Chapter 3
Unwritten Past
After Savannah and Mallory got settled in, unpacked their bags, and changed into something more fitting for the warm coastal air, they decided to take a drive through town.
Mallory was eager to explore, taking in the charm of Wrightsville Beach for the first time, while Savannah—well, she wouldn’t admit to wanting to see what, or maybe who, was still here.
The streets felt both familiar and foreign as she navigated them.
The same winding roads, the same towering oak trees lining the outskirts of town, their sprawling branches forming a canopy overhead, casting shifting shadows against the pavement.
The salty breeze drifted in through the open windows, bringing with it the unmistakable scents of fried seafood, warm boardwalk planks, and the faintest trace of suntan lotion lingering in the air.
Storefronts had changed. Some bore fresh coats of paint, while others had been replaced entirely, but the essence of Wrightsville Beach remained the same—unchanged, unwavering, just as she had left it.
She slowed the car as they approached the pier, a place that had once been a staple of her summers.
The ice cream shop on the corner still had its bright red awning, though the sign now looked newer, shinier.
The bait shop next door had undergone a facelift, its once-faded exterior now crisp and well-maintained, yet the wooden dock that stretched into the water remained untouched—weathered, sturdy, a constant in a town that had evolved in pieces.
She could still remember the late nights spent there, wrapped up in someone’s hoodie, toes dipping into the cool water, laughter carried away by the wind.
The scent of bonfires and salt, the sound of distant music playing from a car stereo, and the unmistakable pull of something that had once felt bigger than anything else in the world.
Then, as they turned the corner, something else caught her attention.
A name.
A sign she hadn’t expected to see.
Montgomery & Associates
Consulting Services
Her fingers instinctively tightened around the steering wheel as she eased the car to a stop in front of the building.
It was an old Southern-style home, the kind that had been repurposed for business without sacrificing its charm.
A white wraparound porch stretched across the front, supported by thick columns that looked as if they had witnessed decades of whispered conversations and quiet confessions.
The windows glowed softly from the inside, warm and inviting, and the front yard was landscaped with such precision that it was clear—this was not temporary. This was rooted. Permanent.
Her stomach twisted.
It couldn’t be his.
It couldn’t be the same Chase Montgomery she had known—the one who had spent his nights charming every girl in town, the one who had been as wild and unpredictable as the ocean itself.
“Holy shit.”
Mallory’s voice cut through the quiet, snapping Savannah out of her trance.
She turned to find her friend staring at the sign, wide-eyed.
“That’s his, isn’t it?” Mallory asked, though it wasn’t really a question.
Savannah swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”
Mallory scoffed. “Don’t lie to me. That’s Chase Montgomery’s. I remember the way you used to talk about him.”
Savannah shook her head, shifting her gaze back to the building, as if looking at it long enough might make it disappear. “That was a long time ago.”
“But it was real.” Mallory folded her arms. “You were crazy about him.”
Savannah let out a quiet laugh, one devoid of humor. “I was young.”
“You were in love,” Mallory corrected. “And instead, you went for the safe choice.”
Savannah’s chest tightened. “Trevor wasn’t—”
“Trevor wasn’t Chase,” Mallory interjected, blunt as ever. “I’ve heard the stories, Sav. How your face would light up when Chase was around. How even when you were with Trevor, it was always him.”
Savannah exhaled slowly, willing the memories to stay buried where they belonged. But they didn’t.
She could still picture Chase—tan skin, wind-tousled hair, the mischievous grin he always wore like a second skin.
She could still hear the sound of his laughter, the way he used to make everything feel effortless, weightless.
He had been the kind of person you didn’t just forget. The kind that lingered.
She looked back at the sign, her pulse quickening.
She had spent years convincing herself that Chase had been nothing more than a reckless infatuation, a fleeting crush on someone she had no business wanting. She had told herself that leaving had been the right choice, that choosing stability over chaos had been smart.
But standing here now, staring at proof that he had stayed, that he had built something real, something lasting in this town… it made her question everything.
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said finally, her voice quieter than she intended.
Mallory studied her for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. If that’s what you want to tell yourself. But I have a feeling you’re about to find out otherwise.”
Savannah’s hands tightened on the wheel as she stared out at the quiet street. The sunset bathed everything in golden light, casting an almost nostalgic glow over the town, making it feel harder to stay detached.
She wanted to believe that Chase was just another piece of her past, another name she had long since left behind.
But deep down, she knew better.
“I get it,” Mallory said, her tone softer now. “You think letting him go was the right thing. That playing it safe was smart. But, Savannah, safe doesn’t mean happy.”
Savannah sighed, shaking her head. “Maybe some people aren’t meant to be ‘your person,’ Mallory. Maybe they’re just meant to be part of your story.”
Mallory tilted her head, watching her carefully. “And what part of your story was Chase?”
Savannah hesitated. She could still remember the way his eyes lingered when he thought no one was watching, the way his voice sounded when he said her name. The way her heart had betrayed her every single time she saw him, no matter how much she told herself otherwise.
“The chapter that never got written,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mallory let out a slow breath. “And you’re okay with that?”
Savannah forced a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Mallory didn’t push further, but the silence between them was weighted.
The sun had begun to dip lower, streaking the sky with hues of orange and pink, reflecting off the water in a way that made everything feel softer, almost dreamlike. For a moment, Savannah let herself sink into it—the familiarity, the memories, the ache of something unresolved.
Then, Mallory smirked. “Alright, serious moment over. Now, I’m starving. Where’s the best place to eat around here?”
Savannah exhaled a laugh, grateful for the shift. “The Low-Tide Tavern.”
Mallory raised an eyebrow. “That’s the one you said was his favorite, isn’t it?”
Savannah hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”
Mallory’s smirk widened. “Then that’s definitely where we’re going.”
Savannah’s heart pounded as she turned onto the road leading toward the tavern. Toward the inevitable.
Toward him.