Almost, Always

Chapter 3: The Edge Of Almost

The town fair was already in full swing by the time Elena and Nathan arrived.

Not that they had planned to come together.

Elena had been dragged here by her childhood friend, Lily, who insisted that she “needed to experience something other than her own misery.” Nathan, she suspected, had simply shown up because he always did—because despite everything, he was still Nathan.

The fairgrounds smelled like caramel apples and fried dough, laughter spilling through the cool evening air. Children ran between booths, teenagers loitered by the Ferris wheel, and somewhere in the distance, the unmistakable sound of a country song played.

Elena pulled her jacket tighter around herself, watching as Lily disappeared into the crowd, leaving her standing awkwardly near the ring toss game.

That’s when she saw him.

Not Nathan.

Ethan.

He was with Julia, one hand resting casually on her lower back, his head tilted toward hers as she whispered something in his ear.

Elena’s stomach twisted—because no matter how much she told herself it didn’t matter, it still did.

And then, as if sensing her, Ethan turned.

Their eyes met.

For a second—just a second—something flickered across his face. A ghost of familiarity.

Then Julia tugged his arm, and the moment was gone.

Elena let out a slow breath, willing the tightness in her chest to disappear.

“You okay?”

She startled slightly, turning to find Nathan standing beside her, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

She hadn’t even noticed him approach.

“Fine,” she lied.

Nathan followed her gaze toward Ethan and Julia, his expression unreadable.

“You sure about that?”

Elena forced a smile, shifting her weight. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Nathan studied her for a long moment—too long—before sighing and stepping closer.

“Come on,” he said, nudging her lightly. “Let’s go.”

She frowned. “Go where?”

He tilted his head toward the Ferris wheel.

Her stomach dipped. “Absolutely not.”

Nathan grinned, the kind that always meant trouble. “Too late, already decided.”

Before she could protest, he was already handing tickets to the ride operator, pulling her toward the waiting carriage.

“Nathan,” she warned.

“Relax.” He smirked, climbing in and patting the seat beside him. “It’s just a ride.”

Elena huffed but followed, because arguing with Nathan was a battle she never won.

The carriage lifted off the ground, rising higher and higher until the town stretched below them in twinkling lights and shadowed streets.

Elena exhaled slowly, gripping the safety bar. “You’re insufferable.”

Nathan chuckled, his arm draping lazily over the back of the seat. “And yet, here you are.”

Silence settled between them as they climbed to the very top, the ride pausing for just a moment.

The town looked different from up here. Smaller. Less complicated.

Elena sighed. “I thought it would feel different, being back.”

Nathan glanced at her. “And does it?”

She hesitated. “Not really.”

“Maybe that’s because you haven’t let it.”

She turned to him, narrowing her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nathan shrugged, but there was something knowing in his gaze. “You came back for a wedding, but it’s not really about Ethan, is it?”

Elena opened her mouth to argue—but the words didn’t come.

Because the truth was, she didn’t know why she had come back.

Or maybe, she did.

And maybe, he did too.

Nathan smirked, nudging her knee with his. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips twitched despite herself.

The Ferris wheel jolted, beginning its descent, and Nathan stretched, looking out over the town.

“You know what your problem is?” he mused.

Elena raised an eyebrow. “Please, enlighten me.”

Nathan leaned in slightly, voice lower now. “You keep waiting for things to change, but maybe… you’re the one who has to change first.”

Her breath caught—because damn it, he wasn’t wrong.

And he knew it.

But before she could respond, the ride ended, the moment slipping between them like sand through fingers.

Nathan stood, offering his hand.

Elena hesitated—then took it.

And for the first time since coming back, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t here for Ethan at all.

Maybe she was here for something else entirely.

Something she wasn’t ready to name.

Not yet.

But almost.

[still the same day]

The walk back from the fair was quiet. Not awkward—just… full.

Elena’s thoughts swirled, tangled somewhere between Nathan’s words and the way his hand had felt in hers. He hadn’t held on too long, hadn’t let go too quickly. But she had felt it—the weight of something neither of them had acknowledged.

Not then.

Not now.

Beside her, Nathan walked with his hands in his pockets, his long strides easy and unhurried. He didn’t fill the silence with unnecessary words. He never had.

That was the thing about Nathan. He always let her come to her own conclusions.

Which was exactly why she found herself saying, “I thought I’d be over it by now.”

Nathan didn’t ask what. He just hummed slightly, glancing at her. “And you’re not?”

Elena sighed, kicking a stray pebble along the pavement. “Apparently not.”

Nathan was quiet for a beat. Then—“Maybe that’s because you’re not grieving Ethan. You’re grieving the idea of him.”

She stopped walking.

Nathan took two more steps before realizing, then turned to face her, his expression unreadable in the dim glow of the streetlights.

“The idea of him?” she repeated, folding her arms.

He nodded. “The version of him you loved. The one you thought you’d end up with. That’s who you’re still holding onto. Not him—just the story you told yourself.”

Elena swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. “That’s not—”

But she couldn’t finish the sentence.

Because it was true.

She had spent so long convincing herself that Ethan had been the one. That leaving had been the only choice. That coming back would be some kind of closure.

But the truth was, Ethan had moved on long before she ever left.

And now, standing here in the middle of a quiet street with Nathan Calloway looking at her like he saw her—the version of her that had nothing to do with Ethan—she realized something else.

Maybe she had been wrong about who she was running from.

She inhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I hate when you do that.”

Nathan smirked. “Do what?”

“Say things that make too much sense.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. Not enough to touch—but enough that she could feel the warmth of him.

“Guess you’ll have to get used to it,” he murmured.

Elena’s heart skipped.

For a second, she thought—this is it. This is the moment he says something, does something, makes this thing between them real.

But he didn’t.

And neither did she.

Instead, he just exhaled, tilting his head toward the road. “Come on, before your mom thinks I kidn*pped you.”

The moment unraveled, slipping between them like it always did. Like it always had.

And Elena?

She let it.

Because that’s what she and Nathan did.

They existed on the edge of almost.

And neither of them had ever been brave enough to take the step forward.

Not yet.

But maybe.

Maybe someday.

Maybe soon.