Page 67 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

“I swear to you, Fallon, I never would’ve left after that weekend without saying goodbye. Hell, I even signed itMr. Hotshot.”

A faint smile tugs at her mouth but quickly falls, her eyes lowering to the ground as she processes the new information. “I’m just…I don’t understand. All this time, I thought you left without a word, and now you’re telling me there was a note…” She trails off, her voice barely a whisper. “What did it say?” she adds after a brief pause.

Could it have been more than a weekend fling if things had turned out differently?

The unspoken question lingers in the air. Despite the ache forming in my chest, I know I have to tell her the truth, even if it’s the most painful answer either of us wants to hear.

“I said the weekend was perfect and that I wanted to see you again.”

Fallon’s gaze lowers to the floor, and her hands go limp in mine. “What did you think happened when I didn’t call you?” she asks, her voice so soft I have to lean in closer.

“I figured something came up, and you would call me when you could. I even reached out to the catering company, hoping to track you down, but they said they couldn’t give out private information.” I rub the back of my neck, dreading to admit the next part. “I figured you ghosted me, and a few weeks later, I saw a photo of you on the Stormbreakers’ social media. You had your arm around Jeremy, their star left wing, and I assumed you were together.”

“I moved to Florida with him after he signed with the team, but he broke up with me after his first season. He wanted the freedom to date other people and didn’t want to be tied down. That was a year before I met you. The team must have posted an old photo to their page.” She chews on her lower lip, glancing atthe ground. “I’m assuming you resented me because you thought I ghosted you?”

I slowly nod.

I’m not proud of assuming she used me for a good time before moving on, but there’s no point in bringing it up now. I’d rather not reopen any more old wounds.

The silence between us is almost suffocating. We’ve both spent ten years deceived by our own assumptions, and our stubborn refusal to address the topic until now has only fueled the misguided distance between us. There’s no time machine that can undo the damage we’ve done in the past month. Now we’re left with the remnants of the resentment and hostility that we’ve allowed to fester between us, and I’m unsure how we move past it.

“I’m not sure where we go from here,” Fallon admits, avoiding my gaze.

I tip her chin, guiding her eyes to meet mine. “Simple. We take it one day at a time and figure it out… together.”

She lets out a dry laugh. “Simple? That’s a stretch, don’t you think? What if we can’t get past this?”

There’s the Fallon I know—stubborn, fierce, and unwilling to bend, even when it’s for her own good. It’s one of the many reasons I respect her, and why I’m done holding back.

“The best things in life are worth fighting for, you most of all.”

I won’t sugarcoat it—I royally screwed up. When I saw her at my parents’, I should’ve swallowed my pride and taken the high road. Instead, I let my ego take over and cloud my judgment. There were plenty of moments in the past month where I could have put the past behind us, but I didn’t. Every opportunity I had to bury the hatchet, I took another jab at her, convincing myself she deserved payback for what I thought was her ghosting me. Now I see I was wrong in more ways than one. Which begs the question, what happens next?

Now that I know the truth, I’m certain of one thing—I’m not ready to let her go. We’ve sealed our fate with another kiss, and I don’t want it to be the last one. Everything has shifted, and I only hope it’ll lead us toward something better.

When we got home last night, I went straight to my room, unable to quiet my thoughts—my weekend with Harrison kept replaying in my mind, every moment together still as vivid as ever. I always knew our bond was rare, and now I find out that he felt the same way. Still, it’s difficult to escape the resentment I’ve carried for so long, assuming he ghosted me, and now I’m left trying to reconcile my perception of the past and what actually happened.

Harrison had a family emergency.

He left a note.

He wanted to see me again.

It’s hard to wrap my head around the idea that a note existed all along, and I never knew it. The what-ifs mock me like a cruel joke.

After a restless night, I leave my cocoon of blankets, ready to ease my mind with the one thing that always calms me: cooking.

I’m in the kitchen testing a new recipe for gluten-free bagels when my phone chimes with a text.

Harrison: I’ll be home by 6pm.

Fallon: Is everything okay?

Harrison: Yes. Just decided to leave work early tonight.

Harrison: Will you join me for dinner?

I don’t respond right away.

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