Chapter 29

My eyes fluttered open,but my heart immediately sank with the weight of the inevitable. Today was the day we had to pack up and leave the cabin—and head back to Stillwater. I pulled the covers over my head, wishing the morning away, not wanting the endless summer days to end.

I listened to the shuffle of feet on the wooden floorboards outside my room as Parker and Boston began their morning—like it was just another day. The scent of coffee made its way into my room, but it couldn"t lure me out of bed—not today.

All I could think about was last night—the way it felt like Reese and I were the only two people in existence. I should have felt excited about getting back to school, about another new year, but my heart ached with uncertainty. Reese and I, whatever "we" were, would now be separated by a relentless two plus hour drive. And then there was the argument with Boston last night—that was still on my mind.

When I finally got out of bed, Parker was putting away dishes. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me—contemplating something.

"Hey, Chan, do you ever look at me and wonder if we had our own language as babies? Before we could actually talk?"

I rolled my eyes, allowing a small smile to break through despite the bittersweet morning.

"No, Parker, I look at you and wonder how you made it to adulthood."

His laughter eased the tightness in my chest, just for a moment.

"Hey, where's Boston?" I asked, uncertain if he'd even want to speak to me.

"He left early," he said with a shrug, his attention returning to the dishes. "Said he had an errand to run or something."

"Well I guess I'll get started on packing then." I sighed.

The click of my suitcase"s stubborn zipper made it all too real—the end of another summer. For a moment, I let my hand rest on the fabric, feeling the texture under my fingertips—a tactile goodbye to the place and the people that had transformed me. With a deep inhale, I hoisted the last piece of luggage, its weight a tangible reminder that we were officially driving back, there was no stopping it.

"Here we go," I whispered to myself, heading towards the front door, reluctantly rolling the suitcase behind me.

As I stepped onto the sun-drenched porch, he was standing there—leaning casually against the railing, almost looking exactly like he did the very first time I saw him at the clubhouse this summer. Only I saw him in an entirely different light now.

"Reese?" My voice broke the silence, and he lifted his gaze, those green eyes locking onto mine. They were usually the color of the foliage surrounding us—a vivid, living green, but today they seemed stormy, as if reflecting his mood.

"There's the girl I was looking for," He smiled, but it didn"t reach his eyes.

"Didn"t hear you pull up. Why didn"t you let me know you were here?" I asked, setting down the suitcase with more force than necessary, a pang of irritation breaking through my confusion.

He looked away, watching a leaf twirl down from an overhanging branch, taking its time before landing softly on the ground. "Just needed a moment to think," he said finally, his voice a low drawl that usually made my heart race. But now it just sounded distant, detached even.

"Think?" The word hung between us, as heavy as the humid air. Reese had always been an enigma, a puzzle I thought I had all summer to solve. But as the seconds passed by, I realized that maybe some puzzles weren"t meant to be completed. Not now, anyway.

Parker pulled his suitcase through the front door, making his way toward the car. He paused by Reese, who was still leaning against the porch railing.

"Hey bro," Parker greeted him.

"Hey," Reese pushed off from the rail with ease. "Let"s run it back next summer? Except we win that championship game next time."

Parker grinned, his eyes lit up with confidence. "You got it," he agreed, pausing by the trunk of the car. "I"m gonna need the school year to recover from those fastballs, though."

Reese laughed, a sound I really started to adore this summer. "Nah, you're a legend—you killed it this summer."

"Speaking of legends," Parker added as he opened the truck before tossing in his luggage, "you took that right hook like a champ." His voice was light but there was a glint of respect in his eyes. "And Boston already left early this morning, so I guess there won"t be any excitement before we go."

"Yeah, I know." Reese"s expression didn"t waver, but there was a subtle shift in his stance. "I saw him before he took off. And don't worry—no punches were thrown."

How did he catch Boston before he took off? Then it hit me, Reese must have been the errand that Boston had to make—but why would he go and see Reese?

"Ah gotcha," Parker nodded, tapping the roof of the car before heading back towards the cabin.

I leaned against the porch column, the wood rough beneath my palm. Something was off. His smile wasn't genuine, and his tone was different. Last night he was all charm and passion, and now... he's cold.

I saw Parker's trunk still open, waiting for my luggage—a jarring reminder of reality impatiently waiting. I glanced at the suitcase and then back at Reese, trying to read his expression.

"Anyway, what's going on?" I urged, attempting to keep my voice steady. I reached for the suitcase handle, but my hand hesitated, hoping for some sign from him, some indication that whatever thoughts were swirling in his head—he would share with me.

"Chandler..." Reese began, and I braced myself for the weight of his next words, ready to carry them with me along with my luggage, back to a place where summer seemed like a distant dream.

"Yes?" He didn't call me that often, a word I used to love on his lips when he would let it slip but now it was darkened by his energy. This didn't sound good.

His eyes, those deep pools of green that I"d found myself lost in time and again over the summer, met mine with a bittersweet intensity. "So," he began, his voice laced with sympathy, "This summer was amazing—more than amazing. I"m lucky you even gave me the time of day."

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. "Where is this going?" The question tumbled out, desperate to halt the impending words I sensed in his tone.

"Look," he continued, reaching for my hand. His touch, once electrifying, now felt like a goodbye. "I have a lot of shit I need to sort through here. You"re going back to college, a couple of hours away and you should enjoy it."

"I can enjoy it and still be with you," I interjected, the hurt spilling over despite my efforts to hide my emotions.

"Nah, I'd be holding you back," he said, squeezing my hand before letting go as if releasing me with it. "I'm going to be wrapped up in baseball during the school year and I have some stuff to sort out. The last thing I want is you waiting around for me, trying to do the long-distance thing."

I swallowed, hoping he couldn't hear the sound of my heart cracking open in two. "Reese, don"t do this." My plea was barely above a whisper, my voice breaking with the unspoken acknowledgment of him ending this, whatever this was. How could he do this after last night? Did it not mean anything to him?

His silhouette was framed by the daylight peaking through around him, the perfect picture of the untouchable boy I"d somehow touched—even if it was just for the summer. "I have to do this…I can't be selfish with you," he said, his gaze drifting to some far-off place. "But I need you to know that I care about you and that won't stop."

Each word was a hammer to my heart, chipping away at all the pieces until it was completely shattered. I fought to keep my face composed, to hold back my protest. But instead, I nodded, acknowledging his words. Something had changed between last night and now, and whatever it was, it had taken the Reese I knew with it.

"But last night, you were…" I paused, searching for the right word, "different."

"Different how?" His response was quick, too quick, and he averted his gaze, focusing on a point just over my shoulder.

"You were kind, sweet…" I trailed off, studying him. The way he held himself—shoulders tense, a forced casualness in his posture.

"So today, I"m what?" he pressed, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the railing. There was a defensiveness in his stance that hadn"t been there before.

"Closed off," I said softly. The air between us felt charged, the usual easy banter replaced by a strange tension.

"I'm not closed off, it's just the reality of the situation," Reese insisted, though the tight line of his mouth betrayed his words.

I thought I knew what heartbreak was. I had played characters—like Ophelia, and I had recited lines from many heartbroken damsels with a conviction that I believed I felt deep in my soul. In those moments on stage, I was convinced I felt their pain, that I understood how they felt. But standing here now, I was wrong——none of those roles came close. Not even close. This was heartbreak.

"Just don't forget me, okay? I'm sure I'll be back next summer." I managed to say. But I wasn't sure about next summer—if Boston would invite me to stay again, or if I"d have something else going on. Hopefully, I'd at least be able to make it to some of Parker's games.

"I'll be waiting," he replied, his smile not quite believable.

I wanted him to stop me and tell me he changed his mind but he didn't. The heavy suitcase dragged behind me with a sound that seemed to echo the finality of my summer. Parker was already tossing the last bags into the trunk, cursing under his breath trying to make them fit.

"Need a hand with that?" Willow"s voice broke through the calm as she tried to catch up with me, her smile was warm and comforting.

"Thanks, but I"ve got it," I said, mustering a smile for her.

"Are you sure?" Parker chimed in, straightening up and wiping his brow.

"I've got it," Reese assured them, grabbing my suitcase and closing the trunk with a thud.

Willow wrapped her arms around me in a hug that I needed more than she knew. "I can"t believe you"re leaving already," she murmured against my shoulder.

"I know, this summer flew by." My words were muffled in her hair. The scent of her strawberry shampoo was one more thing I"d miss.

Parker hugged Willow goodbye and promised to stay in touch and let her know when we arrived safely.

As we climbed into the car, my gaze flickered to the rear-view mirror where Reese stood with his hands buried deep in his pockets. He gave me a long lingering look, almost as if something unspoken passed between us—a silent conversation of what could have been.

"Take care, okay?" Willow said through the window.

"We will," I replied, though my attention never left Reese.

Parker revved the engine, and as we began to pull away, I watched them shrink into the distance. Reese, who just captured my heart and then crushed it, and Willow, the person who brought so much sunshine everywhere she went—they were the anchors of a summer I"d never forget.

"See you next summer," I whispered, though they couldn"t hear me. It was a promise to myself more than anyone else. My fingers traced the outline of my phone in my pocket, the weight of Reese"s words still hanging in the air.

"Chan," Parker glanced at me with concern, "You gonna be okay?"

"Of course," I lied, forcing a smile as I watched the outlines of Reese and Willow blur together until they were nothing more than specks in the rearview mirror. "Just going to miss this place, you know?"

"Oh, believe me, I know," Parker replied with a nod, his focus returning to the road ahead.

But he didn"t get it. Not really. No one could understand the ache of leaving something—or someone—that had seeped into your very being. As the miles stretched out before us, my mind replayed every moment of the summer, each memory a bittersweet pang in my chest.

And with my heart torn by goodbyes and the uncertainty of when I would see or talk to Reese again, I began the countdown—days, hours, minutes—until I could hopefully return to the sun-soaked haven where everything had changed. Until then, I would cling to the hope that some connections, once built, could weather any season.