Page 18 of It's Only Ever Been You

Emma: Sounds like someone needs ice cream. What’s your flavor tonight?

Me: Mint chocolate chip, obviously.

Emma: Wrong answer. It’s cookie dough or nothing.

Me: You’re actually insane. But I’ll allow it, just this once.

I catch myself smiling at the screen, knowing that the next time we see each other, it’ll be another chance to pick up where we left off. And little by little, each moment feels like home. We found our way back to each other, there’s a weight in every look, a quiet intensity in our connection that wasn’t there before. It’s in each shared laugh, a passing touch, brings us closer, grounding us in something neither of us is ready to name but both of us can feel.

Every time I look at her, I’m reminded of what could have happened that night at the party and of everything I almost lost. I don’t try to hide the way I feel anymore, either. I don’t tell her directly, but she sees it in the way I’m there, always. And she doesn’t shy away. In fact, she seems to lean into it. Maybe she’s ready to trust me again.

We start spending our weekends together, just like we used to. But now everything feels layered withsomething deeper. She catches me watching her sometimes, and instead of looking away, she holds my gaze, daring me to say what I won’t put into words.

A month passes, and we’ve grown closer than ever. Then, one afternoon, we’re sitting on her front porch, flipping through old yearbooks and laughing about the ridiculous hairstyles we thought were cool when we were younger, when her mom calls out from the doorway.

“Emma! There’s a letter for you here…from the university.”

Her face lights up, and she jumps up, grabbing the letter with wide eyes. “Oh my god, Ethan, it’s here. My acceptance letter.”

“Open it!” I say, my excitement matching hers.

She tears into the envelope, her hands shaking as she reads the words on the page. Her face breaks into a grin, and she looks up at me, eyes shining. “I got in. Ridgefield University accepted me!”

I pull her into a hug, lifting her off her feet, her legs wrapping around my waist. God I missed that! “I knew you would. I never doubted it for a second.”

She pulls back, laughing as she wipes away a tear. “And I got a scholarship, too. It’s not everything, but…it’s enough to make this real.”

“I’m so proud of you, Em,” I say, feeling a rush of pride and relief. I’ve always known she was destined to do amazing things.

Then, as if on cue, my own phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, and my heart skips a beat when I see the subject line of the email: Ridgefield University Admission and Scholarship Notification.

I read it, hardly breathing. They accepted me too—on a football scholarship. It’s a full ride.

“Emma,” I say, looking at her with a grin. “Looks like we’re going to college together. I got into Ridgefield too.”

The relief, the excitement, the overwhelming feeling of everything we’ve been working toward—it hits us all at once. She throws her arms around me again, and for a moment, we just stand there, holding onto each other. Both of us finally starting to see the future we dreamed about all these years.

Chapter Seven

Ridgefield University

Emma

College

Mom and I arrive on campus and it stretches out in front of us, alive with people and movement, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m surrounded by more strangers than familiar faces. Ridgefield University has this buzzing energy—everyone rushing around, carrying their belongings, chatting with their families, seeming to all know exactly where they’re going. And here I am, clutching my map like a tourist.

But I’m here. And I’m not alone.

“Looks like you’re already lost,” Ethan’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to see him standing there, hands in his pockets, leaning casually against a brick column. His expression is relaxed, but there’s a spark of something in his eyes—maybe he’s just as nervous as I am. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

I can’t help but smile, feeling the tension in my shoulders loosen a bit. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d notice.”

He chuckles, stepping up beside me. “Trust me, I noticed. You looked like you were about to ask that squirrel for directions.”

I nudge him, rolling my eyes. “Hey, it’s a big campus. Just wait until you get lost and see how hilarious it is.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about,” he teases, and I notice the way his hand brushes my arm as we walk. The casual, comfortable warmth of it feels grounding, a reminder that no matter what, we have each other.

---