He had been the one to remind Jaxon that Sara was still out there.
That it wasn’t over.
And now?
Now, Jaxon was trying to do the same for him.
Chase let out a slow exhale, staring at the water. “Doesn’t feel like she’s coming back,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jaxon was quiet for a long moment. “Neither did Sara.”
Chase turned his head, his brows furrowing. “And yet, here she is.”
Sara grinned, resting her chin on her knee. “What can I say? Jaxon is persistent.”
Jaxon smirked. “You’re damn right.”
Chase huffed out a breath, shaking his head. “That was different.”
Jaxon lifted a brow. “Was it?”
Chase didn’t answer.
Because the truth?
It wasn’t different at all. It was the same. And the fact that Jaxon knew exactly how this felt made Chase want to crawl out of his own fucking skin.
Because what if this really wasn’t over? What if Savannah was just as wrecked as he was? What if she was sitting somewhere in Asheville, staring at her phone, aching to call him?
Chase sighed, dragging a hand down his face.
Sara sat forward, her expression softer now. “I know it hurts, Chase. And I know there’s nothing anyone can say right now that’s gonna make it hurt any less.”
She reached over, squeezing his arm.
“But if I know Savannah—if I know you—this isn’t how your story ends.”
Chase swallowed against the tightness in his throat. He wanted to believe that.
God, he wanted to believe that so fucking bad.
But right now?
All he had was silence.
And that silence was fucking killing him.
Sara smirked, nudging his arm. “Besides, if your story really was over, you would’ve gone home with Jenna tonight.”
Chase laughed.
An actual, real, fucking laugh.
Jaxon grinned. “There he is.”
Sara smirked. “I was starting to think you died, but nope. Just depressed as hell. Love that for you.”
Chase chuckled, shaking his head, feeling lighter than he had in days.
