“Chase—” She plead.
"She broke me." Chase admitted.
His words were quiet, but they held everything. And for the first time since Savannah had left, Mallory felt the full weight of what had happened.
Chase loved her. Loved her so deeply that when she walked away, she didn’t just leave him behind—she left him in ruins.
"I know she’s hurting," Chase admitted after a long pause. "I don’t doubt that at all. But, Mallory, you have to see my side of this, too. I begged her to stay. I asked—And she still walked away."
Mallory inhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Because he was right. Savannah left.
She had a choice, and she made it. And now, she was drowning in the consequences.
"I get it," she whispered, voice tight. "I do. But, Chase, if she called you—if she said she wanted to come back—"
"I’d answer." His voice was steady.
No hesitation. No doubt.
Mallory’s heart leapt. For the first time in weeks, she felt a tiny, fragile sliver of hope—
But before she could respond—before she could hold onto that lifeline—
A voice.
A woman’s voice.
Soft. Muffled. But there.
Mallory’s stomach dropped.
It was quick—just a few words, barely audible—but it was enough.
Enough to tell her Chase wasn’t alone.
Enough to tell her Savannah had waited too long.
She heard Chase shift, his voice slightly muffled as he spoke to whoever was in the room with him.
Mallory clenched her jaw, trying to breathe through the tightness in her chest.
The phone rustled again, and then—
“You still there?”
She forced herself to answer. “Yeah. I just—”
She hesitated.
Did she really want to know? Did she want to ask who she was? Did she want confirmation that Chase was already moving on?
No.
Because she already knew. Already knew what the presence of that woman meant.
Mallory cleared her throat, desperate to end the call. “I should go.”
