Savannah let out a shaky, breathless laugh, one that sounded nothing like joy. “I told him—” She wiped at her cheeks, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I told him his guest bedroom would make the perfect library. I told him to get built-in shelves. A nook under the bay window.”
Her voice broke—“I told him that books were my love language.”
Mallory gasped, “Oh my God.” Her own eyes glossing over now.
Savannah pressed the phone to her chest, clutching it like it was the only thing keeping her from collapsing.
“Mallory,” her voice fractured, barely above a whisper. “He did this for me.”
Mallory let out a shaky breath, her voice thick, “Sav—he did this for you. After you left. After you shattered him.”
Savannah covered her mouth with her hand, trying—failing—to keep the sobs at bay. But it was useless.
The weight of it crashed down on her.
The love he had poured into something she thought she had walked away from. The pieces of her that still lived in him, even after everything.
She had been running for so long.
And Chase?—
Chase had never stopped loving her.
Savannah sucked in a breath so sharp it physically hurt.
And then?
Then she sobbed. Because this?
This was love.
The kind of love that doesn’t fade, doesn’t waver, doesn’t move on just because someone walks away. The kind of love that stays etched in the foundation of a home, waiting, hoping, even when it knows it shouldn’t. The kind of love that builds bookshelves, paints walls, and leaves space—empty but expectant—knowing exactly who it was made for.
This was Chase.
Mallory sniffed, wiping a tear from her own cheek.
“That is the perfect man.”
Savannah shook her head, her body trembling, her soul unraveling.
“And I let him go.”
Mallory placed a firm hand on her shoulder, grounding her.
“Then don’t.”
Savannah’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Don’t let him go, Sav. You want to see him? Then see him. You want to talk to him? Then talk to him.”
Savannah wiped at her face, exhaling shakily. “How? I can’t just show up. What if he—”
Mallory cut her off, voice fierce, unwavering.
“We form a plan.”
Savannah stared at her, uncertainty and hope waging war inside her.
