Page 57 of Until Forever Falls

Aaron walks at my side, the steady rhythm of his steps syncing with my own. I fiddle with the hem of my dress, questioning every inch of it. The deep red fabric clings just a little too tightly, its sleek lines and soft shimmer too polished, too perfect. The strapless design is elegant, accentuating my every move, and yet, the color feels wrong, like an old wound I can’t cover up. The murmur of voices and faint strains of music seep through the walls, like a thin veil that prickles uncomfortably at my skin.

“Hope you’re ready,” Aaron says, his tone calm but pointed enough to make me hesitate.

The reasons I’d given for coming this weekend—closure, proving I could face this, showing I’d moved on—feel insane now, flimsy excuses I don’t fully believe anymore.

Inside, I stop in my tracks. Round tables are scattered across the gym, draped in white cloth and surrounded by chairs tied with gold and teal bows. Fairy lights snake across the ceiling, casting a soft glimmer that makes the decorations sparkle. It’s so similar to our prom it’s eerie, though the energy is far more muted now.

Aaron lets out a low whistle. “They really went for it, huh?”

I manage a faint nod in acknowledgement, my thoughts slipping from the present. In a span of a heartbeat, I’m back in the past.

Beckett had insisted we make the most of it, grabbing my hand and spinning me right there in the middle of the dance floor. The memory stirs, unsettling me before it finds its place. That was then. Now, it’s just me, Aaron, and the undeniable burden of what’s missing.

At the check-in table, a woman in a tailored navy satin blouse and delicate gold jewelry beams at us. “Welcome back!” she chirps, pushing a clipboard toward me.

I sign my name quickly, ready to retreat when a familiar voice catches me by surprise.

“Dylan?”

I turn and see Miles Davenport, wearing a look of disbelief that I’m here. He’s older now, more weathered in subtle ways, but still Miles. His surprise feels too bright against the murkiness inside me.

“Miles,” I say, my voice thin and not at all convincing.

He strides toward me, pulling me into a kind hug like no time has passed. “I can’t believe it! Holy shit. Look at you! You look incredible.”

I step back, brushing an invisible strand of hair from my face, motioning vaguely toward Aaron. “This is Aaron, my boyfriend.”

Aaron offers his hand, his usual ease diffusing the moment. “Aaron Sinclair. Nice to meet you.”

Miles takes it warmly. “You too. I’m glad Dylan’s got someone with her.”

The moment his words start to register, a petite brunette I hadn’t noticed steps forward. “This is my wife, Breigh,” Miles says, the word “wife” catching like a splinter.

Breigh smiles at me, genuine and unassuming. “I’ve heard so much about you over the years,” she cheers. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I know Miles was hoping you’d be here.”

“You too,” I reply automatically, though the introduction feels surreal. Miles has a wife. A wife he’s told about me? He built a life. I don’t know why he wouldn’t, but the thought that people have moved on, stings more than I expected. Pressing against a part of me that’s been standing still for far too long.

Miles shifts slightly, like he’s testing the air between us. “I’m really glad you came out,” his words are almost tender. “I mean, I know how hard it must’ve been for you to even make the trip back here.”

I offer a single, firm, bob of my head, keeping my response measured. His careful choice of words leave me to wonder if he’s holding back for my sake, or his own. Either way, one thing is clear: Aaron doesn’t know the full story, and tonight isn’t the time to change that.

“It’s not the same without…” He pauses, his expression clouding as his words falter. “Without…everyone here.”

There it is.The shadow I knew would be waiting for me tonight. The name he didn’t say, the presence no one else in this room could feel missing the way I could. I murmur something polite, though I don’t register what I’ve said.

Aaron lightly touches my arm, drawing my attention back to him. “Want to grab a seat?”

I latch onto the suggestion. “Please.” My farewell to Miles and Breigh is brief, clipped, and final.

“It’s good to see you, Dylan,” Miles calls after me. “Really. If you’re around later tonight, I’d love to catch up.”

Aaron steers me toward the seating area, his presence keeping me from completely falling apart. Around us, voices blur, laughter bubbles up in bursts, and music hums faintly through the gym. None of it feels real.

Miles’ words burrow deep. They dismantle me, leaving nothing but exposed nerve endings and the biting reminder that I can’t break free from them.

It’s obvious now that I clung to the lie that coming back meant moving on because it was easier than admitting the truth—that I have no fucking clue how to let him go. And part of me doesn’t ever want to.

21

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