I hit shuffle on the speaker. The Bluetooth connects. And the first notes fill the room.
My blood goes cold.
It's the song. The song. The one Harper was singing in my shower a few weeks ago, soap suds running down her back, completely off-key, dancing under the water while I leaned against the bathroom door and watched her with my heart so full I thought it might actually burst.
It’s the song that, right there and then, made me decide it needed to be our wedding song.
She didn't know I was there. She was just singing. Happy. Free. In my house. In my shower. In my life.
And I stood there thinking, this is it. This is what the rest of my life is supposed to look like.
My hand grips the edge of the counter.
"I love this song," Monica says, swaying her hips as she walks toward me.
I can't speak. The melody fills every corner of the room, and it doesn't belong to Monica. It doesn't belong to this night. It belongs to a girl with honey-blonde hair and soap in her eyes, singing like nobody was listening.
Monica sets her glass down. Steps into my space. Her fingers trail up my chest, and she rises on her toes, pressing her lips to my neck. Her hands drop to my belt, fingers working the buckle.
"I've wanted to do this all night," she murmurs against my skin.
I close my eyes.
And all I see is Harper. Singing in the shower. Laughing on the ridge. Running through the dark so I could chase her.
I see the freckles on her nose. The nose ring. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she's nervous. The way she saysAceyturns me into someone who doesn't recognize himself. The softer, better version, the man I'm only capable of being when she's beside me.
Monica's fingers pull at my belt. My hand comes down over hers gently.
"Stop," I say quietly.
She pulls back and looks up at me.
"Did I do something wrong?" she whispers.
"No." I shake my head. "No, you didn't. You're great, Monica. You really are. This isn't about you."
"Then what is it?"
I blow out a breath and run my hand through my hair.
"There's someone else," I say. "There's always been someone else. And I thought I could do this—I thought if I just went through the motions, it would fix something. But it won't. And you deserve better than being the woman I'm using to try and forget another one."
She's quiet for a moment. Then she steps back, picks up her whiskey, and takes a long sip.
"It's Harper, isn't it? My friend was telling me about her," she says. Not angry. Just knowing. The way everyone in this town knows. Because in New Falls, Ace and Harper's story didn't end; it just got stuck.
"Yeah," I say. "It's Harper."
She nods and sets the glass down.
"For what it's worth, Ace? She's the dumbest woman alive, leaving you twice."
I almost smile. "I appreciate that. I left her this time."
She frowns. “And yet… You still can’t move on?”
I shrug. “I guess not. Not yet, anyway. I’ll get there.”
