This was the right choice. It had to be. A real job. A real paycheck. A fresh start in a city that once made sense. I had worked for this. Dreamed of it. I had chased it across internships and unpaid pitches and client meetings that stretched past midnight.
Now I had it.
So why did my chest feel hollow?
The road unspooled ahead. Clean lines. Clear direction. I could drive straight into the next chapter.
But I kept checking the mirror.
The view behind me shimmered through the glass. Just rain. Just sky. No headlights.
No one chasing.
I swallowed. My throat stayed tight.
I wanted him to stop me. I wanted him to say stay. He didn’t.
So I left.
That should have made it easier.
But the town still clung to me. The diner. The squeaky booths. The way the counter hummed when the coffee machine kicked on. The way Jason looked at me like he saw every version of me at once and didn’t flinch.
I kept driving.
Rain tapped the roof like a clock running out of time. The mirror showed nothing but gray.
No headlights.
No reason to turn around.
Except the ache in my chest that wouldn’t quiet.
And the hoodie in the trunk that still smelled like his cologne.
JASON
Istood on Emily’s dad’s porch with rain pouring off my hair and jacket, water pooling at my feet. My chest rose and fell like I had run the whole way from the diner, because I had.
Emily’s father took one look at me and stepped aside. “She already left.”
I nodded, breath tearing at my ribs. “What? I need to find her.”
He watched me for a second. “What happened?”
“I told her to go,” I said. The words hurt. “I thought it was the right thing. I thought I was protecting her. But I love her. I’ve always loved her. And I want to marry her. Not someday. Now.”
He stared at me like I’d said something obvious. “Then what the hell are you still doing here?”
I blinked. “I thought maybe… But she’s gone…”
He grabbed his keys and jacket from the hook. “We’ll take my truck.”
The truck tore down the wet road, wipers scraping back and forth. The cab smelled like coffee and peppermint. I picked at the zipper on my hoodie, my hands useless, my head full of words with no place to land.
“I keep thinking about the morning she came back,” I said. “She walked into the diner like time hadn’t touched her. Like everything in me didn’t light up just seeing her.”
Dan kept his eyes on the road. After a moment, he said, “She doesn’t need someone to protect her from hard choices. She needs someone who won’t walk away when they get hard.”
