Chapter 42 Everything, All at Once
EVERYTHING, ALL AT ONCE
RORIE
The sun melts into the horizon, rich shades of amber, peach, and blood-orange streak across the sky. The light makes everything feel cinematic, like the world hit pause just for us, just for this moment.
Our bare feet press into the damp sand, the tide flirting with our ankles, warm and teasing. The only sounds are the hush of the waves and the occasional gull overhead.
Nolan walks beside me. He captures my hands, interlaces our fingers. I can smell the sun on his skin. He’s been mostly quiet, letting the rhythm of the sea fill in the space between us.
I can’t stop glancing sideways at him. I try to keep my attention forward, but he’s so beautiful, it’s hard.
I should feel calm. This should be a moment of peace. But my chest is tight with a truth clawing up my throat, and the longer I keep it in, the more it feels like a betrayal.
Nolan lifts his phone and stops. “Sunset’s too good not to capture.”
He’s right. The sky’s gone all apocalyptic in the prettiest way with gold bleeding into coral, and violets and indigos dancing across the water.
His phone angles it toward me. Click.
“Did you just—?”
“Had to.” He smirks, that dimple peeking out. “You look like magic.”
I laugh, but it comes out shaky. He’s staring at his screen, admiring the photo and butterflies in my stomach erupt.
“I’m using this as your profile photo,” he says casually, opening up his contacts. “I need proof you’re real.”
And just like that, the butterflies nosedive straight into a meat grinder. Dread slithers in, winding itself around my insides, waiting for its cue.
Now it’s center stage.
I know what’s coming.
And I’m the reason everything’s about to potentially fall apart.
“Nolan…”
The light hits his eyes just right, softening that impossible shade of golden brown—half storm, half salvation. I wish I could swim in that look. I wish I deserved to.
“What’s your number?” A thumb hovers over his screen like it’s just another casual request. Just a normal guy on a normal beach, asking for a normal girl’s number.
Only this isn’t normal. None of it is.
My heart’s punching at my ribs. A deep, aching rhythm that feels like the truth begging to be let out.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” I whisper.
When he sees my expression, and the worry in my eyes, his whole body stills. It’s a subtle shift. But it’s there.
Nolan’s weight balances. His shoulders lock, but his eyes stay on mine. Steady. Open.
“Okay…” His expression tells me he thinks I’m about to drop something that might change us, and what we have right now, in this moment.
And that breaks me a little.
I’ve been keeping this secret wound so tight it’s cut into me. Saying it out loud could unravel everything.
Carl is the one who made me laugh on my worst days.
The one who never saw my face but somehow saw me.
The one who made the silence feel less empty.
And I’m terrified that if I pull the thread, I’ll lose the one part of my day I looked forward to.
The messages. The banter. The person on the other end of the unknown.
The version of me that felt safe behind a screen.
Not too much.
Not too little.
Just… enough.
But Nolan is Carl. And it’s time to let him share this secret with me.
“I’m not just Rorie Adams. I mean, I am. But I’m also…” My throat goes tight.
Nolan’s head tilts, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t look nervous. He looks giddy. He’s convinced I’m about to say something adorable, not earth-shattering.
“Well, I mean—who else are you?” He takes a step closer. His fingers graze mine. “Like… are you also Rorie Adams, my girlfriend? Is that where this is going? Because if this is your version of asking me to hit the next level with you, ten out of ten. I’m swooning.”
My chest caves in. And his smile, God, it’s so sweet. So happy. He doesn’t see the wrecking ball coming. Part of me wants to freeze it here, capture this perfect second before the storm breaks.
My fingers tremble as I dig my phone out of the back pocket of my shorts.
Nolan blinks. “Why do I feel worried?”
“Get close to me.” I lift the phone, snap a picture of the two of us with the sun dipping low behind us, painting the sky in wild strokes of fiery colors.
Click.
I open my message thread for Carl.
[image attached]
So, this is me.
His phone buzzes in his hand.
I see it hit him like a slap. That familiar ping. His brows furrow as he opens the message. His giddy grin slips. The sunset behind us may as well disappear too.
Confusion crashes in first… then realization.
Silence.
Loud, terrible, crushing silence.
All those texts.
All the banter.
The comfort. The confessions.
His jaw tightens. Is he angry?
“You?” His voice is hoarse. “You’re—you’re TF?”
Nodding, I quickly say, “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”
His attention snaps to me. The sky’s burning around us, like even the sun can’t look away.
“How long have you known?”
“I put it together the day before we flew out. I didn’t know how to tell you—”
“You didn’t know how to tell me?” His voice is quieter now. “You’ve known this whole time. The jokes. The confessions. The texts. You knew when we—” He stops short, swallows. “Jesus, Rorie.”
He starts walking.
Not fast.
Not storming off.
Just walking.
His shoulders are tight, hands curled at his sides.
“Nolan,” I call, following. “Wait—please, let me explain.”
“I’m not running,” he says, without looking back. “I just… I need a minute to process this.”
I stop walking. Chasing him would be selfish. He deserves that minute.
My chest hurts. I want to scream that none of it was a game to me. That I was scared. That I’m still me.
But he’s gone, swallowed by the curve of the shoreline, the dying sun catching the back of his neck.
And all I can do is stand there, sand in my toes, heartbreak in my heart, wondering if I just lost the one person who made the ground feel steady again right when I’d finally stopped gripping the walls.