He walks away, down the steps, hands in his pockets, shoulders a little tense like he’s thinking too much again.
And even with Lily chatting beside me, even with the golden glow of the lake and the calm after the storm—
I feel the space he leaves behind like an ache.
We spread the remaining blankets across the patio chairs, settling in. Lily sinks into the one beside mine and curls her legs up, tying her hair into a messy bun.
She looks older like this—almost teen-ish, not the little-girl version everyone keeps defaulting her to.
She nudges my elbow lightly. “Did you finish the song you were working on the other day? The one with the high note you kept missing?”
I blink. “You… remembered that?”
“Yeah. It was good.” She shrugs, pretending nonchalance, but there’s a proud little grin she can’t hide. “You should finish it.”
Warmth spreads through me—slow, unexpected, dangerous.
She’s not just a kid hanging around.
I’m starting to care about her.
And that terrifies me.
“You’re a good listener,” I tell her softly.
Her cheeks flush. “Well… you’re cool.”
Cool.
God.
I can’t remember the last time a compliment felt this pure.
My phone buzzes on the table.
I don’t want to look.
But I do.
A new text.
Unknown number.
U.S. area code I know all too well.
Hi Lucky. This is Jenna from Jett Langford’s office. We’ve been trying to reach you. It’s urgent. We need to discuss your return. Call me.
My stomach drops so fast I almost choke on air.
No.
No, no, no.
The screen blurs.
My hand shakes.
The lake, the sun, Ethan, Lily — the whole world narrows to a pinpoint.
