Page 65 of Until Forever Falls

My vision blurs, and I blink violently, fighting to keep the shards of my broken heart from spilling out. I’m staring at the person I thought I knew like the back of my hand—the other half of my soul. Now, suddenly, he’s a stranger, pieces of him exposed that I never even knew were there.

Beckett reaches for me, but I jolt back. “I would’ve fucking cheered for you, Becks—like I always have!” I snarl, my words coming out in a rough hiss. “We’re twins! We’re supposed to have each other’s backs. I would’ve screamed for you to take that scholarship, to chase your goddamn dreams. You should know that! I’d have figured it out—hell, I might’ve even stayed here. But if you honestly think I’m the kind of person who’d hold you back, who’d be disappointed in you and your accomplishments, then you don’t know a single fucking thing about me.”

He flinches, his body caving under the impact of my words like he’s fucking crushed. Shame blooms across his face, but I don’t regret it for a second. Heneedsto hear it. His mouth opens, but nothing spills out at first—like he’s too ashamed to even breathe, let alone speak.

“Dill, I don’t thi—”

I cut him off, the wound bursting through my chest like a damn breaking loose. “No, youdo.” I choke on the truth, my voice breaking. “Maybe you won’t own it, but you lied to me Beckett—because you thought you had to. And that? That’s what cuts the deepest.”

I don’t give him the chance to speak. Can’t. My chest is fucking splintering, and if I stand here a second longer, I’ll crack wide open for everyone to see. I spin around, storming off, fists balled so tightly my knuckles pop. Brooks follows behind me, but I can feel his concern—he’s waiting for me to break.

I don’t stop until we make it to his truck. I glance over to him and let out a frustrated sigh. “Can we just get the hell out of here? I’m not up for a bonfire anymore.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

I’m grateful he doesn’t try to change my mind. I slip into my side of the cab and sink against the door, exhaustion settling deep in my bones. Words sit heavy on my tongue, but I’m not ready to speak—not yet.

How could Beckett lie to me like that? And for what? Did he really think I’d flip just because he wanted something for himself? A damn scholarship, of all things? A rage I can’t control rises up in me. Does he really think I’m that selfish?

I should go back, fix this mess, force the words out before they twist into something worse, like resentment. But I can’t. Not tonight. Not when my bones feel like they’re cracking with anger, not when the hurt is so raw I can barely breathe. He’ll have to wait. Tomorrow, maybe, when the fire inside me isn’t ready to burn everything down. Right now, I just need a minute to be, to figure out how the hell the one person I’ve always trusted just…didn’t trust me at all.

24

Brooks

Then

I park the truck on the shoulder of the road, killing the engine. The headlights cut out, leaving only the moonlight to guide us. The trailhead isn’t much—just a gap in the trees and a sign so faded you can barely make out the words, but it’s one of my favorite spots. Quiet. Out of the way. Exactly what Dylan needs right now.

She steps out of the truck, wobbling slightly on the uneven ground, and looks around, her expression skeptical. “Okay, and where exactly are we?” She tugs at the hem of her dress, glancing down at her heels. “Because I’m not exactly dressed for a nature documentary.”

Her voice has that teasing edge, but I can tell she’s still holding onto everything that happened back there with Beckett. She’s trying, though, and that’s something.

I gesture toward the faint sound of running water. “Just trust me.”

She huffs, crossing her arms. “Famous last words.”

I smirk, taking her hand before she can argue. “Come on, it’s not a hike. The path is mostly paved, you’ll survive, Rivers.”

She lets me lead her, albeit with a dramatic sigh. “If I break and ankle, you’re carrying me back.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

I’ve been working on this for a while now—showing her all the reasons Rockport isn’t as bad as she thinks it is. When she first moved here, she said she wasn’t the outdoorsy type, and yeah, maybe that was true then, but I’ve seen her soften to it. Little by little, she’s letting herself see it, feel it.

The trail opens up after a bit, the night’s glow spilling through the trees in patches. It’s enough to see where we’re going, just barely. I glance at her again, catching that little shift in her expression. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s there—a reluctant kind of appreciation.

“You like it,” I say, nudging her lightly.

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. “It’s…not terrible.”

I chuckle. “I’ll take it.”

The swimming hole comes into view, the water catching the light just enough to look silver. I motion toward it. “Better than some crowded bonfire, though, don’t you think?”

Her fingers find mine, fitting perfectly as I lead her closer to the bank. The water is so clear it mirrors the night sky, the trees rippling across the surface like they’ve been painted on glass.

After a quiet moment, she looks at me. “So, what’s the real reason we’re here?”

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