Chapter Ten
650 Words
Jack
The truck door slammed harder than he meant to.
Jack stomped up the gravel path to the house he and Nate were painting, his boots kicking up dry dust as he went. He barely registered the summer heat pressing down on him like a weight or the distant sound of Lilly laughing in the backyard.
He was still seeing that name on her phone.
Matt ❤️
The heart had punched harder than it should’ve. And Emma’s flustered explanation—Pasco, not important, just a friend—was such obvious bullshit he didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.
“You good?” Nate’s voice called from the porch.
Jack didn’t answer until he rounded the side of the house and saw Lilly dashing through the yard, water gun in hand. Nate, armed with a paintbrush, was standing behind a plastic lawn chair like it was a shield. She aimed and fired.
“Got you again!” she shouted.
“Unfair,” Nate called. “You have superior mobility!”
“Hey, Lil,” Jack snapped.
She froze mid-step, blinking at his tone. “Yeah?”
“Go play with the neighbor kids for a bit, alright?”
Lilly tilted her head, confused. “Did something happen?”
“Just—go, Lil. I’ll call you when it’s time to come back.”
She gave Nate a quick look, then nodded and jogged off, gripping the water gun like a peace offering she didn’t get to use.
When she was out of earshot, Nate raised an eyebrow. “Jesus. Did she set something on fire in the attic?”
Jack scrubbed a hand down his face, pacing once across the yard. “No. Emma did.”
Nate straightened. “That bad?”
Jack turned, his voice low and tight. “She was up there—crying. Holding that damn prom photo. You should’ve seen her. She looked like the girl I knew. For a minute I thought maybe…”
He trailed off, hands balling into fists at his sides.
“And then her phone rang.”
“Lemme guess,” Nate said dryly. “Not her dentist.”
“‘Matt ❤️,’” Jack said, bitterly. “Heart and everything.”
“Oof.”
“She got all flustered when I asked. Said he was a guy from Pasco. A ‘friend.’” Jack’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “I was dumb enough to believe it, too. That she came back and maybe—just maybe—this meant something. But of course there’s a guy. Of course she’s got a life somewhere else.”
Nate was quiet for a second, then said, “Man, she’s allowed to have a life. It’s been six years.”
Jack whipped around. “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”
“Yours? Hers? Both of you?”
Jack scowled. “She’s the one who left.”
“You’re the one who told her to.”
Jack opened his mouth and then closed it again, jaw grinding.
“She was at your parents’ funeral, Jack.”
He looked up, startled. “What?”
“She stood in the back. Didn’t say a word to anybody, but she was there. I saw her.”
Jack stared at him, expression unreadable.
“Didn’t think you'd want to know back then,” Nate added. “But maybe you need to hear it now. Just because she left doesn’t mean she didn’t care. People screw things up, man. Doesn’t mean they don’t feel the fallout.”
Jack dropped into a deck chair like the fight had been knocked clean out of him. He sat in silence, staring out at the street.
“Still hurts like hell,” he muttered.
“I’m not saying it shouldn’t,” Nate said. “I’m saying maybe don’t let it stop you from figuring out what you want now.”
- Writer
