Chapter 44
forty-four
Sadie
We’re tucked into the back of Cherry Pit while the officers sort through this mess. The place smells like citrus cleaner and fryer oil that’s finally gone cold, an end-of-night scent that usually means relief. Tonight it just makes my stomach roll.
When Nick came in—clearly drunk, loud in a sloppy way that’s meant to look charming but never is—and Birdie clocked it immediately, she didn’t hesitate. One look at the way he swayed, the way his voice cut too sharp through the room, and she was already on the phone calling the police.
I’d basically begged them to move us out of sight from the front windows.
One: this is humiliating. Two: I’m painfully aware that Colson probably doesn’t want a single extra photo floating around out there.
When I saw the tourists across the street, phones half-raised the moment someone whispered his name, my chest dropped straight to my feet. Golden Harbor has been different for him. Quiet. Normal. No spotlights, no performance. Just lake water and fireworks and easy smiles.
Now it feels like I’ve ruined it.
Maren slides onto the stool beside me, the vinyl squeaking in the empty bar.
She was walking to her car from putting in some late night hours at the flower shop and stumbled onto the disaster that was Nick.
Cherry Pit is officially closed—servers stacking chairs, the dishwasher humming in the back—while the cops talk to Colson and Nick near the storage hallway.
“What the hell do you think he was even doing here?” she asks, knocking back her vodka soda like she’s mad at the glass. The bar might be closed, but Birdie didn’t even pretend this wasn’t an exception.
My hands shake as I lift my drink. I notice Maren’s doing the same, which somehow makes it worse. “No idea. I haven’t heard from him in over a year. Like… truly nothing. Out of sight, out of mind.” My throat tightens. “Until he called tonight. And then just showed up.”
Nick was a lot of things, but aggressive had never been one of them.
Not like this. He specialized in passive-aggressive digs, in rewriting reality until I questioned my own memory.
He could convince me the sky was green if it served him, and could suck joy out of a room without ever raising his voice.
I didn’t even realize how small I’d become until I was already gone.
“I can’t believe he just showed up, like a bad wish granted by some shitty genie,” Maren mutters. “Where is he even living?”
“Downstate. Hours away.” I stare at the condensation ring my glass leaves behind.
Maren shakes her head slowly. “I’m shocked Colson didn’t punch him square in the face.”
“Oh, he wanted to.” My chest aches at the thought. Colson’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles went white, then shoved behind his back like he didn’t trust himself. Like he needed to physically restrain the part of him that wanted to protect me.
Fuck. It stings.
Tonight had been so good before all of this. We’d even recovered after the random phone call—laughed it off, settled back into the quiet. One minute we’re watching the lake, his arm pulling me close like it’s instinct, and the next? Total, awful chaos.
“Nick’s lucky I wasn’t here,” Maren says fiercely. “I’d have kicked him straight in the dick. Apologized. Gained his trust back. And then done it again.”
Her eyes shine, angry tears collecting there, the kind that always surprises me. Not sad. Furious. Protective.
Birdie leans across the bar toward me, voice gentler now. “Babe, you okay? Looks like they’re wrapping things up back there.” She tips her head toward the officers, toward Colson standing stiff and contained a few feet away.
“What can they even do?” Maren asks, glancing between us. “Colson didn’t do anything, right?”
Birdie shakes her head. “This happens sometimes with tourists. Not usually locals.” She sighs. “They can’t do much without catching Nick in the act, driving or even holding his keys. A few of us gave statements. Told them he fell on his own dumb-ass accord and Colson kept his hands to himself.”
What a nightmare.
“It’s messy. Annoying.” Birdie wipes down the bar with a little more force than necessary. “But they’ll make sure Nick gets somewhere safe for the night.” She snorts. “Not that he deserves an ounce of grace.”
I stare down at my drink, at the ripples still trembling inside it, my hands the culprit.
I hate the way I can still hear Nick screaming my name like that, like his words left a mark where no one can see. Like he was ripping through this happy place. The city I call home.
And I have no idea why. What does he even want? I kind of hate that I’m thinking about it but how could I not?
The sound of footsteps grab our attention and we walk as a cop leads Nick out, followed by the other cop and Colson. The sight of them has me standing.
Nick slows as he approaches me, and before anyone can say anything, Maren jumps in.
“I wish I could say it was good to see you but that would be a lie. Gross behavior, Nick.” She rolls her eyes and turns back to face the bar, not even giving him a chance to respond.
His face drops a bit and his eyes look at mine. The man I fell in love with years ago is nowhere in sight. Like, not even a glimpse of him.
“Sadie. I just wanted to talk.” His head almost hangs but he’s being pushed from behind.
I don’t even have a chance to respond. Not even sure I want to.
Tom, the town deputy, says, “Keep going, Nick. We talked about this. Now is not the time.”
Colson wraps me up in a hug, his arms strong and substantial. I put my head in his chest, so thankful this night is almost over. He doesn’t say anything but instead holds onto me, swaying us back and forth. One of his hands draws circles on my back.
When they’re out the front door, Maren jumps in. “Spill, Colson. What happened?”
He blows out a breath, looking around to make sure no one else is nearby.
“I mean, he tried to say that I pushed him. He was in there, throwing a fit, and then the deputies let him know they already had statements from other people.” He rubs his hands over his face. “And then he finally told the truth.”
“What a dick,” she says.
Colson looks at me when he continues, “He just kept saying he came to talk. Didn’t say why. Or what about. They didn’t do anything about the drinking and driving, except they’re going to drop him off at one of the motels nearby. Awfully nice.” He rolls his eyes.
“I brought him here a few times when we were together. Maybe that’s why,” I contemplate, doing my best to make sure it doesn’t sound like an excuse—that’s the last thing he deserves.
“Well, at least he’s out of your hair.” Maren stands from the bar. “You got her?” she asks Colson.
He nods and responds, “Of course.”
She puts a hand on his shoulder, which is kind of funny because he’s so tall, but Maren has that energy to go toe-to-toe with him. “Thank you for taking care of her tonight. I appreciate it.” She pauses and then points at him, “And, I expect it.”
“You got it,” he assures her.
Maren leaves and it’s only me and him.
I lean, my back hitting the bar with the weight of the evening.
Colson doesn’t say anything at first. He looks at me, which is somehow worse than if he’d started talking. His jaw is tight, shoulders stiff, like he’s holding something back. I can feel his anger without him naming it, the way it hums under his skin.
He steps closer, close enough that I can smell his peppermint soap, something familiar and grounding. Then he kisses my forehead.
It’s simple and soft. But needed.
“I don’t really know anything about him but I’ll tell you one thing,” he says quietly, like it’s been sitting on his tongue all night. “There’s no way he knew what he had.” He swallows, his hand flexing at his side. “The way he stole your light? Never again.”
My throat tightens. I stare at the floor because if I look at him, I might cry, and the thought of doing that in an empty Cherry Pit bar is too depressing to take.
Colson lifts my chin gently with one finger, forcing my eyes back to his. “You are incredible.”
The word lands warm in my chest. I don’t quite believe them yet.
“Sunshine girl,” he adds, like it’s a truth he’s reminding me of, not a nickname.
Something in me melts. Enough to catch my breath.
“Come on,” he says, exhaling like he’s made a decision. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabs my hand and leads me outside.
Minutes later, I’m in his passenger seat, exhaustion settling into my bones as the remaining downtown streetlights blur past the window. Colson’s hands are steady on the wheel, his presence solid beside me.
I rest my head back, eyes closing.
Sunshine girl. I can’t get over it. The way he sees me? Tonight, it’s everything.