Page 40 of Until Forever Falls

“Oh, I think I do,” she snaps, her voice rising just enough to make the door seem too thin, too close to the party below. “I see the way you look at her. Like she’s some broken puzzle you can’t wait to piece together. Honestly, it’s pathetic.”

“Chloe,” the warning in my tone barely disguises the frustration coming to peak beneath it.

She doesn’t stop. “Let’s not pretend we don’t know how this ends. She’s counting down the days until she can leave this town in her rearview mirror. And you?” A cold laugh follows. “You’re going to stay right here in Rockport. You’ll fall in line, like always, because disappointing your dad? Not an option for you. So, go ahead, keep hoping. It’s not going to make a difference, B. It won’t last, no matter how badly you want it to.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard enough. My connection with Dylan isn’t something you get to comment on. You forfeited that right a while ago. I’ve played nice, mostly to avoid drama, but don’t mistake that for anything more. This isn’t about me—it never was. If it were, your actions would have shown it. No, this is you dealing with your own insecurities by undermining her.”

Chloe’s posture tenses, and she takes a step back, her expression contorting with a mix of fury and disappointment. “Fine,” she snaps, turning on her heel. “But when she’s gone, and you’re left here alone, don’t think I’ll pick up the pieces.”

She whips around, the door slamming with a finality that makes the room feel smaller. I lean against the dresser, a long breath escaping me as my fingers tug at my hair, trying to pull my mind together. The door remains closed, motionless, offering me nothing. It might as well be the end of the world for all the answers it holds.

The thrum of life downstairs seeps back in—laughter, music thumping, and Colt’s voice rising above the rest with that unmistakable confidence that draws attention like a magnet.

I end up back in the kitchen, my steps dragging as Colt lounges against the counter, beer in hand.

“There he is,” Colt drawls, raising his drink in mock celebration. “Saw you hiding upstairs. How’d that work out for you?”

I swipe a bottle from the counter, popping the cap with a satisfying snap. “About as well as you’d expect.”

“Did she tear you to pieces or try to crawl back?”

“Both, I think,” I answer, tipping the bottle back. The beer is lacking the chill I’d prefer, but it slides down anyway, at least it’s something. “She said I’ve changed, called Dylan a ‘project,’ and then rounded it out by telling me I’ll end up alone.”

Colt snorts, nearly choking on his drink. “Damn, Chloe really went for the trifecta. Guilt trip, jealousy, and trashing your love life all in one shot. Gotta respect the commitment.”

“She acts like she doesn’t remember how we got here, like the past reset just because she decided she wants something from me.”

“Or maybe you didn’t care enough to call her on it. Something tells me you’ve been a little…preoccupied. Not that I blame you.”

“Yeah, you’ve got me there. There’s no angle with Dylan, no second-guessing what she wants. It just works.”

Colt lets out a low whistle, dragging it out for effect. “No way! You like her? Who would’ve guessed? Oh wait…literally everyone but you.”

“Thanks for the insight, Dr. Phil.”

“Can’t help it, man. I only state the obvious. And you? You’re a lost cause.”

“Glad to know I’m entertaining you.”

“More than you know.”

Graham slides into the space beside Colt, spinning a bottle cap between his fingers like a coin. “What’s going on over here? Did Brooks finally admit he’s whipped?”

“Give it a minute.” Colt smirks, raking a hand through his blond hair before letting it fall right back into his eyes. “We’re nearly there.”

“Damn, I was ready to start taking bets on how long it’d take.”

Miles’ voice cuts through like a firecracker popping off. “B! Colt! Grams! Haul it—Flip, Sip, or Strip is about to start.”

Colt’s posture straightens, like a gambler reading a promising hand. “Now that’s my kind of game.”

Graham gives the front of my shirt a quick tug before letting go, like I’m a dog on a loose leash. “Let’s go, Romeo. I’m sure your girl is out there, don’t leave her hanging.”

The backyard is packed, a loose sprawl of people filling every step, railing, and patch of grass. A game of chicken is happening in the pool, and a girl vanishes beneath the water with a dramatic splash, leaving only ripples and gloating survivors behind. Near the fence, someone’s turned over a cooler, using it as a makeshift DJ booth, with their phone hooked up to a speaker that’s seen better days. The music crackles but no one seems to care.

It’s the kind of night I’ve lived a hundred times over—except this time, she’s part of it.

Dylan doesn’t call me over or motion for me to come closer. Just tilts her cup ever so slightly, enough to prove she’s seen me, but not enough to mean anything. She’s not demanding my attention—and yet, she has it.

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