Page 76 of Second to None

I put in my earbuds and hit play.

The first track I already knew, a groovy summer tune that had played in every damn pub and supermarket some two years ago, right around the time Jessica’s diagnosis had ripped our world apart. I skipped it, heart lodged somewhere behind my collarbones.

The second track was different: lush instrumentation, warm guitar, Cass’s slightly rough voice sliding between notes like he’d always done. There was a depth the first song had lacked—subtle lyrics tucked between layers of melody.A ghostly shadow on my empty walls. Your lonely key left in the kitchen, a house but not a home.

I hit pause once the track faded, breath shallow. Recycled air refused to truly fill my lungs, too much fuckingspacebehind my closed eyelids. It took no effort to remember the gate remote I’d dropped on the kitchen island, just before I’d walked out of our house one final time, my things already gone.

Maybe I’d heard enough. I knew Cass regretted our end; he’d apologised plenty. This wasn’t new.

It felt new.

I pressed play again.

Some songs flowed by without leaving much of a trace. Others, though? Others hooked lyrics like tiny claws into me, pinprick points of pain while Emily shifted against me, giggling now and then at her cartoon. Normal. It was only my world that had tilted a little on its side.

The ground felt too steady where I stood. My guitar tuned to the absence of your voice. A backstage hallway curved like a secret. I drew a map of all the places we won’t go.

He’d been reaching out all along—I just hadn’t been listening.

A constellation where your hands no longer bruise.The pattern inked into his hip, how he’d told me it wasn’t closure but a reminder.

‘I’m still in love with you.’

Delayed impact, like a slow-motion train crash. I pressed a hand against my stomach and curled it into a fist, knuckles digging in. Not even sure why—just needed something solid, something to ground me when it felt like I was spiralling. Not like the first time, no tar-black pit of despair, seeking bitter oblivion, but just as vast, blinding disorientation pulling me in all directions.

He loved me. He’d loved me all along. And it was only now that I finally saw it—that I really, truly forgave him for how terrified he’d been, how young, tangled in contracts and camera flashes.

Now—after I’d fucked up.

The plane hit mild turbulence and steadied again, so bloody symbolic I almost laughed. Going crazy. Still sitting here with my earbuds in, Cass’s voice melted into silence minutes ago. God. My own words scraping against the back of my throat, sharp like the fresh splinter of glass.‘You’re a good lay, but that’s it.’

I hadn’t learned from our history—no, I’d recycled it. An eye for an eye, a lie for a lie. Fear of flying.

A subtle shift as the plane began its descent, the captain’s voice crackling about local weather and on-time arrival. None of it made sense. When we dipped below the clouds, England’s patchwork fields were a story I had yet to read. I barely recognised this world.

‘I’m still in love with you.’

A gentle landing. My phone searched for a signal before I was allowed, notifications popping up that I ignored. I pulled up Cass’s name and lost my courage, my hands shaking, Emily rubbing her eyes.

Mason. I opened our chat, stared at the log note about how he’d called me yesterday. He’d been right—of course he’d been right.

I inhaled, sharp and heavy, and typed,‘I think I fucked up.’

Sent it.

CHAPTER18

Cass

LAX, Saturday, August 30th

The first time Levi and I had broken up—no, theonlytime we had, because apparently, this time hadn’t meant anything, just a bit of fun because I was a good lay, right, and yeah, that fuckinghurt, God, and I—I needed to slow down my brain. Jet lag and exhaustion blended into a mismatched choir of thoughts and impressions.

Inhale, count to three.

Exhale.

Time to smile for the cameras, pretend it was alljolly good, as Levi’s dad would say in this fake posh accent that always made Emily laugh. Anyway—if I was going through the main terminal to deflect attention from her and Levi, I might as well try to look like he hadn’t just handed back my heart with a ‘return to sender’ note. I had years of acting under my belt, after all.

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