Cade:
The message came through while I was still sitting on the back porch, staring into the same mug of cold coffee I’d been holding for an hour.
Riley: We need to talk.
Four words that felt so sharp and final. The kind of words that made the world tilt a little.
The air outside was heavy — humid enough to cling to my skin, thick with the promise of rain. Somewhere across the yard, a wind chime swayed, its sound too soft for the way my chest felt. I reread the message three times, as if repetition could change the meaning.
It didn’t.
I could still taste her on my tongue. Still feel the way her fingers had trembled against my skin when she’d whispered my name like it meant something, like I had meant something to her. Every rational part of me said she was right to run, right to put
