Chapter 8
Saturday arrived, and Chase was over at my house. We’d agreed to use the day to talk — really talk — about anything we’d been holding back. I thought I was ready for it, but the closer we got to the conversation, the more nervous I became. Something in my chest felt tight, like I already knew this wasn’t going to be simple.
We sat outside in the backyard, lounging on the patio chairs. The air felt still, heavy with everything we weren’t saying. Chase broke the silence first.
“Are you okay?” He asked, worried, tightening his voice. He looked like he was bracing for something, like he thought he’d already messed up.
It wasn’t that he was doing something wrong — it was that he was hiding something. And I wasn’t innocent either. I had my own mistakes to own up to. That was why we were here.
“I’m okay,” I said. “But I want us both to open up about whatever we haven’t been saying. I have things I need to tell you… and I know you probably do too.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he fidgeted with his hands before looking up at me. He was trying to be brave, but I could see the anxiety underneath. He’d been avoiding something for a while — pushing it aside, pretending it didn’t matter. But it did. And if we wanted this relationship to last, we needed honesty.
I leaned back in my chair and took a breath.
“There are some things I’ve done when we weren’t together,” I said quietly. “And I regret them. I stopped myself before it went too far, but… I still did it. And I’ve also noticed you acting strange lately, and I want to know why.”
Concern flickered across his face. “What have you been doing when I’m not with you?”
My anxiety spiked, but I forced myself to stay calm. I wasn’t going to run from this.
“I started talking to another guy on Tinder,” I said. “We were getting to know each other, texting… but I stopped before it went too far. I told him the truth — that I’m in a relationship with you.”
His expression tightened. “You went behind my back and went back there?”
I felt panic rising in my chest, but I kept my voice steady. “I did. And I know I shouldn’t have. I don’t know why I did it, but I promise it won’t happen again. I ended things with him right after and told him about you. I disabled my account and deleted the app. Here — I’ll show you.”
I handed him my phone. He scrolled through the messages, and jaw tense.
“Is this it?” He asked.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s all of it.”
He exhaled slowly, then nodded. “As long as you won’t do it again.”
“It won’t happen again,” I said firmly.
He looked at me, searching my face. “Are you not happy with me? Or what?”
“I am happy with you,” I said. “But I need you to be honest with me too. I want this relationship to last.”
“I want that too,” he said.
Then he asked something I didn’t expect.
“What do you think about an open relationship?”
I stared at him. “Why are you asking that? I don’t like that idea at all. Things can go horribly wrong, especially if one person says yes and the other says no.”
He shrugged lightly. “It can’t hurt to try it out one day, right?”
“I’m not interested in that, Chase. Honestly, it’s a stupid idea. I’m sorry if that offends you.”
“You didn’t offend me,” he said. “It was just a question. Something I wanted to bring up. I’ll ask again eventually and see if you change your mind.”
“There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind,” I said, scoffing. “So good luck with that.”
He didn’t push it further, but the tension lingered.
Then he shifted again.
“So… what happened between you and your ex?” He asked.
I looked at him sharply. “Why do you want to know that?”
He hesitated. “Last time I was at your house… when you went to the bathroom… I, uh… I looked through your phone. I wanted to see if you were talking to another guy. I saw someone named Isaac pop up. When I heard you coming back, I put your phone down and acted normal.”
“What?” I said, stunned. “You could’ve asked me. And he’s the one who texted me that day — I kept it short and told him I was with you.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I should’ve asked. I’m sorry. But… what happened between you two?”
“I caught him cheating on me with another girl at school,” I said. “He tried to brush it off, but I ended things on the spot.”
“That’s it?” He asked.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s what happened.”
“What was he like?”
I rolled my eyes. “Why does that matter? It’s in the past.”
“Because I want to make sure, I’m better than your last relationship.”
It felt strange that he wanted details, but I let it go. It didn’t matter anymore.
We talked a little longer, letting the tension slowly fade. But inside, something still felt unsettled. I loved him — I truly did — and I knew I’d made mistakes. So had he. But something in me whispered that there was more he wasn’t saying. Something he’d only admit if I confessed first. Something he’d never bring up on his own.
I wanted to trust him. Maybe I already did. Maybe I didn’t. I was trying — really trying — to show that I did.
But trust wasn’t supposed to feel this heavy.
Eventually, we both needed a break from the seriousness, so we went inside, turned on the big TV, and played video games — anything to distract ourselves and feel normal again.
For now, that was enough.