Page 90 of One Last Encore

A lump rose in her throat. Her heart swelled, then cracked just slightly under the weight of it all. She blinked fast, willing the tears back. She didn’t cry easily and definitely not in front of him.

But then Beck’s hand moved, his fingers ghosting over her cheek, catching a stray tear that had escaped.

"Why?" she asked, barely above a whisper. The word hung between them, heavy with everything she wasn’t saying. Why was he still wearing it? Why had he never taken it off?

Beck’s gaze didn’t waver. "Why do you think?" he murmured.

The way he looked at her made her chest tighten. It was raw, unflinching. And it scared her.

She wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe he had loved her with the same wild, reckless depth she had once fallen headfirst into. The way he could make her laugh without meaning to. The way it had felt like flying and falling, just to be seen.

But even the sweetest memories carried their own kind of weight. Threads of sorrow woven through the good. Little pieces of a life she had gathered up with trembling hands, after it all slipped through her fingers.

Her arm twitched as she tried to pull back, to create some distance, but Beck didn’t let go.

"Ingrid," he murmured, his voice softer now, more certain.

She swallowed hard, struggling to steady herself, but then–

"Would you start over with me?"

It wasn’t just a question. It was a plea.

His voice was measured, but underneath it was that fragile thread of hope, trembling at the edges.

"Are you serious?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"Yes," he said, eyes steady, voice soft.

The word lingered. It sent a shiver down her spine, and she wasn’t sure if it was fear or the flicker of something far more dangerous.Hope.

"This time will be different," he said, his voice low. "I’m still the same person you fell for... but I’ve grown. I’ve changed in ways I didn’t even think I could."

There was no hesitation in him now. Just quiet, unguarded truth, the kind that left nowhere to hide.

"I made mistakes," he went on, something pleading in his eyes that nearly undid her. "But I’ve worked for this. For me. For you. I’m not perfect, Ingrid. I never will be. But I’m trying. And I’ll keep trying."

Her chest tightened, old hurt rising like a tide against her ribs.

"Beck," she breathed, his name breaking against her lips like a wave against rock. Fragile. Unsteady.

Doubt clung like armor, a shield built from all the broken pieces she had quietly gathered and stitched back together. And the past lived inside her, too sharp, too deep to forget.

Beck leaned closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, the steady pull of someone who wasn’t running anymore. His voice dropped, rough and tender all at once.

"I’ll prove it," he said.

Not just a promise. A vow, carved right into the space between them. A vow he meant for her and maybe, just as much, for the boy he used to be.

Ingrid exhaled, her breath shaky, as something delicate shifted inside her. Something she wasn’t sure she could stop, even if she tried.

"Okay," she whispered, the word so soft it barely seemed to cross the space between them.

Beck’s smile was small, almost broken, but it cracked something deep inside her, an ache she hadn’t even realized she was still carrying.

The warmth it left behind seeped into her chest, slow and persistent, blooming into something tender and cautious and real. She braced herself against it, against the sharp, shimmering edges of hope–the kind that could just as easily cut as it could heal.

CHAPTER 25

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