Breathe, Annalise.
Just breathe.
Footsteps follow.
Heavier. Familiar.
I wait for it.
The twist of a knob, the creak of a door.
And when it happens, I’m not ready. I’m not ready to face him.
My stomach coils with anxiety and fear and hope and love.
So many vivid memories. So much history.
The door cracks open a sliver, and there he is—
Chase.
Blinking into the hazy sunlight. Squinting as he registers me.
Another blink. A beat.
And then recognition settles in, mirrored in his eyes, raw and unguarded.
He pulls the door open wider, standing before me in a white T-shirt and dark-wash jeans—feet bare, dog at his side, wearing a dumbstruck expression.
He looks the same. He looks different.
A dream dressed as devastation.
Chase swallows hard. “Annie.”
My body vibrates as I stand on his stoop, slack-jawed and sunk, unable to look away. We stare at each other for a long time. Saying nothing. Saying everything.
A spectrum of mixed emotions rockets through me.
How dare you.
I miss you.
Why did you leave me?
Can I come in?
You look different.
You look perfect.
I love you.
Chase’s lips part to speak, but nothing comes out. Just a strangled sound, bleeding with all the same things I’m feeling.
Then he looks down at the wooden porch like he still wants to hide.
My hands curl at my sides. “Surprise,” I whisper.
