Page 20 of Giving Chase

I feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes and blink them back. This isn't how I expected this dinner to go, but I realize that this is what I needed – not closure, exactly, but a start. A chance to see the man Chase has become, to begin to reconcile him with the man I knew.

"Where do we go from here?" I ask, the question encompassing so much more than just the upcoming ceremony.

Chase looks at me for a long moment, his gaze intense. "I don't know," he admits. "But I'd like to find out. If you're willing."

I take a deep breath, weighing his words. There's still so much unsaid between us, so much to work through. And despite the feelings I know I still have for him, I can't ignore the years of pain and the breach of trust.

"I think," I say slowly, "that we need to take this one step at a time. We have a couple of months of working together ahead of us with this Hall of Fame induction. Let's see how that goes first."

Chase nods, a mix of hope and understanding in his eyes. "That sounds fair. I know I have a lot to prove, Eliza. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

"It's not about proving anything, Chase," I say, surprising myself with my candor. "It's about rebuilding trust. And that takes time."

"Time," he repeats softly. "Yeah, I can do that."

As we call for the check, I feel a strange mix of emotions. There's still hurt, still anger at what happened between us. But there's also a glimmer of something else. Not forgiveness, not yet. But maybe... possibility.

We step out into the cool night air, and for a moment, we just stand there, neither quite ready to say goodbye.

"Thank you," Chase says finally. "For giving me a chance to explain. For... for everything, really."

I nod, offering a small smile. "Thank you for being honest. It's a start."

The valet approaches with my car keys, and I feel a sudden reluctance to leave. Chase seems to sense it, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"So, I guess this is goodnight," he says, his voice soft.

"I guess it is," I reply, equally quiet.

We stand there for another moment, the air between us charged with lingering emotions. Finally, I take a deep breath and turn to the valet.

"Thank you," I say, accepting my keys.

As I settle into my car, I watch Chase in the rearview mirror as he waits for his own vehicle. He looks lost in thought, his brow furrowed in that way I remember so well.

I start the engine, but before I pull away, I allow myself one last look at him. Our eyes meet briefly, and he offers a small, tentative wave. I return it, feeling a mix of emotions I can't quite name.

As I drive away, I realize that this dinner hasn't given me the closure I thought I wanted. Instead, it's opened a door I thought was long closed. And while I'm not ready to step through it just yet, I find myself, for the first time in five years, not wanting to slam it shut either.

The next couple of months are going to be interesting, to say the least. But as I navigate the familiar streets of Los Angeles, I realize I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next. And that, in itself, feels like progress.

September 15, 2006

The diamond on my left hand catches the morning sunlight as I reach for my latte, sending little prisms dancing across the coffee shop wall. I still can't quite believe it's there – three weeks engaged, and it still feels surreal.

I glance at my watch. Twenty minutes until the first Incendiary Ink band meeting since their break began six months ago. Plenty of time to savor my coffee and gather my thoughts. It's been a whirlwind half-year – the band's break, throwing myself into other projects at Blackmore, and then meeting Clive.

Clive. My fiancé. Successful music promoter, charming, stable. Everything I should want. Everything I do want. Right? The speed of our relationship sometimes makes my head spin, but isn't that what love is supposed to do?

The bell over the door chimes, and I look up out of habit. My heart stops.

Chase.

He's let his hair grow out again, and there's a scruffy beard shadowing his jaw. But those green eyes are the same, lighting up with recognition as they land on me. For a moment, I forget how to breathe.

"Well, well, well," he drawls, a slow smile spreading across his face as he approaches my table. "If it isn't the elusive Eliza Kerr. I was starting to think you were just a figment of my imagination."

I stand, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. It's been six months since we've seen each other, not since that disastrous night after their last show. "Chase. Hi. It's... it's good to see you."

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