Page 14 of Rival Summer

"Look, I called her," I confessed, my hands tightening on the cold metal. "She told me she'd be there, waiting to talk when I got home."

"And?" His head snapped up, eyes piercing mine. "I could care less what she has to say about it."

I pushed on, urgency rising. "And I need you to know that I never knew, Reese. I never had any idea. But there's gotta be a reason, right? I know you don’t know her, but Mom—she wouldn't just leave a child behind without one hell of a good reason."

The air hung heavy between us as I searched his face for something, anything that might signal understanding. Despite the wind, sweat gathered at the back of my neck from the anticipation of this conversation.

"Didn't take you for the naïve type," he said, finally breaking the silence. His response lacked its usual bite. His gaze dropped to the ground. "But you find out the information you need… let me know how that goes."

"I do need to know the whole story," I echoed with determination. This felt like it was more than just aconversation, it was a small olive branch, tentative and unsteady, but a connection nonetheless.

Reese leaned back against the side of my truck, his hands still tucked into his hoodie, and I could see the tension in his shoulders as if bracing for a blow.

"Look," he began, his voice sounding softer then, "I know you didn't know the truth." He exhaled slowly, "And I've been an asshole for holding it against you when it’s not your fault."

I blinked, surprised by the apology that seemed so foreign coming from Reese. I didn’t think he was capable of an apology. His admission hung between us like a fragile truce.

"Thank you." My voice faltered, emotions clogging my throat. Years of stress and animosity seemed to dissolve in that confession, even if it was only for a moment.

He nodded, a half-smirk appearing for a fleeting second. "It’s a shitty situation," he continued, shifting again. "But it’s not an excuse for how I’ve treated you."

"Or Chandler," I interjected, steeling myself for his reaction. Reese's eyes narrowed slightly at her name, but he didn't interrupt. "I know you were trying to use her to get to me. She doesn’t deserve to be involved in any of this."

The silence stretched on as he digested my words. "Yeah…" his voice trailed off, and then he sighed, nodding once. "You're right. She's got nothing to do with our shit, I know that. But, just so you know, I care about her. It may have started out as something else, but it’s not like that now.”

His eyes softened for a moment, reflecting a sincerity that was rare and a little disarming. Then our gazes locked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was an unspoken agreement between us. It was clear that we both cared about Chandler, and it was a touchy subject. We both needed to tread lightly.

"I know what you mean," I added. "I've loved her since we were kids."

For a second, it seemed like he had stopped breathing. His eyes searched mine, probing for the truth in my words. "Loved her?" Reese echoed with an edge of something like surprise.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I always hoped she'd be the one. Someday." But hope was a dangerous thing, a flame that could either warm you up or burn you to the ground. And the truth was, Chandler was with him. That thought alone was enough to bring me to my knees, the pain of knowing that dream was scorched was unbearable, but my resolve was pushing me through.

It was clear that my confession had hit a nerve, stirring something within him. He stood up straight and let out a long sigh, heavy with something I couldn't quite figure out—regret, maybe. "Damn," he shook his head. "I knew you liked her, but I didn't know it was like that."

I shrugged like it didn’t matter, keeping the storm inside from showing. How could he possibly get it—what Chandler meant to me? No chance.

"Look, Riley," he paused. "I'm not going to be in your way anymore. She's... she's a great girl. She deserves someone like you."

There was raw honesty there, but I could see the internal struggle on his face, the weight of his decision pressing down on him.

"Honestly, it might’ve been possible for us to get there. I like her a lot," Reese confessed, a flicker of wistfulness passing through his eyes. "But I'm not where you are. Plus, I'd be selfish to put her through the long-distance thing in college."

I sat there listening, processing. It was clear he actually liked her, and even though he was throwing out other reasons for stepping aside, I knew the truth—it was me. Maybe, after allthese years, he had a conscience. He'd been a shitty person, but maybe this was the line he didn’t want to cross.

"I don't need you to do any of that. It's her decision." My thoughts were a whirlwind, but one thing was clear—I had my own demons to battle, my own shit to figure out. "And I've got other shit on my plate I need to deal with.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, then, as if I had taken some of the burden from him. But the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know: this wasn't just about stepping aside. It was about making amends, in whatever way he could.

"I wouldn’t be doing it for you," Reese said. "She deserves better than me."

"She deserves better than both of us," I added quietly, my thoughts flickering to Chandler's bright hazel eyes that held stories of their own—stories I could read over and over again.

"One last thing… Why now? Why did you decide to tell me at the ball after all these years?"

He looked down, scratching the back of his head. "I was tired of being her secret," he finally admitted. "I didn’t want to be that anymore."

I sighed, sort of understanding. "I'm sorry you had to carry that alone."

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