Author: admin

"Sometimes accidents are just meaningless mistakes, Noah. Everyone messes up."
He slid his sunglasses off, revealing those warm golden-brown irises that had always seen straight through every lie and wall she built around herself. "I remember telling you those exact same words after… that day with the car."
She shot him a dry, bitter smile, and he let out a hollow, joyless laugh. "It doesn’t fix anything, does it? Empty, meaningless comfort phrases."
"Nope."
They stood locked in each other’s gaze, the space between them thick with old grudges, lingering hurt, and for Olive, a mountain of unspoken regrets.
"You’re not the same girl I knew," he said quietly.
"If you mean I traded thrifted hand-me-downs for nicer clothes, then yeah, I’ve changed."
He shook his head firmly. "It’s never been about what you wear. None of the people who loved you cared about your outfits. You’ve shifted somewhere deeper," he repeated. "On the inside."
"I grew up."
"Funny, you still can’t avoid nearly running people over, so—"
She narrowed her eyes sharply. "That’s not funny in the slightest."
"I wasn’t joking. Did you bring this ‘Matt’ of yours along for the visit?"
"No. Did you come with anyone?"
"I don’t have anyone to bring."
She nodded stiffly, then forced a bright, hollow smile onto her lips. "Well, this chat’s been absolutely riveting, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be."
"Of course you do."
She spun halfway back toward the house, pausing. "Was that comment meant to carry some hidden jab?"
"When things get hard, you always run off."
The sting of his words hit hard because they were entirely true. She drew in a shaky deep breath, searching for calm that refused to settle in her chest—not with a heavy, football-sized lump clogging her throat. This man had shaped every critical part of her teenage years, his whole family wrapping her up in their care and giving her the sense of belonging she’d spent her whole life craving. But the cold, guarded look in his eyes reminded her she’d thrown all that away herself. Still, the question slipped out before she could hold it back.
"Have you ever wondered what things could be like between us now, as fully grown adults?"
He studied her for a long, heavy beat of silence. "Some chapters of the past are better left closed and untouched."
She plastered on another thin, fake smile. "That’s one thing we can finally agree on."

Noah watched Olive stride toward the car she’d nearly crashed into him moments earlier. He prided himself on adapting to unexpected, unpredictable situations—but his judgment always went haywire around her. Or maybe it was the way her dress clung to her stunning, curvy figure, scrambling every logical thought in his head.
Olive Porter had undeniably grown into a beautiful, confident woman.
He forced himself to refocus. His family needed him right now, and the last thing he could afford was a distraction. Unfortunately, the biggest distraction of his life was currently heaving a large duffel bag out of her car trunk—and turning straight toward Katie’s house.
“What are you doing?”
Olive didn’t answer, staggering slightly under the heavy weight of her bag. Noah stepped forward without thinking, took the duffel from her hands, and slung it over his shoulder.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she snapped.
Typical. The old Olive would’ve rather collapsed than accept a favor from him. But he didn’t know the new Olive at all. She’d vanished from his life when he’d needed her most, and he’d long since moved on—or at least, he’d tried to.
They engaged in a silent tug-of-war over the duffel bag. “Why are you heading for my mom’s house like you’re planning to stay?” Noah pressed.
“Because I am,” she panted, struggling to steady her balance. “Let go.”
Noah released the bag instantly, and she stumbled backward, nearly falling flat on her rear. “Sorry,” he muttered quickly.
She shot him a blazing, irritated look. “Katie insisted I stay here.”
Noah had zero desire to share a roof with this woman. He’d once given her his whole heart, and she’d shattered it completely. “Terrible idea.”
“You think?” Olive sighed heavily. “Gram’s renting out her spare rooms. And this is Katie’s house now, remember? For the record, I originally planned to book a hotel.”
Noah tilted his head back with a groan and stared up at the sky. After Katie married Joe and welcomed their son Joey, the couple had built their mother a brand-new apartment above the garage. Freed from the responsibilities of the main house, their mom had spent her days traveling with friends and enjoying retirement. She’d even been on a month-long trip to Portugal when Noah and Joe got into their devastating car accident. She’d rushed home immediately, marking the first time in years the whole family had been back together in Sunrise Cove.
Noah was the one who’d been away the longest. He owned a home on the south shore, a small studio apartment in Yosemite, and frequently worked out of the National Park Service headquarters in D.C. Joe, whose rank and workload were far lighter than Noah’s, either crashed on Noah’s Yosemite couch or commuted from Sunrise Cove whenever he had free time.
Olive eyed him suspiciously. “Where are you staying?”
Noah’s gaze darted to the living room window, where Katie was pressed up against the glass, blatantly spying on them. She winced the second she was caught and quickly yanked the blinds shut.
Olive huffed a laugh beside him. “Busybody.”
“Wait here a second,” Noah said, striding up the front porch steps.
Holmes the hound jolted awake with a loud snort, his long ears rumpled and messy. At the sight of Noah, he tilted his head back and let out a warm, mournful yet joyful howl, his tail thumping wildly against the floor.
Noah smiled and crouched down to pet the old dog. Holmes had earned his name because, much like Sherlock, he could sniff out anything—mostly food, but it still counted. The seventy-pound hound had a belly that dragged the floor, ears that dangled past his paws, a constant drooling habit, and gas powerful enough to clear a room. Left alone, he’d howl so loud the windows rattled. His eyesight had faded with age, but his loyalty to his family was unshakable. He’d even fallen into a months-long depression earlier that year after the family’s fifteen-year-old cat, Sassy Pants, passed away.
Noah rubbed his belly gently. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, standing up to grab the door handle—only to collide with Olive reaching for the same spot.
He glanced at her dryly. “Still terrible at following directions, I see.”
“And you’re still just as bossy as ever,” she retorted. She turned to Holmes, giving him a softer, sweeter smile than she’d ever offered Noah. “Hey, boy.” Neither of them released the door handle, sparking another quiet struggle. They were still jostling for control when the door swung open suddenly, sending both of them tumbling inside the house.
Olive jumped to her feet so fast she nearly stumbled again. Noah took his time standing, ignoring the sharp, throbbing pain in his leg and masking any sign of weakness from view.
Katie clapped her hands in pure delight. “I’ve been waiting for this day for years.”
Noah straightened his posture. “So you admit this was all planned.”
Katie pressed her lips tightly together. Everyone knew she was the worst liar alive; whenever she was cornered, she’d clamp her mouth shut to keep the truth from spilling out.
Olive stepped around Noah and pulled Katie into a hug. As always, Katie froze completely at physical contact, going rigid as a corpse. Her phone and glasses slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor. “My phone. My glasses,” she said flatly, waiting impatiently for the hug to end.
Amused, Olive pulled back. “Sorry, it’s been too long.”
“It’s never too long for hugs,” Katie argued.
Olive laughed. “Fair enough. How’s this?” She leaned in and planted a loud, playful kiss on Katie’s cheek.
Katie squirmed in disgust. “Worse. So much worse.”
Noah fixed his sister with a long, serious stare.
“Look,” Katie said softly, her tone shifting. “My husband’s in a coma, my son’s growing up without his dad, and I’m barely holding my life together. On the outside, I look calm and collected, but inside I’m a total mess. Cut me some slack for wanting my brother and my best friend under the same roof. Don’t be mad at me.”
“We’re not mad,” Olive said immediately, squeezing Katie’s hand.
Noah couldn’t be mad—not when he was the reason Joe was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He’d been trained in evasive driving. He should’ve controlled the car. He should’ve seen the accident coming. Instead, he’d been bickering with Joe over music choices. “Whatever you need,” he told Katie quietly. “I’m here for you.”
Olive nodded in agreement. “What he said.”
“What I need,” Katie said, voice thick with exhaustion, “is for the two people I love most to help me take care of Joey and be here for Joe.”
“Done,” Olive replied without hesitation.
“It won’t be easy,” Katie warned. “Just today, I said four things I never imagined I’d have to say. ‘Sorry I flushed your poop before you said goodbye.’ ‘If you stick your hands down your pants, you have to wash them with soap.’ And don’t forget ‘Don’t lick the dog’ and ‘Who ate the stick of butter I left on the counter?’ For the record, if Joey says he needs to go potty today, run—don’t walk.”
Olive covered her mouth, equal parts horrified and amused.
Katie pointed at her sharply, and Olive quickly composed herself.
Noah turned back to the door to grab Olive’s duffel bag, desperate to escape instead of staying trapped in the awkward tension. He craved nothing more than to jump in his truck and drive far away—all the way across the country, if possible.
“Wait—where are you going?” Katie demanded in her classic overbearing sister tone.
“Relax.”
Katie narrowed her eyes and turned to Olive. “Did you hear him? He said ‘relax’ like he’s the star of his own true-crime special.”
Noah rolled his eyes and dropped the duffel bag at Olive’s feet. “I’m heading to the hospital to sit with Joe for a while.” He planned to sit by his brother-in-law’s bed, hold his hand, and beg him to wake up.

Twenty minutes had passed, and Noah was parked beside Joe’s hospital bed on a rock-hard, agony-inducing chair—his butt was numb, his injured leg throbbed nonstop, but he paid it no mind. He leaned forward, fixing his gaze on Joe’s still face, and murmured, “Hey, man.”
No response.
He let out a heavy sigh. He’d visited every single day since the accident, yet the sight of Joe motionless still cut straight to his core. When awake, Joe was always on the move—smiling, laughing, cracking jokes, the life of every room. Seeing him completely silent and still shattered Noah’s composure every single time.
“Everything’s fine at home,” Noah said softly. “Joey walks around wearing your favorite Giants hat nonstop. Won’t take it off, even for bed.”
The room stayed silent, save for the constant whooshing and beeping of the medical machines keeping Joe alive. “Katie’s holding up like always—tough and stoic. She’s rearranged your closet three times already, and hate to break it to you, but she threw out all your old socks. Even your lucky basketball pair. I tried to save them, but the trash crew already picked everything up.”
He paused, forcing himself to focus on positive updates. “On the bright side? You’re always nagging her to check the oil on her beat-up old car that she refuses to replace. She’s finally doing it now. Every single day.”
Noah leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “She misses you so much.”
I miss you too. “I’m doing everything I can to take care of them, to make sure they have whatever they need.” But nothing’s enough. No one can replace you.
He swallowed hard, holding back the worst truths. He didn’t tell Joe how Joey cried for his dad every night and struggled to sleep. He didn’t admit that none of them were sleeping well, that the whole family was falling apart. “Oh, and some good news: you got called for jury duty last week. You dodged it, though—lucky you, stuck here napping.”
Still no reaction.
The doctors had warned them not to expect any movement, no flicker of the eyes, no squeeze of the hand. Hearing the warning was one thing; living through the endless silence was another entirely. Noah leaned forward again, voice tight with desperation.
“Listen, man. The truth is, I’m failing Katie. I’m failing Joey. Hell, I’m failing everyone. I need you to wake up—” He froze. Had Joe’s eyelid just twitched?
He stared intently for five long minutes, but the movement never repeated itself.
A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Sir? Visiting hours are over.”
Noah locked eyes with Joe’s unresponsive face. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He squeezed his best friend’s hand firmly.
Joe didn’t squeeze back.
Of course he didn’t. He was trapped in a coma.

Olive’s stomach growled loudly. She’d forgotten to pack her lunch, so she lined up in the school cafeteria to grab a meal. Yet when she patted down her pockets, she suddenly recalled she didn’t have a single dollar on her. “Hey, loser, the line’s moving. Keep up.” Olive turned around and came face-to-face with Cindy, her constant tormentor from both sophomore math and science classes. Cindy loved picking apart other people’s flaws, making Olive an easy, frequent target. Unwilling to admit she had no money for food, Olive stepped out of the line abruptly—only to crash straight into Noah, who was walking into the cafeteria. “Skipping lunch?” Noah almost never skipped meals. Olive knew it was pure self-preservation. His father held him to impossibly high standards, demanding nothing short of perfection, and his mother relied on him to be steady and dependable. Both of his parents poured all their energy into supporting Katie through school, and Olive refused to add any extra weight to Noah’s shoulders. “Not hungry,” she lied. “You’re always hungry,” Noah countered, seeing right through her. “Not today.” A faint, unreadable emotion flickered across Noah’s eyes before he held out his own packed lunch toward her. He’d run track early that morning and had a baseball game scheduled for later. He needed those calories far more than she ever could. “No, really, I’m fine,” Olive insisted, shaking her head. “Olive—” “I’ve got to go.” She bolted out of the cafeteria in a hurry. She could handle embarrassment, bullying, and hardship, but she could never stand being pitied by anyone—especially Noah. An hour later, right before her final class of the day, she opened her locker and found a wheat bread turkey sandwich paired with a crisp apple. For a split second, her throat tightened with gratitude, too choked up to eat. The moment passed quickly, though, when she peeled open the sandwich and spotted lettuce and tomatoes—her least favorite topping combination—and absolutely no mayo. Noah had always refused to eat anything he deemed “unclean” or overly processed. He had no idea what he was missing out on. Even so, her hunger won out. She devoured the entire sandwich and the apple in seconds. The warm, fuzzy feeling Noah’s kindness left her with was more than enough to make up for the lack of salty chips or sweet cookies in the impromptu meal.

"Funny, your sarcasm’s still intact even after this over-the-top city glow-up." Once they’d put enough distance between them to escape Gram’s hearing, Noah yanked his hand free from hers and stepped a full step back—like he needed space to fight the sudden, burning urge to either yank her close or snap her head off. She knew that urge like the back of her hand; they were both simmering with the same frustration. He planted his hands firmly on his hips, shaking his head once—slow, heavy, and laced with disappointment. So he was let down by her coming back? Too bad—she was just as disappointed in herself. At eighteen, she’d run off this hick town, a clumsy, unpolished country girl, forcing herself to learn to dress, talk, and walk like a put-together, confident woman who had her life all mapped out. That act had stuck like glue, even if it meant she’d sacrificed every bit of real happiness. Let’s be real—loneliness had been her only constant companion all these years. She stuffed the last crumb of cookie into her mouth. Priorities first, right? "Fine, you dragged me here—what’s on your mind?" His eyes narrowed to slits. "You’re actually asking that?" "Hey, if you wanted a cookie, you could’ve grabbed one from the tray over there." He just stared—no amusement, nothing. Fine, she knew he didn’t track her down to fight over cookies. But one question burned unsaid: how the hell had he gotten even hotter with each year that passed? Back in the day, his eyes would crinkle with amusement when she teased him, darkening with heat when they locked eyes. Now those mirrored sunglasses perched on his nose, hiding every flicker of thought or feeling. "This whole shitshow is your fault," she shot back. He folded his arms over his wide chest, tilting his head—wordlessly challenging her to back that up. "You never even looked both ways before crossing the street!" "You didn’t slow down your rental when you hit the crosswalk." She threw her hands up in that familiar frustrated move—she knew she was partially at fault, but she wasn’t about to admit it yet. "What the hell brings you back to Sunrise Cove?" he pressed. "Here to leave another breakup note?" She never meant to leave him that first note all those years ago—let alone write a second. She couldn’t bring herself to say the real reason she ran away; it would just rip open old wounds, and she’d already hurt him enough in this lifetime. Plus, he never once reached out to fix things after she left—so how upset could he really be? "I’m not here for you, Noah. I’m just here for your sister." "Thank God, ‘cause she needs you bad right now." A sharp twist of guilt coiled in her stomach. She’d barely visited in years. She was lucky Katie still considered her a best friend—lucky Noah even bothered talking to her. "How’re you holding up with everything that happened to Joe?" He dragged a palm roughly down his face, looking completely drained—like he was losing a war against exhaustion. "My brother-in-law and best friend is stuck in a coma, all ‘cause of a botched chase I led. What the hell do you think my state of mind is?"

Twenty minutes later, Noah sat beside Joe’s hospital bed on a stiff, uncomfortable chair that left his butt numb and his injured leg throbbing relentlessly. He ignored the pain, leaning forward to fix his gaze on Joe’s still face. “Hey, man.”
No response.
He exhaled heavily. He’d visited every single day since the accident, yet the sight of Joe motionless still shocked him to his core. Awake, Joe was always in constant motion—smiling, laughing, cracking jokes, the life of every room. Seeing him completely silent and still shattered Noah’s composure every time.
“Everything’s fine at home,” Noah said softly. “Joey walks around wearing your favorite Giants hat nonstop. Won’t take it off, even for bed.”
The room stayed silent, save for the constant whooshing and beeping of the medical machines keeping Joe alive. “Katie’s holding up like always—tough and stoic. She’s rearranged your closet three times already, and hate to break it to you, but she threw out all your old socks. Even your lucky basketball pair. I tried to save them, but the trash crew already picked everything up.”
He paused, forcing himself to focus on positive updates. “On the bright side? You’re always nagging her to check the oil on her beat-up old car that she refuses to replace. She’s finally doing it now. Every single day.”
Noah leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “She misses you so much.”
I miss you too. “I’m doing everything I can to take care of them, to make sure they have whatever they need.” But nothing’s enough. No one can replace you.
He swallowed hard, holding back the worst truths. He didn’t tell Joe how Joey cried for his dad every night and struggled to sleep. He didn’t admit that none of them were sleeping well, that the whole family was falling apart. “Oh, and some good news: you got called for jury duty last week. You dodged it, though—lucky you, stuck here napping.”
Still no reaction.
The doctors had warned them not to expect any movement, no flicker of the eyes, no squeeze of the hand. Hearing the warning was one thing; living through the endless silence was another entirely. Noah leaned forward again, voice tight with desperation.
“Listen, man. The truth is, I’m failing Katie. I’m failing Joey. Hell, I’m failing everyone. I need you to wake up—” He froze. Had Joe’s eyelid just twitched?
He stared intently for five long minutes, but the movement never repeated itself.
A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Sir? Visiting hours are over.”
Noah locked eyes with Joe’s unresponsive face. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He squeezed his best friend’s hand firmly.
Joe didn’t squeeze back.
Of course he didn’t. He was trapped in a coma.

Noah watched Olive stride toward the car she’d nearly crashed into him moments earlier. He prided himself on adapting to unexpected, unpredictable situations—but his judgment always went haywire around her. Or maybe it was the way her dress clung to her stunning, curvy figure, scrambling every logical thought in his head.
Olive Porter had undeniably grown into a beautiful, confident woman.
He forced himself to refocus. His family needed him right now, and the last thing he could afford was a distraction. Unfortunately, the biggest distraction of his life was currently heaving a large duffel bag out of her car trunk—and turning straight toward Katie’s house.
“What are you doing?”
Olive didn’t answer, staggering slightly under the heavy weight of her bag. Noah stepped forward without thinking, took the duffel from her hands, and slung it over his shoulder.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she snapped.
Typical. The old Olive would’ve rather collapsed than accept a favor from him. But he didn’t know the new Olive at all. She’d vanished from his life when he’d needed her most, and he’d long since moved on—or at least, he’d tried to.
They engaged in a silent tug-of-war over the duffel bag. “Why are you heading for my mom’s house like you’re planning to stay?” Noah pressed.
“Because I am,” she panted, struggling to steady her balance. “Let go.”
Noah released the bag instantly, and she stumbled backward, nearly falling flat on her rear. “Sorry,” he muttered quickly.
She shot him a blazing, irritated look. “Katie insisted I stay here.”
Noah had zero desire to share a roof with this woman. He’d once given her his whole heart, and she’d shattered it completely. “Terrible idea.”
“You think?” Olive sighed heavily. “Gram’s renting out her spare rooms. And this is Katie’s house now, remember? For the record, I originally planned to book a hotel.”
Noah tilted his head back with a groan and stared up at the sky. After Katie married Joe and welcomed their son Joey, the couple had built their mother a brand-new apartment above the garage. Freed from the responsibilities of the main house, their mom had spent her days traveling with friends and enjoying retirement. She’d even been on a month-long trip to Portugal when Noah and Joe got into their devastating car accident. She’d rushed home immediately, marking the first time in years the whole family had been back together in Sunrise Cove.
Noah was the one who’d been away the longest. He owned a home on the south shore, a small studio apartment in Yosemite, and frequently worked out of the National Park Service headquarters in D.C. Joe, whose rank and workload were far lighter than Noah’s, either crashed on Noah’s Yosemite couch or commuted from Sunrise Cove whenever he had free time.
Olive eyed him suspiciously. “Where are you staying?”
Noah’s gaze darted to the living room window, where Katie was pressed up against the glass, blatantly spying on them. She winced the second she was caught and quickly yanked the blinds shut.
Olive huffed a laugh beside him. “Busybody.”
“Wait here a second,” Noah said, striding up the front porch steps.
Holmes the hound jolted awake with a loud snort, his long ears rumpled and messy. At the sight of Noah, he tilted his head back and let out a warm, mournful yet joyful howl, his tail thumping wildly against the floor.
Noah smiled and crouched down to pet the old dog. Holmes had earned his name because, much like Sherlock, he could sniff out anything—mostly food, but it still counted. The seventy-pound hound had a belly that dragged the floor, ears that dangled past his paws, a constant drooling habit, and gas powerful enough to clear a room. Left alone, he’d howl so loud the windows rattled. His eyesight had faded with age, but his loyalty to his family was unshakable. He’d even fallen into a months-long depression earlier that year after the family’s fifteen-year-old cat, Sassy Pants, passed away.
Noah rubbed his belly gently. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, standing up to grab the door handle—only to collide with Olive reaching for the same spot.
He glanced at her dryly. “Still terrible at following directions, I see.”
“And you’re still just as bossy as ever,” she retorted. She turned to Holmes, giving him a softer, sweeter smile than she’d ever offered Noah. “Hey, boy.” Neither of them released the door handle, sparking another quiet struggle. They were still jostling for control when the door swung open suddenly, sending both of them tumbling inside the house.
Olive jumped to her feet so fast she nearly stumbled again. Noah took his time standing, ignoring the sharp, throbbing pain in his leg and masking any sign of weakness from view.
Katie clapped her hands in pure delight. “I’ve been waiting for this day for years.”
Noah straightened his posture. “So you admit this was all planned.”
Katie pressed her lips tightly together. Everyone knew she was the worst liar alive; whenever she was cornered, she’d clamp her mouth shut to keep the truth from spilling out.
Olive stepped around Noah and pulled Katie into a hug. As always, Katie froze completely at physical contact, going rigid as a corpse. Her phone and glasses slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor. “My phone. My glasses,” she said flatly, waiting impatiently for the hug to end.
Amused, Olive pulled back. “Sorry, it’s been too long.”
“It’s never too long for hugs,” Katie argued.
Olive laughed. “Fair enough. How’s this?” She leaned in and planted a loud, playful kiss on Katie’s cheek.
Katie squirmed in disgust. “Worse. So much worse.”
Noah fixed his sister with a long, serious stare.
“Look,” Katie said softly, her tone shifting. “My husband’s in a coma, my son’s growing up without his dad, and I’m barely holding my life together. On the outside, I look calm and collected, but inside I’m a total mess. Cut me some slack for wanting my brother and my best friend under the same roof. Don’t be mad at me.”
“We’re not mad,” Olive said immediately, squeezing Katie’s hand.
Noah couldn’t be mad—not when he was the reason Joe was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He’d been trained in evasive driving. He should’ve controlled the car. He should’ve seen the accident coming. Instead, he’d been bickering with Joe over music choices. “Whatever you need,” he told Katie quietly. “I’m here for you.”
Olive nodded in agreement. “What he said.”
“What I need,” Katie said, voice thick with exhaustion, “is for the two people I love most to help me take care of Joey and be here for Joe.”
“Done,” Olive replied without hesitation.
“It won’t be easy,” Katie warned. “Just today, I said four things I never imagined I’d have to say. ‘Sorry I flushed your poop before you said goodbye.’ ‘If you stick your hands down your pants, you have to wash them with soap.’ And don’t forget ‘Don’t lick the dog’ and ‘Who ate the stick of butter I left on the counter?’ For the record, if Joey says he needs to go potty today, run—don’t walk.”
Olive covered her mouth, equal parts horrified and amused.
Katie pointed at her sharply, and Olive quickly composed herself.
Noah turned back to the door to grab Olive’s duffel bag, desperate to escape instead of staying trapped in the awkward tension. He craved nothing more than to jump in his truck and drive far away—all the way across the country, if possible.
“Wait—where are you going?” Katie demanded in her classic overbearing sister tone.
“Relax.”
Katie narrowed her eyes and turned to Olive. “Did you hear him? He said ‘relax’ like he’s the star of his own true-crime special.”
Noah rolled his eyes and dropped the duffel bag at Olive’s feet. “I’m heading to the hospital to sit with Joe for a while.” He planned to sit by his brother-in-law’s bed, hold his hand, and beg him to wake up.
He caught Olive staring at him, her expression guarded and unreadable—only a faint trace of irritation visible, likely at having to be in the same room as him. The feeling was mutual.
He nodded at her curtly, pressed a quick kiss to Katie’s head, and climbed into his truck. He rolled the windows down, letting the sharp, frigid mountain spring air blast through the cab, hoping it would clear his racing thoughts. It didn’t work.

Olive’s stomach growled loudly. She’d forgotten to pack her lunch, so she lined up in the school cafeteria to grab a meal. Yet when she patted down her pockets, she suddenly recalled she didn’t have a single dollar on her.
“Hey, loser, the line’s moving. Keep up.”
Olive turned around and came face-to-face with Cindy, her constant tormentor from both sophomore math and science classes. Cindy loved picking apart other people’s flaws, making Olive an easy, frequent target. Unwilling to admit she had no money for food, Olive stepped out of the line abruptly—only to crash straight into Noah, who was walking into the cafeteria.
“Skipping lunch?”
Noah almost never skipped meals. Olive knew it was pure self-preservation. His father held him to impossibly high standards, demanding nothing short of perfection, and his mother relied on him to be steady and dependable. Both of his parents poured all their energy into supporting Katie through school, and Olive refused to add any extra weight to Noah’s shoulders.
“Not hungry,” she lied.
“You’re always hungry,” Noah countered, seeing right through her.
“Not today.”
A faint, unreadable emotion flickered across Noah’s eyes before he held out his own packed lunch toward her.
He’d run track early that morning and had a baseball game scheduled for later. He needed those calories far more than she ever could. “No, really, I’m fine,” Olive insisted, shaking her head.
“Olive—”
“I’ve got to go.” She bolted out of the cafeteria in a hurry. She could handle embarrassment, bullying, and hardship, but she could never stand being pitied by anyone—especially Noah.
An hour later, right before her final class of the day, she opened her locker and found a wheat bread turkey sandwich paired with a crisp apple. For a split second, her throat tightened with gratitude, too choked up to eat. The moment passed quickly, though, when she peeled open the sandwich and spotted lettuce and tomatoes—her least favorite topping combination—and absolutely no mayo. Noah had always refused to eat anything he deemed “unclean” or overly processed.
He had no idea what he was missing out on.
Even so, her hunger won out. She devoured the entire sandwich and the apple in seconds. The warm, fuzzy feeling Noah’s kindness left her with was more than enough to make up for the lack of salty chips or sweet cookies in the impromptu meal.

“Sometimes accidents are just meaningless mistakes, Noah. Everyone messes up.”
He slid his sunglasses off, revealing those warm golden-brown irises that had always seen straight through every lie and wall she built around herself. “I remember telling you those exact same words after… that day with the car.”
She shot him a dry, bitter smile, and he let out a hollow, joyless laugh. “It doesn’t fix anything, does it? Empty, meaningless comfort phrases.”
“Nope.”
They stood locked in each other’s gaze, the space between them thick with old grudges, lingering hurt, and for Olive, a mountain of unspoken regrets.
“You’re not the same girl I knew,” he said quietly.
“If you mean I traded thrifted hand-me-downs for nicer clothes, then yeah, I’ve changed.”
He shook his head firmly. “It’s never been about what you wear. None of the people who loved you cared about your outfits. You’ve shifted somewhere deeper,” he repeated. “On the inside.”
“I grew up.”
“Funny, you still can’t avoid nearly running people over, so—”
She narrowed her eyes sharply. “That’s not funny in the slightest.”
“I wasn’t joking. Did you bring this ‘Matt’ of yours along for the visit?”
“No. Did you come with anyone?”
“I don’t have anyone to bring.”
She nodded stiffly, then forced a bright, hollow smile onto her lips. “Well, this chat’s been absolutely riveting, but I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”
“Of course you do.”
She spun halfway back toward the house, pausing. “Was that comment meant to carry some hidden jab?”
“When things get hard, you always run off.”
The sting of his words hit hard because they were entirely true. She drew in a shaky deep breath, searching for calm that refused to settle in her chest—not with a heavy, football-sized lump clogging her throat. This man had shaped every critical part of her teenage years, his whole family wrapping her up in their care and giving her the sense of belonging she’d spent her whole life craving. But the cold, guarded look in his eyes reminded her she’d thrown all that away herself. Still, the question slipped out before she could hold it back.
“Have you ever wondered what things could be like between us now, as fully grown adults?”
He studied her for a long, heavy beat of silence. “Some chapters of the past are better left closed and untouched.”
She plastered on another thin, fake smile. “That’s one thing we can finally agree on.”

“Good to hear your sarcasm survived the fancy new city makeover.” Once they’d wandered far enough out of Gram’s earshot, Noah abruptly released her hand and stepped a full pace back, as if putting distance between them to fight the sudden urge to grab her or snap at her.
She knew exactly that urge all too well—they were both equally riled up.
He planted his hands firm on his hips and shook his head once, slow and disappointed.
So he was let down by her return. Tough luck, because she was equally disappointed in herself. She’d left this town at eighteen as a bumbling, unpolished country girl, forcing herself to learn how to dress, speak, and carry herself like a refined, self-assured woman who had her life figured out. The act had stuck, even if she’d sacrificed any real personal happiness along the way. If she was honest, loneliness had been her only consistent partner all these years. She crammed the last crumb of cookie into her mouth. Priorities came first, after all. “Alright, what did you drag me over here to discuss?”
His eyes narrowed sharply. “Are you genuinely asking that?”
“Hey, if you’d wanted a cookie, you could’ve helped yourself to the tray back there.”
He simply stared at her, unamused.
Fine, she knew he hadn’t tracked her down to argue over baked goods. But one question lingered unspoken: how had he somehow grown even more handsome with every passing year? Once, his eyes would soften with amusement when she teased him, darkening with heat when attraction sparked between them. Now his mirrored sunglasses sat perched over his eyes, hiding every flicker of thought or feeling beneath. “This whole mess was your fault, you know,” she argued.
He folded his arms across his broad chest and tilted his head, silently inviting her to explain her logic.
“You never checked both directions before stepping into the road!”
“You didn’t slow your rental car as you approached the crosswalk.”
She threw her hands up in that familiar frustrated gesture—she knew she carried partial blame, but she wasn’t ready to own up to it yet.
“What even brings you back to Sunrise Cove?” he pressed. “Here to drop off another breakup note?”
She’d never intended to leave him the first one all those years ago, let alone draft a second. She couldn’t bear to spell out the real reason she’d fled town, either; it would only reopen old wounds for him, and she’d already hurt him more than enough in one lifetime. Besides, he’d never once reached out to talk things through after she left, so how upset could he really have been? “This trip isn’t all about you, Noah. I’m only here to support your sister.”
“Thank God for that, because she desperately needs you right now.”
A sharp twist of guilt knotted her stomach. She’d barely visited over the years. She was lucky Katie still counted her as a best friend, lucky Noah even bothered speaking to her at all. “How are you holding up through everything that’s happened with Joe?”
He dragged one palm roughly down his face, looking utterly drained, like he was losing a battle against exhaustion. “My brother-in-law and closest friend is stuck in a coma, all because of a botched pursuit I led. What do you think my state of mind is?”