Page 61 of Cold Front
You can’t pretend like we didn’t have something special.
I swallowed, gripping the phone a little tighter. Classic Chase. Nostalgia baiting. Painting a pretty picture of our past, conveniently leaving out the messier parts.
Then the guilt started.
I get why you left.
Just wish you would have told me it would be so easy for you to get over me.
I exhaled sharply. Easy? That was the furthest thing from the truth.
And finally, the neediness. The passive-aggressive pull.
I’m going through a rough time. Hard not having you around.
My jaw clenched. This was what Chase did. This was how it had been almost from the beginning. A cycle of manipulation wrapped in soft words and half-truths. Back then, I had fallen for it. Again and again.
Until I didn’t.
I closed out of the messages, my pulse drumming in my ears. Should’ve blocked Chase months ago. Instead, I’d left one tiny door open—Instagram. The one app Chase used most often.
At the time, I told myself it was strategic—let Chase see me move on, see me happy, thriving, unbothered. The ultimate middle finger to a guy who’d spent too much time making me feel small.
But scrolling through those messages now, it hit me.
My ex didn’t need to see me winning. I did.
Holding my breath, I clicked on Chase’s profile, tapped the three dots in the corner, and hit Block.
A rush of something settled in my chest. Not victory. Not satisfaction.
Peace.
I powered off my phone and set it face down on the nightstand. The textbook was still open in my lap, the highlighted section mocking me. I sighed, rolling my shoulders. Maybe I’d focus better now.
Maybe, for the first time in a long time, I could finally move forward.
CHAPTER23
ELI
Haven Hollow Park was quiet, exactly what I needed. The trees were doing that fall thing—gold, red, orange, like a postcard. The lake was still, except for a few ripples from the breeze. A couple of people were around, but not enough to make it feel crowded. Which was perfect. I just wanted space to think, to stop feeling like my head was full of static.
I lifted my camera from where it rested against my chest and scrolled through the shots I’d just taken.A few of the towering trees, their leaves a riot of color. One of the Ice Trail, empty and waiting for the first hard freeze. Another of the Pier, reaching out over the water, its weathered wood dark against the silver-blue lake. And then there were the selfies—one with the wind ruffling my hair, another with the pier in the background, my expression caught somewhere between thoughtful and… restless, maybe?
After transferring a couple to my phone, I posted them on Instagram with captions that said just enough without saying too much.
Needed a reset. Can’t complain about the view.
I slipped my phone back into my jacket pocket and adjusted the camera strap on my shoulder as I started walking along the trail, my boots crunching over fallen leaves. The cool air bit at my cheeks, but I welcomed it. Anything to keep my thoughts from circling back to?—
“I figured you’d be here.”
The voice cut through the quiet, low and familiar.
My pulse lurched. I spun around so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Niall.
