I smile, content in a way that feels rare and earned. The night hums around us—the low rush of waves, the glow of string lights, the easy warmth of his presence beside me.
For once, I’m not thinking about what comes next or what might end.
I’m right here. And right now is enough.
It’slateandwe’resome of the last people at Cherry Pit. I’m sitting next to Colson as we look out over the lake. We’re the only ones on the patio when something catches our attention from inside the restaurant. A dropped glass. People sort of yelling, or at least getting loud enough to carry out here.
Then I definitely hear Birdie say something like, “What the hell are you even doing here?”
My body reacts before my brain does.
My shoulders tense. My stomach drops. There’s a sudden, sickening awareness in my chest—like a pressure change before a storm. I know that voice. I know it the way you know a song you haven’t heard in years but still remember every word to.
Colson and I both turn to each other at the same time, our backs still to the entrance. He looks curious.
I feel frozen. My pulse is hammering in my ears. I don’t want to turn. I already know.
Then I hear him say my name. Like he’s asking a question. Like he’s agitated.
Too familiar.
I turn slowly, dread curling tight around my ribs, and there he is—standing inside the doorway, jaw tight, eyes already locked on me like I was the only reason he came.
Nick.
A full year disappears in one breath.
Birdie is squared up in front of him, arms crossed, visibly pissed, but he’s half a step past her, like he pushed his way into the space.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone.
Colson’s body shifts beside me immediately. He doesn’t step in front of me, simply gets closer. Protective without being possessive. His hand finds mine, grounding me when my knees threaten to lock.
Nick looks… wrecked. Thinner. Edgier. Like someone who hasn’t slept enough or thought anything through.
“I called,” he says, voice rough. “You didn’t answer.”
My chest tightens. “You didn’t leave a message.”
Birdie snaps, “Because she doesn’t want to talk to you!” She takes a breath then asks, “Are you drunk? Did you drive here like that?” She jabs a finger in his chest.
Nick doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Sadie, I need a minute.”
Colson steps a little bit in front of me, not all the way, but enough to make a statement. He finally speaks, calm but unmistakably firm. “It’s late.”
Nick’s gaze flicks to him then, really seeing him for the first time. The way Colson stands. The way his hand is still wrapped around mine.
Something flashes across Nick’s face—maybe surprise or regret—but it’s gone fast.
“I didn’t know you were seeing somebody,” Nick sneers.
I straighten, anger cutting through the shock. “How would you know? You’re not part of my life. You don’t get to ambush me,” I state, voice shaking but loud enough. “Not here. Not ever again.”
For a moment, it feels like everything is about to tip.
Standing here with the lake behind me and Colson at my side, I realize this isn’t just the past showing up.
It’s a test. But I’m not the same girl he left behind.
