Chapter 16
I swear everything shifts when you’re eighteen. Life throws twists, turns, and challenges at you — especially in relationships. But that’s how you learn. From mistakes. From heartbreak. From the things you never saw coming.
Right now, I’m at one of Chase’s friend’s houses on a Thursday afternoon. The guys are playing video games, yelling at the screen, laughing, and trash‐talking each other. I sit beside Chase, watching, chiming in when I feel like it.
Nicholas glances over at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m okay.”
He studies me for a second, like he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push. “Alright. Just wanted to check in. And… don’t ever hesitate to talk to any of us. Not just Chase.”
I rub my eyes, trying to hide how tired I feel. “I appreciate the support.”
Chase stands up. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Be right back.”
We hear the door shut behind him.
I turned to Finn. “Hey… have you noticed anything strange about Chase?”
He looks at me, serious now. “Not until recently. Why?”
My eyebrow lifts. “Not until recently? Is there something he isn’t telling me?”
He hesitates. “I’m not sure if I should tell you myself… or let him tell you.”
My stomach drops. “Oh god. I don’t know if I want to know now… but I do at the same time.”
“That’s up to you,” he says gently. “No pressure.”
Before I can say anything else, Chase comes out of the bathroom and walks back into the room. He sits beside me and puts his arm around my shoulders. I force a smile.
“Welcome back.”
The guys exchange a look — the kind that says they know something I don’t. And suddenly I feel like I’m the only one in the room who’s in the dark.
It gets dark outside, and it’s time for me to head home. Chase walks with me.
“We’re gonna head out,” he tells the guys. “Thanks for having us.”
“See you later, you two,” they call out.
We grab our things and leave. On the walk to the bus stop, he asks, “Did you have a good time?”
“I did.”
He looks at me again, searching my face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay…”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
We keep walking, but my mind is spinning. I can feel it — he’s hiding something. And I want him to tell me. I want him to trust me. But deep down, I already know he won’t. Not yet.
When I finally get home, my phone buzzes.
Wanted to check in and make sure you got home safely.
I reply:
Just got home. How about you?
Same here.
I stare at the screen for a moment before typing:
Is there anything you’d like to tell me?
A pause. Then:
No… nothing comes to mind. Why?
Just curious. You’ve been acting strange lately.
I have? I guess I’ve been tired lately, that’s all. But I promise I’m not hiding anything if you’re wondering.
I swallow hard. I don’t believe him. But I don’t know what else to do.
Hmm… okay. As long as you’re sure. I’m heading to bed shortly. Night, love.
I plug my phone into the charger and set it down.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I love him. I want this relationship to last. I want to believe him. I want to trust him.
But now there’s the open‑relationship hanging over us — something I agreed to, even though I’m already regretting it.
Still… I tell myself to give it a chance.
Even if my heart is already bracing for impact.