I nodded, unable to speak, and quickly slipped out of the auditorium, my heart racing as I ran in the direction Nova had gone.
Even though I was sprinting, the crowd outside made it hard to navigate. The parking lot was jam-packed, cars double-parked and parents spilling onto the streets. Frantically, I scanned the area until a flash of Luna’s blonde hair caught my eye. They were ahead of me, the three of them walking briskly toward the parking lot.
“Wait,” I shouted.
My pulse pounded in my ears, and I couldn’t tell if they’d heard me or if they’d started walking faster on purpose.
I finally caught up to them, adrenaline rushing through me as I reached out and grabbed Nova’s arm, forcing her to stop. She turned sharply, her face a mix of defiance and something deeper—something I couldn’t quite place.
“No,” she said, while taking a step in front of Luna and the little girl, essentially shielding them. “You don’t get to do this right now.”
I stared at her, my chest heaving from the sprint and the weight of her pointed words. But I couldn’t back down. Not now.
“I need answers, Nova,” I said, my voice low but firm as I gestured toward the little girl standing nearby. “I deserve them.”
Her eyes flicked briefly to the girl, then back to me. There was a flash of something—hesitation, guilt, maybe both—but itvanished just as quickly as it appeared. She let out a sharp breath, her shoulders dropping slightly.
“Fine,” she said, her tone clipped. “I’ll meet you tomorrow morning at nine. Downtown Winnetka. That little coffee shop on Oak Street—The Village Grind. Without her.”
I nodded. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. “Okay. Thank you.”
Nova started to turn away, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Tell me one thing, Nova,” I said as low as I could.
She froze, her eyes went wide, and for a moment I thought she’d turn around and walk away, but she nodded. “Yours.”
36
charlie
By the time I finally got home that night—after saying goodbye to the parents, watching the other grade levels perform, and tying up the last-minute tasks before winter break—all I wanted was to collapse on the couch with Austin. The plan was simple: snuggle up, put on our favorite TV show, and demolish an embarrassing amount of pizza.
But when I walked in the door, I was surprised to find a note from Austin. Auburn and Ledger had gone out for the night, and he was staying at their place with Evie. I tried texting him afterward to see if he wanted company, but it was already past nine, so the two of them must have passed out.
What was supposed to be a cozy, lazy night turned into something entirely different. With the house quiet and no one around, I decided to treat myself to an impromptu home spa night. It wasn’t the evening I’d envisioned, but it was a chance to unwind in a way I hadn’t in ages.
With my face covered in green, I sank back into the soft covers, then kicked my feet up on the bed. The house was so still, and without the hum of Austin’s presence, it felt emptier than usual. I hugged his pillow to my chest, careful to keep my maskfrom touching it, and breathed in the faint trace of him—clean, warm, and comforting. I had it bad.
Really bad.
How could I not? Austin always showed up for me. Tonight, like every other time I needed him, he’d been there, cheering me on, steady and unshakable. I closed my eyes. I was in love with him—crazily, madly, completely in love.
The thought should have scared me. After all, this was supposed to be a temporary arrangement. A marriage built on convenience, not feelings. But the idea of a time when our fake marriage would actually have to end felt unbearable. Could I really go back to a life without him?
I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding with a question I wasn’t sure I was ready to answer. What if this wasn’t temporary? What if we just... stayed married? The thought was wild, reckless even, but it lit a spark in me that I couldn’t ignore.
Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t about pretending anymore. Maybe it never had been.
I wandered into the bathroom, the tile cool beneath my feet as I leaned over the sink to rinse off the mud mask. I patted my face dry with a towel, catching my reflection in the mirror. There was a spark in my eyes, a certainty I hadn’t let myself feel before.
Back in the bedroom, I kicked my feet up again, this time with a smile tugging at my lips. The weight of the day, the stress of the holidays, all of it melted away as I let myself focus on one thing: Austin. He wasn’t here tonight, but he’d shown up in every way that mattered. He always did.
With the break stretching ahead of me, I had time. Time to spend with him, to show him what I’d come to know deep in my heart—that this didn’t have to be temporary. That it could be real.
Grinning, I curled up against his pillow, already planning how I’d spend every second of the days ahead with him, making sure he knew.
37
austin
