Page 21 of Kellan & Emmett
His expression—hope and devastation knotted together—nearly undid me. Nearly.
The night held its silence, broken only by my heartbeats drumming in my ears.
I turned and walked, every step like fire down my spine.
If he wanted back in my life, he’d have to earn his way back this time.
May 25
I’ve wasted half my life hiding from the one thing that ever felt real. Fear kept me silent, and silence became a habit until twenty years were gone. Tonight I saw what that silence cost—not just him, but me too. The space between us was full of everything I never said.
And yet, when I looked at him, I felt something I thought I’d killed a long time ago. Hope. Fragile, dangerous hope. I don’t know if I deserve another chance, but I want it. I want to prove that running doesn’t have to be the only thing I’m good at.
—K
Chapter 12
Kellan
Emmett’s keys glinted on the nightstand, catching the thin slice of morning light that slipped through the curtains. I should’ve dropped them at the front desk. Should’ve knocked on his door and shoved them back into his hand. Instead, they sat there, a reminder that last night hadn’t been some fever dream.
I scrubbed both hands over my face, but it didn’t shift the heaviness lodged in my chest. I’d walked into the reunion telling myself I could handle it—one weekend, a few polite conversations, then I’d vanish again. Clean break. But Emmett’s voice kept looping in my head:You kissed me.
The words split me in half. Not because they weren’t true, but because of what I heard under them. The hurt. The kind that clung twenty years later, no matter what I said now.
Restless, I pushed to my feet and paced the room. Four walls, clean lines, neutral décor—his touch in everything, even if he might not have picked the paint swatches himself. The inn was his world. Solid. Built. Permanent. And me? I’d never felt more temporary.
At the window, I stared down at the courtyard where a couple of guests lingered over coffee. Their laughter carried up, light and easy.
My gaze slid back to the keys. They weren’t just metal. They were his parting shot, his line in the sand.You want back in my life? Prove it. Work for it.
And God, I wanted back in his life. I didn’t know if I could prove anything to him after twenty years, but I could damn well work for it.
The thought settled heavy in my chest as I left the room, the keys burning in my pocket. By the time I hit the stairs, the smell of coffee and butter had already reached me, tugging me toward the inn’s small dining space.
Cozy but unpretentious, the room hummed with the low murmur of goodbyes. A few reunion stragglers lingered, faces I recognized from the weekend, shadows under their eyes as they nursed coffee and loaded plates one last time. Suitcases leanedagainst chairs, ready for the road. They offered me sleepy good mornings, the kind that carried both fondness and fatigue.
At the buffet, a girl in her early twenties—staff, probably college-aged—hovered with a carafe. She caught my eye as I reached for a plate. “Sophia,” she said with a quick smile, tapping her name stitched into the apron. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said, letting her pour.
I moved down the line, picking through what was left—scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, a biscuit still warm from the tray the older woman had just carried out of the kitchen. She had that brisk, maternal air of someone who could run the whole place without raising her voice.
And then—him.
Emmett.
He stood at the far end of the sideboard, sleeves rolled, restocking a pan of grits. He didn’t flinch when our eyes met. Didn’t soften, either. Just a polite nod, the kind you’d give any guest. Professional. Efficient. Then he was moving again, laughing low with someone else at the next table like the night before had never happened.
I carried my plate to an empty table. The food smelled good, solid, but my stomach didn’t care. I picked at the biscuit, tearing it into pieces more than eating it.
I’d barely settled into my seat when the chair across from me scraped back.
“Guess it’s just us stragglers now,” Megan said, sliding her coffee onto the table before I could answer.
I smiled faintly. “Derrick and Britt already hit the road?”
“An hour ago. Jamal too. Early flights, real life waiting.” She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? After all the noise and laughter, just…poof. Gone.”
