“Yeah.” It comes too fast, like he’d been waiting for me to say it.
It lands wrong. Too quick. Too easy. I know it’s the right answer, but the fact he didn’t even have to think about it knots in my chest and pulls tight. Burrows under my skin. Why does it bother me that he didn’t even have to think about it?
We lie there for a while, his arm draped over me, the sound of his breathing steady. But my mind’s already running in circles, replaying the call, the hesitation, the way his eyes darted away from mine.
This night won’t fix what’s between us. It won’t make him mine in all the ways that matter.
I stay still until his breathing evens out, then slip from the bed to gather my clothes. My heart is too full and too empty all at once. As I pull my sweater over my head, I glance back at him, sleeping like nothing’s changed.
Maybe nothing has.
And that’s the day I realize it could only be him.
Chapter Two
Cracks in the Picture
Sarah
Present
It’s been a year since I stood in that ballroom and watched him promise forever to someone else, and I can still feel the way he looked at me across the room.
The champagne glass in my hand had gone warm, the stem slick against my fingers, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Not when Jace turned his head just enough for our eyes to catch. One second in a crowded room, and I forgot how to breathe.
He was in a tux, standing at the altar only hours earlier, promising forever to someone else. But the way his gaze clungto mine during the reception told a different story. A story we weren’t allowed to have.
Every detail from that night is burned into me, the gold shimmer of the chandeliers, the way his new wife smiled up at him, the ache in my chest so sharp I thought I’d splinter apart. But it’s the in-between moments that haunt me most. The way he brushed past me on the dance floor, his hand grazing mine like it was an accident. The way his mouth tightened when another man asked me to dance. The way his eyes softened, just once, like he wanted to apologize for breaking both of us.
I told myself it was closure. That watching him marry Sierra would be the final nail in whatever was left between us. But I’ve been lying to myself for a year. A whole fucking year.
I sip burnt coffee from a chipped mug at my kitchen counter, scrolling through emails like it matters, like work can fill the holes he left. The house is quiet and the sunlight coming through the blinds doesn’t reach the parts of me that stayed in that ballroom.
On the surface, I’m fine. I go to work. I meet friends for drinks. I go on dates and even let men buy me dinner. But every one of them feels like a cheap knockoff compared to him. Their hands don’t feel the same. Their voices don’t hit me in the chest the way his does. I smile when I’m supposed to, laugh at jokes that barely land, and then I go home and replay a single look from a year ago until I’m raw.
I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But the truth is, I haven’t moved on.
Last week, I tried,again. Miller, a guy from work asked me out, and I said yes because that’s what normal people do. We went to a little Italian place, candles flickering on the table between us. He was sweet. He was safe. And the whole time, all I could think was that he wasn’t Jace. He didn’t have Jace’s crooked grin. He didn’t have the rough, steady voice that could unravel me in a single word. He didn’t make my pulse skip just by walking into a room.
I came home, shut the door, and cried like an idiot into my pillow. Because it’s been a year, and I’m still his even though he’s not mine.
My phone buzzes against the counter, dragging me out of the spiral. It’s Ellie, my oldest friend, sending me a string of texts I almost ignore.
Ellie:Did you hear?
Ellie:About Jace and Sierra?
My stomach twists before I even finish reading.
Me:No. What about them?
The dots dance like she’s deciding how much to say. Then it comes.
Ellie:People are talking. Speculation is… they’re getting divorced.
I stare at the screen, my pulse hammering. My first instinct is denial, because Jace doesn’t belong to me, and it shouldn’t matter. But it does. The words settle in my chest, heavy and dangerous.
Are they getting divorced?
