I meet his eyes then. Really meet them.
“You did break me,” I say gently.
He winces like I’ve struck him.
“But not in a way I couldn’t come back from,” I continue. “You broke the version of me that was shrinking to fit you. The one who kept making herself quieter so you’d stay.”
His breathing is uneven now.
“I didn’t see it,” he whispers.
“I know,” I agree. “That was the problem. Especially because it was ridiculously intentional. You didn’t care what I wanted. You seriously molded me in the way that would’ve fit exactly what you wanted.”
I take a breath. This part matters.
“I’m glad you left me,” I admit. “Not in the moment. God, not then. Then, I drowned in tears like you had died. The thing you did was horrible and made me question everything about myself.” I rub my hands together, almost feeling for the place the engagement ring used to cut into my finger. “But big picture? Looking at it now? Thank you fortossing me the way you did. I’m stronger. Clearer. I know myself now. I know what I deserve. And it isn’t someone who chooses me halfway.”
He swallows hard, eyes glossy. This isn’t the Sadie he remembers—the one who softened every truth for his comfort.
“You’re different,” he admits.
And so is he. The Nick I used to miss was always so confident in his ways. He knew where he was going, how he’d get there–no questions asked. Now he feels like a walking question mark where just enough breath could sway him one way or the other.
“I’d fucking hope so.” I shift my weight, one hand on my hip.
He doesn’t know it but he gave me the best compliment. Iamdifferent, in a way that feels right. A sliver of me can recognize what it took for him to make this trip—the old Sadie would view this as effort when really it’s self-preservation.
I take a deep breath and continue, “There’s nothing I can help you with. You need to talk to her, but you already know that.” I step back slightly, creating space. “It’s not my job to help you through this, Nick. You already took enough from me.”
His head drops.
“But,” I add, because kindness is still mine to give, if I make that choice. “Just because you did that to me doesn’t mean someone else will do it to you. Some people are still good.”
He looks up, startled.
“That includes me,” I finish quietly. “I survived you.”
The bell above the door rings again.
I don’t turn around. I don’t need to. I know exactly who is walking in.
“Good luck. There’s still time for you to make better choices,” I say, stepping past him toward Maren. Toward Colson, who stands in the doorway, waiting for me. “Safe travels.”
Colson doesn’t flinch; he opens up an arm, pulls me in. His hand tugs at my shoulder and he kisses my temple, our eyes still on Nick.
Nick looks wildly uncomfortable, like he opened the wrong door and stumbled into someone else’s birthday party or something. He doesn’t fit here. He doesn’t fit with me.
When he realizes I’m not going to say anything else, and Maren is even acting like he doesn’t exist, he walks up to Colson. I hold my breath.
He looks at Colson like it’s painful and offers, “I’m sorry for last night.” His words feel genuine but they’re also unwanted. “Do better than I did…” Words trail as Nick has his hands on the door, ready to push it open.
Colson doesn’t skip a beat when he replies, “That won’t be hard.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
And then he’s gone. Colson doesn’t say anything; instead, he puts his lips on mine, wrapping his arms around me and picking me up. Our kiss doesn’t break until he starts spinning us and I can’t help the laugh that pulls from my chest.
When Colson sets me down, his eyes are bright and his smile makes me beam back.
Quick, he kisses me again. He pulls back, my forehead to his, and he says, “There she is. Sunshine girl.”
