I huff out a laugh, stabbing at my green beans. "Tell me about it."
For once, he doesn't crack another joke.
His expression shifts, softer, like he actually gives a damn. "I mean... I get it now. Why you seemed unsure earlier. Eighteen years of friendship is heavy. That's not the kind of history you just... toss or forgive overnight. I don't blame you for feelingconfused whether you are doing the right thing by giving him another chance."
"And as for him," Adam goes on, dragging his thumb along the condensation on his glass, "I kinda get that too. Why he didn't just confess his feelings to you. Look—when it's some random girl, who cares if she turns you down? You walk away, ego bruised for a week, and then you find someone else. No big deal."
I tilt my head, skeptical. "So what, you're saying I should cut him slack because he was scared?"
He pauses, meeting my eyes. "I'm saying... when it's your best friend? That's not just a crush anymore. That's risking the one person who actually knows you, inside out. You lose that, and you're not just heartbroken—you're alone. And guys... we think about that. A lot more than we admit."
I toy with my chopsticks, picking at a piece of sushi.
Adam, burger still half in hand, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"So yeah, I can't fault him for freezing up. He probably figured keeping his feelings for you was safer than gambling eighteen years of history on a shot that maybe wouldn't land."
I let out a short laugh, bitter at the edges.Safer for him. Not for me.
Adam lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. "But you know what the shittiest move was? Not having the guts to tell you how he felt, but still pulling the strings to keep the other guy away from you. That was not love, Care. That was him being selfish. A damn coward move."
I arch a brow, biting back a smile. "Coward, huh? Since when did you become the relationship guru?"
He smirks, unbothered. "Hey, just calling it like I see it. I know how the game works." His tone sharpens, but there's no malice—just brutal honesty.
"Like, he wasn't man enough to say,hey, I like you,but he still wanted to stake his claim. Nah. You don't get to have it both ways. You either shoot your shot, or you back off. Can't call dibs on someone if you're not willing to step up."
"You make it sound so simple."
"That's because itissimple." He winks, wiping his hand on a napkin like he just dropped the gospel. "Guys just like to screw it up and act like it's rocket science."
"Do you think I did the right thing — giving him another chance? Or should I have left it alone?" I ask.
Adam chews, thinks for a second, then shrugs like it's obvious but not simple. "You did the right thing. People aren't one-dimensional — especially people you've known for years." He meets my eyes. "But that doesn't mean everything is fixed. The pain you felt? It's real. It wasn't just a misunderstanding you can wave away."
"So here's the play: make him earn it. Don't hand forgiveness to him like it's a participation trophy. Make him squirm a little. Make him show up. Make him do the work. Make him prove he actually deserves to stand next to you again."
He grins then, that cocky edge back. "And if he whines? Good. Let him whine. Men need a little public humiliation now and then to get humble."
He taps the table with a fry, half joking but completely serious underneath. "You gave him a chance. Now let him sweat for it."
For the first time in weeks, I actually feel lighter. Like maybe I didn't screw up by letting Zach back in, because Adam just confirmed what my gut's been screaming all along—giving him a chance doesn't mean handing him a free pass.
And hearing it from Adam? A guy's perspective? Weirdly enough, it's exactly what I needed. Straightforward. No sugarcoating. Just the truth.
I find myself smiling—soft, small, but real. Because I didn't expect to be this comfortable spilling all of it to him.
Didn't expect him to listen, let alone validate me like this.
Maybe it's the way he cuts through the bullshit, or maybe it's just Adam being... Adam. But right now? I'm grateful.
CHAPTER TWENTY-four
CAROLINE
Later that afternoon, after rehearsal finally wrapped, I decided to swing by the ice rink before heading to the gym. Just for a second. Just to see Zach in his hockey element again.
It's been years since I last watched him play. I mean, I purposely blocked out everything related to him the past three years—muted his games, avoided the rink, refused to even glance at the posters plastered around campus.
