wait to share more info about it soon. Thank you all so much for reading please don't forget to comment, share, and click that little star button at the bottom of the screen. Until next time!)