Because Chase was fun.
That was what Savannah loved about him. And that was what she had beentrying to pretend she didn’t miss.
It wasn’t just the way he looked at her, or the way he had once made her feel like she was the only girl in the world. It was the way he existed—fully, unapologetically, bringing energy to everything around him.
Mallory felt it too. And for the first time, Savannah saw him through someone else’s eyes.
She had been so convinced that he had been suffering without her. That he had spent the past year as miserable as she had. But watching him now—laughing, confident, magnetic—she felt like she had stepped outside of her own perspective for the first time.
Had she actually believed he’d been standing still all this time?
Had she really thought he would have been stuck in place, waiting for her?
The realization hit her like a freight train. Her stomach twisted, a sharp, painful pull in her chest.
And then—
Then he saw her.
Chase turned, mid-laugh, looking for Mallory—and his gaze landed on Savannah instead.
And everything stopped.
54
Destined Echoes
Chase’slaughtercutofflike a song abruptly stopped mid-note.
His easy, confident stance faltered—just slightly—but enough that Gus muttered, “Well, there it is.”
For a second, Savannah swore the entire bar had gone silent.
Of course, it hadn’t.
People were still talking, still drinking, still caught up in whatever chaos The Hollow had to offer. Glasses clinked. Someone near the jukebox let out a loud, rowdy laugh. A dart hit its mark against the board with a soft thunk. The world hadn’t stopped.
But Chase had.
And for him, in that moment, everything else may as well have blurred into nothing.
His eyes locked onto hers.
Unblinking. Unmoving.
Like she was the last person he ever expected to see standing there.
Like she was the last person he wanted to see standing there.
Savannah’s breath caught in her throat.
Because suddenly, she wasn’t in The Hollow anymore.
She was back in time—standing on that dock, the night air thick with salt and regret, the water lapping softly against the wood beneath her feet. Watching him watch her. Memorizing every inch of his face because she knew, even if she didn’t want to admit it, that she wasn’t coming back.
That whatever they were—whatever they had been—was about to be severed.
And now?
