It Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover (z-lib.org).epub

I’m worried about him. It started getting really cold this week and it’s supposed to
be even colder next week. If he doesn’t have electricity, that means he doesn’t have a
heater. I hope he at least has blankets. Do you know how awful I would feel if he
froze to death? Pretty freaking awful, Ellen.
I’ll find some blankets this week and give them to him.
—Lily
Dear Ellen,
It’s going to start snowing soon so I decided to harvest my garden today. I had
already pulled the radishes so I just wanted to put some mulch and compost down,
which wouldn’t have taken me long, but Atlas insisted on helping.
He asked me a lot of questions about gardening and I liked that he seemed
interested in my interests. I showed him how to lay the compost and mulch to cover
the ground so that the snow wouldn’t do too much damage. My garden is small
compared to most gardens. Maybe ten feet by twelve feet. But it’s all my dad will let
me use of the backyard.
Atlas covered the whole thing while I sat cross-legged in the grass and watched
him. I wasn’t being lazy, he just took over and wanted to do it so I let him. I can tell
he’s a hard worker. I wonder if maybe keeping himself busy takes his mind off of
things and that’s why he always wants to help me so much.
When he was finished, he walked over and dropped down next to me on the
grass.
“What made you want to grow things?” he asked.
I glanced over at him and he was sitting cross-legged, looking at me curiously. I
realized in that moment that he’s probably the best friend I’ve ever had, and we
barely know anything about each other. I have friends at school, but they’re never
allowed to come over to my house for obvious reasons. My mother is always worried
something might happen with my father and word might get out about his temper. I
also never really get to go to other people’s houses but I’m not sure why. Maybe my
father doesn’t want me staying over at friends’ houses because I might witness how a
good husband is supposed to treat his wife. He probably wants me to believe the way
he treats my mother is normal.
Atlas is the first friend I’ve ever had that’s ever been inside my house. He’s also
the first friend to know how much I like to garden. And now he’s the first friend to
ever ask me why I garden.
I reached down and pulled at a weed and started tearing it into little pieces while
I thought about his question.