I look back at the store. Through the display window, Rorie’s laughing with a customer, brushing stray hairs from her face.
Life didn’t stop for her. Shebuiltsomething. Without me.
And that’s okay.
She was never supposed to be mine in the first place. But fuck if I can stand here one second longer and pretend it doesn’t matter.
I shove the paper into my pocket, turn on my heel, and walk back toward the car without a word.
Sometimes you don’t need a plan. You just need a shot. A prayer. And a little glitter.
“Where are you going?” Tammy calls after me.
“I need to make good on a promise I made to myself,” I say, looking back over my shoulder at her. “I’m going to need your help. It involves sparkles. And fries.”
Tammy whoops, and rushes after me. “Nowthat’sthe Nolan Rhodes I know.”
I smile. After nine long months, I almost feel like myself again.
CHAPTER 57
GLITTER, FRIES, AND FOREVER
RORIE
The scent of cinnamon,coffee and old books wraps around me as my second skin. It’s a slow afternoon, sun slanting through the windows, a lazy day where time feels thick and syrupy.
Once I finish wiping down the front counter, I move to the display of journals near the front window and start adjusting those.
Basically, I’m trying to keep myself busy. My mind is on overdrive today and there’s this uneasiness swirling inside me for some reason.
I can’t put my finger on why.
My phone buzzes against the counter. I snatch it up.
A wrong number? The memory of the last one hits hard at first, then slow, like something sacred slipping in through the cracks.
Because that one turned into the most unexpected, electric, heart-wrecking connection of my life. An accident that felt like fate. And I still don’t know if I survived it…or if part of me is still waiting on the next message.
I swipe it open.
What’s the worst life choice you’ve ever made?
Asking for a friend.
The memory sneaks in—uninvited but stubborn—the wayCarlonce said that same latter phrase to me is eerily similar. Back when he was still a faceless number, a mistake I thought I could laugh about.
Nostalgia is a dangerous drug so I reply, because why not?
Letting a stranger drag me into a text war before coffee. Bold move.
Bold? Or fate?
Mmm. Sounds like the opening line of a bad rom com movie.
The bell above the door jingles.
“Welcome to North and Anchor!” I call out automatically, eyes still glued to my phone. “Let me know if you need anything.”
