Page 46 of In Another Time

The park by the ABH lake. 9 p.m.

No reply at first. Doubt crept in like smoke under a door.

Then. . .

ODaGoat: Cool. See you there.

I pressed the phone to my chest, eyes closing as I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

This was happening.

I showered, took my time getting dressed. Nothing overdone—just a black long-sleeve knit dress that hugged me right at the waist, paired with a cropped jean jacket and ankle boots. My makeup was soft but flawless, lips glossy, lashes curled, brows sharp. I pulled my hair into a sleek ponytail, checked the mirror twice, then three more times.

My eyes looked tired. Haunted. But I was still me. And I needed to do this. No matter how it ended.

I headed downstairs to find my mom sitting in the kitchen with a mug of tea and that look on her face. The one that said she knew something was off without asking. “You’re dressed like you’re meeting somebody,” she said, sipping slowly.

I gave her a small smile. “I am.”

She didn’t press at first. Just nodded. “Omir?” I paused, then nodded. Tears stung the backs of my eyes before I could stop them. I looked away. “Oh, baby. . .” she said, her voice soft and knowing. “You can leave a city, Lennox. You can leave a job. Hell, you can even leave a man’s house. But when somebody’s in your heart like that? Time don’t undo it. Distance don’t fix it. Only truth does.”

I looked back at her, finally letting a tear fall. “I’m scared, Mom.”

“Of what?”

“Of being rejected. I literally pushed him away. What am I even doing?”

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You speak your truth anyway. Because what’s worse, getting your heart broken or living your whole life wondering what would’ve happened if you’d just opened your mouth?”

The gravel crunched beneath my tires as I pulled into the small lot by the lake, the moon hanging low, silver and solemn over the water. The city felt miles away out here, even though it wasn’t. The sounds were different—quiet, still, like everything had paused just for us.

I spotted his car immediately parked crooked like he got there fast and didn’t care about lines. He was leaning against the hood, one boot crossed over the other, hands shoved into the pockets of his black hoodie. His beard was scruffy. Eyes low. His head tilted when he saw me approach, that same unreadable look in his eyes that had always driven me crazy. God, he was fine.

He always had been. But this was different. This was a man hardened by loss and sharpened by silence. Still grieving. Still standing. And every damn part of me wanted to run into his arms and tell him I never should’ve let him go.

I stepped out of the car, my boots crunching softly against the gravel. He didn’t move.

“Hey,” I said, voice soft.

“Hey.” His tone matched mine—quiet, careful—but his eyes never left mine.

We walked side by side toward the water, toward that familiar bench. Neither of us said anything, not at first. The breeze off the lake was cool and smelled like pine and memory. My heart thundered so loud I was sure he could hear it.

He stared at the lake. I stared at him. “So,” he said finally. “What’s so important it couldn’t wait?”

I took a shaky breath. “Omir. . . I need to be honest with you.”

He turned to me, jaw tight. “Alright. Be honest.”

“I love you.”

His body went still, but his face didn’t move. “Don’t.”

“I mean it,” I whispered. “I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you. I just?—”

“Don’t do that, Lennox.” His voice was firmer now. “Don’t drop this shit on me like it’s supposed to fix anything.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not trying to fix anything. I just. . . I couldn’t leave again without telling you. I had to?—”

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