Chapter 25
CALVIN
Iwobble behind the row of spruce at the edge of the lot, far enough from the tent that the music’s more hum than song. Crickets take over the soundtrack.
Riot’s punch was a bad idea. Broke the seal. Mid-stream, I’m congratulating myself for saving water and saving the planet when something flickers through the trees.
The buzz dips. My brain catches up slower than my eyes.
Footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Gravel crunches.
My heart jumps. For a second, I think I’ve been caught. My head snaps up, and through the branches, I see him.
Evan.
Head down, swiping at his face with his sleeve. The streetlamp catches the wet tracks on his cheeks before he turns away.
He yanks open his car door, mutters something I can’t catch, then slams it hard enough to echo. The engine fires. Gravel spits. Seconds later, his taillights disappear down the road.
Something knots low in my gut.
Whatever went down, it wasn’t small.
I step out from behind the brush, scanning for anyone nearby.
No one. Just the dim glow spilling from the tent and the wide stretch of fields beyond.
That’s when I see her silhouette.
Jules.
She’s standing at the fence line, the last of the golden hour bleeding out behind her as the tall grass stirs in the breeze.
I walk toward her, slow, hands shoved in my pockets.
“Hey. Saw Evan head out. He looked…” I pause, words sliding around in my mouth. “…I don’t know. Rough, I guess. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
She doesn’t look at me right away. “Yeah. I’m fine. We just… had to talk about some stuff.”
I stop a few feet back, careful not to crowd her. “Okay. Well… you wanna talk about it? Or is there something I can do?”
Her arms cross tight over her chest. “No thanks, Calvin. I’m fine. Could you just… not act like you care all of a sudden? After ten years?”
Her voice cracks on the last word.
It hits deeper than I expect.
She glances over her shoulder, face unreadable, then turns back to the field. “Just leave me alone. That’s how you can help.”
Fair enough. She’s allowed to be mad, even if I’m not the one she’s really mad at.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “No problem.”
I take a step back, slow. I know better than to press it.
The porch wraps around the front and side of the BnB, scattered with swing chairs, wooden benches, and old rockers. The kind of place built for quiet conversations and people avoiding crowded rooms.
I sink into a rocker on the far side, away from the lights. The wood creaks as the music and laughter fade to a low thrum. Jules slipped back inside a few minutes ago, leaving the fence line empty.
The last stretch of daylight hangs low over the field, turning the tall grass bronze at the edges.
I rub a hand over my jaw, the image of Evan tearing off still sharp in my mind. Whatever happened out there landed hard. And Jules… she didn’t look angry when I walked up. More… cornered. Like the night, the town, her whole life was pressing in.
The rocker groans softly as I lean back and stare toward the field again.
The front doors swing open, spilling warm light across the porch boards. Footsteps. Laughter.
Maddie’s voice carries first, broken by little hiccups of emotion. “You’ve always been there for me, Jules. I can’t believe this happened like this, but… even if he wasn’t exactly your vibe… he’s not blind. He could tell something’s changed.”
Jules answers softly, almost apologetic. “Thanks, Maddie. I know I’ll be okay. I just don’t want to think about it right now. It’s your night.” A pauses. “Here, Cara. Take this bouquet. You’re more likely to be the next one to get married.”
Cara scoffs. “That is not how it works. You caught the bouquet, you deal with the curse.”
“You dragged me into that mess,” Jules shoots back, dry but fond.
Maddie snorts. “Could be a blessing. Or doom. Fifty-fifty shot.”
Their laughter drifts out across the porch, softer now, worn around the edges. I can almost picture Jules smiling through it. Small. Tired. Real.
Cara rallies them again. “Come on. The DJ’s about to play our playlist. You’re dancing with me whether you like it or not.”
“Seriously?” Jules asks, warmth flickering back into her voice.
“Seriously.”
The porch creaks. A rustle of fabric. Maybe a hug. Then two sets of footsteps disappear toward the tent, swallowed by the darkening field beyond the string lights.
One set lingers.
Jules.
She waits a beat before stepping down to follow. Slower this time. Quiet.
My chest tightens. Maddie all but said it outright. They broke up. That’s why Evan left, and now Jules is out here trying to hold herself together long enough to survive the rest of the night.
It feels sudden, but maybe it’s been unraveling for a while. Longer than I could ever know.
The thought settles heavy in my chest, but not hopeless.
I lean back in the rocker, eyes on the stretch of field beyond. The air still holds a trace of warmth, leaving behind the hum of crickets, distant music from the tent, and the soft glow of lights scattered across the property like fallen stars.
I close my eyes for a moment and let the chair creak beneath me while the night carries on around us.
A few minutes pass, though the quiet makes it feel longer. The party’s alive, laughter spilling from the tent, bass thrumming through the grass.
I push up from the rocker, stretch my legs, and take a long breath before heading toward the front.
The tent flaps burst open with a wash of light. Riot’s voice cuts through the noise. “There you are. Where you been? Haven’t seen you for, let’s see…” he checks his watch, “about fifteen minutes, and that’s fourteen too many at my wedding.”
He’s already crossing the lawn, two beers swinging from his fingers. I pause at the top of the steps as he climbs up and presses one into my palm.
I twist the cap, the fizz biting my throat as I take a pull. “Just grabbing a breather, man. Taking in the night.” I tip the bottle toward the tent. “So, uh… saw Evan storm off earlier. Then Jules kinda gave me the cold shoulder. What’s your read on that?”
Riot leans against the railing, one boot hooked on the step, smirk edging like he knows the inside scoop. “She’s had a hell of a half hour. Word is, she just ended things with city-boy. Guess he was just keepin’ her safe until big boy stepped back in.”
I don’t bite, just shake my head. “It’s actually over, huh? He just got here a few hours ago.”
“Yeah,” Riot says, dragging the word out. “Apparently Jules had to break it to him… she’s still in love with you, man.”
I take a swig, laughing under my breath. “You never change.” I shake my head, still smiling. “And here I thought weddings were supposed to be simple.”
Riot grins, unbothered.
“Appreciate the update,” I add, tipping my bottle toward him. “Real subtle as always. I’ll keep it in my back pocket for later.”
Riot barks a laugh, clearly pleased with himself. “Okay, maybe that’s not exactly what she said, but I’d bet money she’s still into you, Cal.” He winks. “Either way, that’s the lowdown. Do with it what you will.”
His gaze flicks toward the tent, smirk softening. “Funny thing, she’s still carrying that bouquet. You think that’s superstition? Or fate?”
Then he glances at me. “Time to see what Coach Calvin does with all them techniques you’ve been selling all these years.”
I follow his line of sight. Jules is a blur on the dance floor, moving, smiling even, but in that way people do when they’re trying to outrun their thoughts.
I tip the bottle toward Riot. “Can’t give away the playbook, man. You’re a married man now. Wouldn’t want Maddie thinking you’re still scouting for moves.”
He laughs, shaking his head, but I barely register it. My eyes stay on Jules. The crowd shifts around her in waves of color and light. Cara leans in, says something that makes them both laugh.
For a second, Jules glances toward the open side of the tent. Close enough that my chest tightens. But I stay put.
Someone tall steps in, faceless in the dim glow, and she’s spun back into the crowd.
Riot eyes me, half-grinning. “You gonna go talk to her, or keep hiding out here?”
I take a slow pull from the bottle, eyes fixed on where I last saw her. “I’ll head back in, yeah. But not tonight.” My voice is even.
Her mind’s a mess. She doesn’t need me barging in just to feel better about myself. She’ll be okay. And when she’s ready, I’ll be there.
I push off the railing, tip the bottle back one last time, and let the quiet settle.
Then my bladder reminds me. Riot’s punch has a way of circling back.
Figures. Back to the woods.