Page 89 of Worth the Risk

Without much thought, I unlock it, and the app I’d opened all those months ago is right there, waiting.

I hesitate.

It’s been so long since I scrolled through the comments, the videos, and the mess of emotions that brought Austin and metogether. But something in me wants to know. Wants to see what people are saying now, after everything.

I take a sip of my coffee, the bitter warmth settling in my chest, and tap the app. My old post is still there, that video of Austin and I kissing back when everything was so confusing. It’s strange, the life it’s taken on without me. Thousands of likes and comments are still piling in. Videos that other people have stitched, debating the meaning of it all. I scroll through the comments while my heart does this weird little flip in my chest.

What do you think that kiss meant?

Are they together now or what?

We need answers!

That look she gave him…come on, they’re definitely a couple.

I laugh softly under my breath, shaking my head at how invested people are in something they aren’t even part of. My finger pauses on a comment thread that’s blown up overnight.

When are they going to give us an update?

We need to know the story!

Bet they’re married by now, and we don’t even know.

I can’t help it. The smile spreads across my face, and just as I’m about to close the app, I hear the sound of footsteps behind me. Austin is barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, his hair tousled from sleep. He moves toward me, the warmth of his presence instantly grounding me.

“Morning,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss on the top of my head as he slides onto the stool next to me.

“Morning,” I reply, leaning into him, my body automatically curling toward his. I rest my hand on his thigh, the simple touch enough to make me feel connected to him. Like we’ve always belonged here, in this moment.

He places a hand over mine, his thumb brushing my skin gently. “What’re you looking at?” he asks, his voice still thickwith sleep but curious. I glance down at the screen before locking the phone.

“Just the app,” I say. “The one I posted on back when all this started.”

Austin raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into that familiar grin that’s both playful and knowing. “Still getting comments?”

“Oh yeah.” I laugh, shaking my head. “Apparently, everyone wants to know what happened with us. They’ve been following along, making up stories about how we kissed and what it all meant.”

“Yeah? What are they saying?”

I unlock the phone, tilt the screen, and let him see the comments for himself. He scrolls through them, shaking his head with amusement. “They’re really invested, huh?”

“They are,” I say softly. I feel his arm tighten around me as I nestle into his side, my hand resting on his thigh. His warmth, the solid weight of him next to me—it feels right. Like this is where I’ve always belonged.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The comfortable silence stretches between us, filled with the soft rustling of the leaves outside and the distant hum of morning traffic. Then, out of nowhere, Austin breaks it.

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” His voice is quiet, contemplative.

I lift my head to look at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes are filled with that familiar mix of tenderness and curiosity, the way they always are when he’s asking me something important.

I smile, but it’s a little bittersweet. “No,” I admit, my fingers brushing lightly against his leg. “I didn’t let myself dream about it.”

He frowns slightly, turning his body toward me more. “Why not?”

I take a deep breath, my eyes dropping to where my hand rests on his thigh, the ring on my finger gleaming. “Because…I felt guilty. Loving you while I was still trying to love someone else—it wasn’t fair to you. Or to me.”

Austin’s brow furrows in understanding, and I know he’s thinking about Noah. He always knew, even when I tried to hide it from him.

“I never wanted to hurt him,” I continue, my voice barely above a whisper. “But the truth is, I was falling for you. I think I always was. And I just couldn’t let myself go there. Not when I was still holding on to something that wasn’t working.”

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