Savannah swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”
Mallory scoffed. “Don’t lie to me. That’s Chase Montgomery’s. I remember the way you used to talk about him.”
Savannah shook her head, shifting her gaze back to the building, as if looking at it long enough might make it disappear. “That was a long time ago.”
“But it was real.” Mallory folded her arms. “You were crazy about him.”
Savannah let out a quiet laugh, one devoid of humor. “I was young.”
“You were in love,” Mallory corrected. “And instead, you went for the safe choice.”
Savannah’s chest tightened. “Trevor wasn’t—”
“Trevor wasn’t Chase,” Mallory interjected, blunt as ever. “I’ve heard the stories, Sav. How your face would light up when Chase was around. How even when you were with Trevor, it was always him.”
Savannah exhaled slowly, willing the memories to stay buried where they belonged. But they didn’t.
She could still picture Chase—tan skin, wind-tousled hair, the mischievousgrin he always wore like a second skin. She could still hear the sound of his laughter, the way he used to make everything feel effortless, weightless. He had been the kind of person you didn’t just forget. The kind that lingered.
She looked back at the sign, her pulse quickening.
She had spent years convincing herself that Chase had been nothing more than a reckless infatuation, a fleeting crush on someone she had no business wanting. She had told herself that leaving had been the right choice, that choosing stability over chaos had been smart.
But standing here now, staring at proof that he had stayed, that he had built something real, something lasting in this town… it made her question everything.
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said finally, her voice quieter than she intended.
Mallory studied her for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. If that’s what you want to tell yourself. But I have a feeling you’re about to find out otherwise.”
Savannah’s hands tightened on the wheel as she stared out at the quiet street. The sunset bathed everything in golden light, casting an almost nostalgic glow over the town, making it feel harder to stay detached.
She wanted to believe that Chase was just another piece of her past, another name she had long since left behind.
But deep down, she knew better.
“I get it,” Mallory said, her tone softer now. “You think letting him go was the right thing. That playing it safe was smart. But, Savannah, safe doesn’t mean happy.”
Savannah sighed, shaking her head. “Maybe some people aren’t meant to be ‘your person,’ Mallory. Maybe they’re just meant to be part of your story.”
Mallory tilted her head, watching her carefully. “And what part of your story was Chase?”
Savannah hesitated. She could still remember the way his eyes lingered when he thought no one was watching, the way his voice sounded when he said her name. The way her heart had betrayed her every single time she saw him, no matter how much she told herself otherwise.
“The chapter that never got written,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mallory let out a slow breath. “And you’re okay with that?”
Savannah forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Mallory didn’t push further, but the silence between them was weighted.
The sun had begun to dip lower, streaking the sky with hues of orange and pink, reflecting off the water in a way that made everything feel softer, almost dreamlike. For a moment, Savannah let herself sink into it—the familiarity, the memories, the ache of something unresolved.
Then, Mallory smirked. “Alright, serious moment over. Now, I’m starving. Where’s the best place to eat around here?”
Savannah exhaled a laugh, grateful for the shift. “The Low-Tide Tavern.”
Mallory raised an eyebrow. “That’s the one you said was his favorite, isn’t it?”
