Ignite Me (Shatter Me, #3)

by Tahereh Mafi

“Because they’re dead, love. They’re all dead.”

Adam is gone. My first love. My first friend. My only friend when I had none and now he’s gone and I don’t know how I feel. Strange, mostly. Delirious, too. I feel empty and broken and cheated and guilty and angry and desperately, desperately sad.

“You deserve so much more than charity,” he says, his chest heaving. “You deserve to live. You deserve to be alive.” He’s staring at me, unblinking. “Come back to life, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“And this life”—I point to the door—“the life on the other side of that wall? That’s not what I want.” My words only seem to upset him more. “Then you’d rather be dead?” he asks, angry again. “Is that what you’re saying? You’d rather be dead than try to build a life with me here?” “I would rather be dead,” I say to him, inching away from his outstretched hand, “than go back to being silent and suffocated.”

“What do you want?” Lily asks, fists clenched, standing in a far corner of the room. “Nothing from you,” Warner says to her. “I’m here to pick up Juliette. I have no wish to disturb your . . . slumber party,” he says, looking around at the pillows and blankets piled on the living room floor. Adam goes rigid with alarm. “What are you talking about? She’s not going anywhere with you.” Warner scratches the back of his head. “Do you never get exhausted being so wholly unbearable? You have as much charisma as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.”

“What’s happened to you?” He turns on me. “I don’t even know who you are anymore. I thought you were dead—I thought he’d killed you,” he says, pointing at Warner. “And now you’re standing here, teaming up with the guy who tried to ruin your life? Talking about fighting back because you have nothing left to live for? What about me?” he demands. “What about our relationship? When did that stop being enough for you?”

“All of this,” he says, meeting my eyes, his voice quieting to a raw, aching whisper, “was for you. I left everything I knew because I thought we were in this together. I thought it was going to be me and you.” His eyes are so dark, so deep, so hurt. Looking at him makes me want to curl up and die. “What are you doing?” he says, desperate now. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t want to live in fear anymore,” I say, hoping I sound stronger than I feel. “I have to fight back,” I tell him. “I thought we wanted the same things.” “No—I wanted you,” he says, struggling to keep his voice steady. “That’s all I wanted. From the very beginning, Juliette. You were it. You were all I wanted.”

“If you want to see him so badly,” Adam says to me, “you can get the hell out of my house. But he’s not coming back here. Not ever.”

“Where is she supposed to go?” Kenji says to him. “You want her to stand on the side of the street? So someone can report her and get her killed? Are you out of your mind?” “I don’t give a shit anymore,” Adam says. “She can go do whatever the hell she wants.” He turns to me again. “You want to be with him?” He points to the door. “Go. Drop dead.”

“She looks at that psycho like she’s in love with him,” Adam barks back. “You think I don’t know what that look is? You think I wouldn’t be able to tell? She used to look at me like that. I know her—I know her so well—”

“Maybe you don’t.” “Stop defending her!” “You don’t even know what you’re saying,” Kenji tells him. “You’re acting crazy—” “I was happier,” Adam says, “when I thought she was dead.” “You don’t mean that. Don’t say things like that, man. Once you say that kind of shit you can’t take it back—” “Oh, I mean it,” Adam says. “I really, really mean it.” He finally looks at me. Fists clenched. “Thinking you were dead,” he says to me, “was so much better. It hurt so much less than this.”

Im sobbing so hard rn

“You, of all people,” Adam says to me. He looks so disgusted. “I trusted you—told you things I never should’ve told you—and now you’re going out of your way to throw it all back in my face. I can’t believe you’d do this to me. That you’d fall for him. What the hell is wrong with you?” he demands, his voice rising in pitch. “How sick in the head do you have to be?”

“You and me,” Adam is saying to me now, his voice so rough, so angry, “we’re done. We’re finished,” he snaps. “I never want to see you again. Not anywhere in this world, and definitely not in my own goddamn house.” He stares at me, chest heaving. “So get the hell out. Get out before I get back.”

“Don’t go,” James says. He looks so sad. So serious. “I’m sorry Adam was mean to you. But I don’t want you to die,” he says. “And I don’t wish you were dead. I swear I don’t.”

“He was upset,” I whisper, “because I didn’t agree that you were crazy. And he was accusing me”—I hesitate—“of being in love with you.” Warner exhales sharply. Touches a hand to the doorframe. My heart is pounding so hard. Warner’s eyes are glued to the wall. “And you told him he was an idiot.” Breathe. “No.”

“Why don’t you understand?” He looks up at me and his eyes are so full of pain and devastation it actually takes my breath away. My hands are shaking. “Understand what—?” “I love you.” He breaks. His voice. His back. His knees. His face. He breaks. He has to hold on to the side of his desk. He can’t meet my eyes. “I love you,” he says, his words harsh and soft all at once. “I love you and it isn’t enough. I thought it would be enough and I was wrong. I thought I could fight for you and I was wrong. Because I can’t. I can’t even face you anymore—”

“I’d be really upset if someone hated me.” “You are young.” “I’m almost twelve,” James says to him. “I was told you were ten.” “I said almost twelve.” James rolls his eyes.

This has me laughing so hard

“I love you,” I whisper. “I love you exactly as you are.” Warner is looking at me like he might be going deaf and blind at the same time. “No,” he gasps. One broken, broken word. Barely even a sound. He’s shaking his head and he’s looking away from me and his hand is caught in his hair, his body turned toward the table and he says “No. No, no—” “Aaron—” “No,” he says, backing away. “No, you don’t know what you’re saying—” “I love you,” I tell him again. “I love you and I want you and I wanted you then,” I say to him, “I wanted you so much and I still want you, I want you right now—”

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