I’ve met Snow’s best friend a handful of times over the past few months — coffee meetups, dinners where she scrutinized me with those sharp eyes, always making sure I was good enough for Snow. We’ve never exchanged numbers, never had reason to. But she has mine now. This could be my only shot at reaching Snow, or it could be Nico planning to tear me apart. Either way, I have to go.
The diner is a brightly lit place that smells of stale coffee. I spot Nico immediately in a booth in the back, her arms crossed, her expression a mask of cold fury — the same protective rage I’ve seen flash across her face when Snow mentions Preston. She looks like a queen about to order an execution, and I am the condemned man walking to the gallows.
I slide into the booth opposite her, the vinyl cool against my jeans.
“You have five minutes to convince me I wasn’t wrong about you,” she says, her voice cold and sharp. “Start talking.”
The words tumble out of me in a desperate, frantic rush. I tell her everything. The staged dinner, the stuck zipper, my completeand utter ignorance of the plan. I tell her about my friendship with Jade, about her wife, Clara. I feel like I’m pleading for my life, and in a way, I am.
Nico listens, her dark gaze unwavering, her expression unreadable. She’s a human lie detector, and I know I’m being judged on every word, every flicker of my eyes, every tremor in my voice. When I’m done, she’s silent for a long, agonizing moment. She glances at her phone - checking the time against her five-minute ultimatum - then looks back at me.
“Why should she believe you?” she finally asks, her question cutting straight to the bleeding heart of the matter. “Her ex-husband was a professional liar, too. He just did it in a boardroom instead of a photography studio. He sold her a fantasy of a perfect life while he was cheating on her. You’re asking her to trust you when her entire life has taught her that men who look too good to be true always are.”
Her words are a punch to the gut because she’s right. The facts don’t matter. Not really. This isn’t about logic. It’s about trauma. It forces me to stop explaining the plot and start explaining my heart.
“Because it’s real,” I say, my voice raw with an emotion I don’t try to hide. “What I feel for her is real. She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met. She’s smart, and funny, and so damn strong. And she sees me. The real me. Not the guy on the book covers.” I take a ragged breath, the confession tearing from a place deep inside me. “I love her, Nico, so damn much. I told her that three weeks ago, and I meant it with everything in me. And now I think I’ve destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me.”
I see a flicker of something in Nico’s eyes. The icy fury softens, just a fraction, replaced by a grudging respect.
“She’s destroyed,” she says softly. “When I got to her place, she was curled up on the couch with her phone smashed on thefloor. She wouldn’t say a word. That’s not Snow.” She shakes her head. “You broke something in her, Wyatt. She was just starting to believe again, and you broke her.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I say, and I hate how helpless I sound. “She’s blocked my number. I went to her cottage — she wouldn’t answer the door. I can’t reach her. I can’t explain. I can’t—” My voice cracks. “Tell me what to do. Please. I’ll do anything.”
She lets out a long, weary sigh. “Okay,” she says, and the single word is a reprieve, a stay of execution. “I’ll talk to her. I’m not promising anything. She’s locked up tighter than Fort Knox right now. But I’ll try.”
“Why?” The question bursts out of me. “Why are you helping me?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Because I’m Team Wyatt.”
I stare at her, stunned. “Team Wyatt? You should be Team Snow. You—”
“IamTeam Snow,” she cuts me off, her voice firm. “Which is exactly why I’m Team Wyatt. Snow needs you. I’ve seen her these past three months. She’s been… alive again. Really alive, not just surviving.” Her expression softens for just a moment. “And for the record, I had you fully vetted before I signed onto Team Wyatt. When Snow first mentioned you, I ran a complete background check. Credit history, criminal record, social media deep dive, interviews with your exes, the works.”
I don’t know whether to be grateful or terrified. “You… what? Who are you?”
“My girl went through hell with him,” Nico says, her voice hard as steel. “I wasn’t about to let another asshole break her. So yeah, I checked you out. You’re clean. Boring, even. You pay your bills on time, you’ve never cheated on anyone, your exes all say you’re a decent guy who just wasn’t the right fit, and you tipwell at restaurants.” She leans forward. “Don’t make me regret my endorsement.”
She slides out of the booth and gives me a long, hard look. “You get one chance to fix this, Wyatt,” she says, her voice a deadly serious warning. “Don’t blow it.”
She turns and walks out, leaving me alone in the diner with the crushing, overwhelming weight of my mistakes.
Chapter 19
Wyatt
Three days. Seventy-two hours since I stood on Snow’s doorstep, pounding on her door, begging her to let me explain. Seventy-two hours since she refused to answer. Seventy-two hours of staring at my phone, willing it to buzz with her name.
My phone has become both my lifeline and a torture device. I read every message that comes through — my mom’s increasingly worried texts, my dad’s careful questions, Derek’s offers to come over. I read them all, but I just can’t bring myself to respond. What would I even say? How do I explain that I’ve destroyed the best thing in my life through my own stupidity?
The only person I want to hear from is Snow. Or Nico, telling me Snow will talk to me. But there’s nothing. Just silence.
The notification that pops up on my screen on day three makes my stomach drop.
EMERGENCY FAMILY VIDEO CONFERENCE
Tonight, 7 PM Central / 8 PM Eastern
Mandatory attendance
