Chapter 14
NATALIE
T hat night I dreamed…
The air was thick with summer … heavy with pine and the scent of lake water , warm enough that our skin stuck where it touched , but neither of us moved . We were stretched out on a quilt by the shore at Lakeview Park , tucked away from the world in a little pocket of night that felt like ours .
Easton lay beside me , one arm behind his head , the other brushing lazy patterns against my hip . His T-shirt had ridden up slightly , and my hand rested on the sliver of bare skin just above his jeans like it had found a home there .
We’d started sneaking out a few weeks earlier — when the heat made it impossible to sleep and the world felt too big to stay inside .
My parents thought I was at Sarah’s house , and Easton had muttered something to his dad about a football meeting .
But really , we were here , every night if we could help it , wrapped in stolen time and the illusion that nothing would ever change .
He was talking softly , something about the stars and how that cluster above the horizon looked like a heart —“ if you tilted your head just right ”— but I wasn’t really paying attention . Not to the sky , anyway.
I was watching him .
His mouth . His profile . The way his lashes flickered when he looked up as if the universe had personally invited him to dream .
“ Do you see it ?” he said , his finger outlining a cluster of stars just above the horizon , his tone bright with excitement .
I squinted , following his finger , trying to see what he saw , but all I could make out was a random scattering of lights , twinkling against the dark .
“ A heart ?” I teased , turning my head to look at him , a playful smile tugging at my lips .
“ I think you’re making that up , Easton . It looks more like … a lumpy potato .”
His laugh rumbled through me , warm and unfiltered . “ A potato ? You wound me . No vision at all .”
“ None ,” I said , grinning as I rolled onto my side to face him .
He was already watching me . Not the stars . Not the sky . Me .
The way he looked at me then … I don’t think I’ll ever forget it . Like I was something cosmic . Like I was the constellation . His eyes were reflecting starlight again , distracting me from anything else , but it was the way they softened that nearly undid me .
“ Come on ,” he murmured , brushing a piece of hair from my cheek , his fingertips lingering . “ It’s totally a heart . It’s our heart .”
“ Our heart ?” I repeated , amused .
“ Our star ,” he said , correcting himself , quieter now . “ We found it together . So it’s ours .”
I swallowed around the sudden tightness in my throat . It was such a dumb , sweet thing . A made-up star , a teenage boy with a wild imagination and a crooked grin . And yet , I knew I would carry it with me forever .
“ What should we call it ?” I asked , because I already knew this moment was one I’d come back to in the quiet .
He didn’t answer right away . Just looked at me , really looked at me . His thumb continuing to brush those slow , lazy circles on my skin. The air between us felt charged , like something was about to happen . Something important .
“ The Promise ,” he finally whispered .
My breath caught .
“ Because I promise , Nat . No matter what happens , I’ll find you . Always . Even if we’re on opposite ends of the world . Even if we lose touch or get lost or … or hurt each other . I’ll come back . I’ll always come back to you .”
There was a beat of silence , thick and fragile , hanging between us like glass .
And then I reached for him . My hand cupped his cheek , my thumb brushing over the faint stubble he’d been trying to grow . I felt my chest squeeze , something blooming painfully behind my ribs .
“ Easton ,” I whispered , my voice trembling as I searched for the words , my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst . “ I … I promise , too . I’ll always find you . No matter what .”
I swallowed hard , my eyes filling with tears as I let the words I’d been holding back spill out , the words I’d known were true for years but had been too scared to say .
And then , like it was the most natural thing in the world … I said it .
“ I love you .”
His eyes widened just a little , and then his whole face transformed . The grin that spread across his lips was slow and breathtaking and so full of wonder that I felt it down to my bones .
“ I love you too , Nat ,” he whispered , his forehead dropping to mine .
Then he kissed me .
It wasn’t our first kiss . But it was the first one that felt like more .
His lips were soft and sure , coaxing rather than claiming , like he wanted to give me every chance to run — and every reason to stay . And I did stay. I kissed him back , my arms wrapping around his neck as the world slipped away .
For a while , it was just us . Two teenagers in love beneath a summer night sky , sealed together by a promise written in stars .
Eventually we lay back down , his arm a warm anchor around my waist , his chest the rhythm I fell asleep to . I remember thinking that the world could fall apart , and I’d still have this night . This memory .
“ Our star ,” I whispered as my eyes began to drift closed .
“ Forever ,” he murmured , pressing a kiss to my temple .
And in that moment , under the eternal sky and the flickering promise of constellations , I believed him . With everything I had .
I woke with a start, my breath catching in my throat like it had nowhere else to go. For a second, I didn’t know where I was.
The dream still clung to me, wrapping around my limbs like lake water—warm, heavy, impossible to shake off. I could still feel the damp summer air, the scratch of quilted fabric beneath my back, the weight of Easton’s promise echoing in my chest like it was still a teenage me lying under the stars.
I sat up too fast, the blanket slipping down around my waist. My heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with this soft, cozy room and everything to do with a memory I hadn’t let myself visit in years.
The other side of the bed was empty.
The pillow was warm, though, and the dent from his head was still there. My hand slid across it before I realized what I was doing, like I was searching for something to hold on to.
And that’s when I saw the note.
Folded neatly, tucked under the edge of the pillow like a secret he’d wanted me to find.
Out with Levi—he dragged me hunting. I think he might actually be a morning person?? Pray for me. Can’t wait to see you when I get back. —E
I stared at the note for a long moment, my chest aching in a way that was both too much and not enough.
The handwriting was familiar, even though it had gotten slightly messier since high school.
The swoop of the E at the end still looked like a flourish he’d practiced just to sign my yearbooks with something cool.
I lay back down slowly, the sheets cool against my bare skin, and stared up at the ceiling.
The dream wouldn’t let go. The way he’d said forever . The way I’d believed him.
Maybe I still did .
That was the scariest part.
My eyes had just drifted shut again—only half-heartedly, like my brain knew I wasn’t really going back to sleep—when my phone buzzed on the nightstand.
The shrill ring that accompanied the vibrations shattered the quiet, slicing through the morning hush like it had a personal grudge.
I reached over, bleary-eyed and half-draped in the comforter, and squinted at the screen.
Unknown Number.
My heart gave a little stutter.
I stared at it, a frown tugging at my mouth.
It could’ve been a spam call. Some cheerful robot trying to offer me a new car warranty or tell me I’d won an all-expenses-paid cruise to somewhere I’d never asked to go. But something about the timing…something about the way my stomach clenched on instinct, made me freeze.
I didn’t answer.
I let it ring until it stopped, the silence that followed somehow louder than the ringtone.
Still frowning, I set the phone back down and pushed the covers off. My feet hit the floor with a soft thud , the hardwood cool against my skin. I padded toward the bathroom, rolling my shoulders, shaking off the remnants of the dream, of the ache in my chest, of the call I hadn’t picked up.
It was time to face the day.
Whatever it decided to throw at me.
EASTON
The suite was dark when I walked in.
No sign of Natalie.
No coat on the hook. No heels by the door. No light left on .
My chest tightened instinctively, the calm I’d finally found somewhere during hunting in the snowy woods with Levi and the rest of his groomsmen—and swearing at frozen bootlaces—vanishing in a heartbeat.
She wasn’t here.
The echo of our last conversation replayed in my head. Her avoidance of me all day yesterday. The pain in her eyes when she’d come into the room last night. All of it twisted into something too loud in my ears.
I set my gear down slowly, tugged off my gloves, and scanned the room again like she might suddenly materialize from behind a lamp.
She didn’t.
Then I noticed it—her phone was on the nightstand.
A rush of relief hit me hard and fast. She hadn’t left for good. She wouldn’t go anywhere without that thing.
She was still here. Somewhere.
I exhaled, my fingers tightening on the doorframe as I turned back around.
Everything had that late-night stillness to it—like even the walls had gone to sleep. The only light came from the occasional holiday garland strung along the railing, the tiny white bulbs casting soft halos intermittently across the hallway like breadcrumbs.
And then I heard it.
A quiet clink . A soft shuffle. Something subtle but familiar.
The kitchen.
Of course.
I followed the faint spill of light stretching into the corridor and pushed open the half-closed door.
And there she was.