Chapter 46 Old Friends
Old Friends
Mallory sat cross-legged on her couch, a half-full glass of cheap-but-does-the-job wine in one hand, her phone in the other.
The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the TV in the background—some crime show she wasn’t really watching, the kind where the detective always figures it out in the last five minutes.
But she wasn’t watching.
She was staring at Chase’s name on her screen. Debating.
Because this wasn’t just some casual check-in.
This was poking a hornet’s nest with a stick.
But after Savannah’s miserable attempt at a date, after the way she’d come home hollow and lost all over again, after the way she’d curled up on the couch, eating a single piece of pizza like it was punishment instead of dinner—Mallory couldn’t take it anymore.
So she hit call.
The phone rang once. Then twice. And then—
"Mallory." That voice. Smooth. Steady. Relaxed.
And it caught her off guard. Because it had been a long time since she had heard Chase Montgomery sound like himself.
"Montgomery," she greeted, taking a slow sip of wine, letting herself listen for a second longer than necessary.
A beat of silence.
Then—
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Mallory smirked. "What, I can’t just call an old friend?"
A low chuckle. “Mal, you and I both know you don’t call just to check in.”
She grinned, swirling her wine. "Fair." But she didn’t get to the point right away. Instead, she let the moment settle, let herself take in the ease of this conversation. Because for the first time in a long time, Chase didn’t sound like a ghost of himself.
And that? That was something.
“So,” she started, stretching out her legs. “How’s life?”
"Good." Chase said simply.
"Vague. Try again."
Another chuckle. "Life is… fine. Work is busy, the guys are good, the business is steady."
"Okay, and what about you?" she pressed. "The man, not the businessman. Are you happy?"
Chase exhaled, thoughtful. “I’m—better.”
Mallory caught that hesitation. But she didn’t push.
Not yet—
"And your love life?" she asked casually.
Chase scoffed. "Mal—"
"No, no," she interrupted, grinning. "I need to know. You dating anyone?"
"No." He said bluntly.
Mallory narrowed her eyes. "Let me rephrase—have you even tried?"
Chase sighed. "Damn, Mal."
"I mean, c’mon, Montgomery. It’s been a year. Are you telling me you’ve just been sitting around sulking this whole time?"
"I don’t sulk." He chirped back.
"Debatable," she teased.
Chase exhaled, shaking his head. "Look, it’s not that I haven’t been out. I’ve gone places, I’ve met people."
Mallory raised a brow. "And?"
"And… nothing." He said.
"Nothing?" She asked surprisingly.
"Mal—"
"Are you telling me," she cut in, sitting up straighter, "that you haven’t had so much as a one-night stand in a year?"
Silence. Mallory blinked.
Then—
"Holy shit."
Chase chuckled. "You good?"
"No, I’m not good!" she practically shrieked. "You, Chase Montgomery, have gone an entire year without getting laid? Am I talking to Chase? Who the fuck are you?" She said laughing.
Chase smirked. "Mal, not that it’s any of your business, but—I haven’t."
Mallory sat back, stunned. Because Chase was never the kind of guy to ride the pine. He wasn’t the type to sit around waiting for someone who wasn’t coming back. He moved on.
He always moved on.
But this?
This wasn’t just moving forward. This was proof that he never really let go.
And it damn near broke her.
She swallowed hard, deciding to lighten the conversation before it got too heavy. "Okay, let’s shift gears before I start crying into my wine. How’s life on the sound?"
Chase hesitated.
Just for a second.
"It’s good. I’ve made some changes to the house."
Mallory raised a brow. "Like what?"
"Kitchen’s different now. New floors, new cabinets. I redid the first-floor guest room, too."
Mallory inhaled sharply. She knew exactly what that meant—
Erasing memories.
She didn’t say anything. But Chase must’ve read her silence.
"It looks different now," he murmured.
"Different," she echoed, voice soft.
"Yeah." A beat of hesitation.
Then—
"I’m thinking about selling it."
Mallory nearly dropped her wine glass. "Wait—what?" She questioned.
"It’s just a house, Mal."
"No, it’s not." Her voice firm.
Chase sighed. "I don’t know. I just think—maybe it’s time for something new."
Mallory bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Because this house? This wasn’t just a place Chase lived. This was where he and Savannah happened. Where they danced barefoot on the dock. Where they made love the night before she left. And now he was thinking about walking away from all of it.
Chase took a deep breath. "Well… if it won’t hurt her, tell Savannah that I said hey, and I hope she’s doing good."
Mallory was silent for a long moment. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said—
"Yeah. I’ll do that." Mallory swallowed.
They both knew she wouldn’t. Because he wasn’t ready to reach out. And Savannah?
She wasn’t ready to hear his name.
Another stretch of silence.
Then—
"You still traveling for work?"
Chase exhaled, shifting gears. "Yeah,. Actually—I’ll be up that way in a month. I've got a project to scope out."
Mallory’s heart jumped. "Wait, your coming to Asheville?"
"Yeah."
Mallory grinned. "Well, well, well. What a coincidence."
Chase huffed out a laugh. "Mal—"
"I’m just saying," she interrupted, grinning. "You might as well grab a drink with me while you’re in town."
Chase smirked. "You never change."
"And you love me for it."
Chase chuckled. "That’s debatable."
A pause.
Then, softer—“Mal—do me a favor?”
Mallory paused. "Depends on what it is."
Chase exhaled. "Same thing that I asked of you, a year ago—make sure she’s okay."
Mallory’s breath hitched. Because Chase wasn’t asking for updates. He wasn’t asking her to push Savannah in his direction.
He just wanted to know she was alright.
That was all.
Mallory smiled, her chest aching. "Yeah, Montgomery. I can do that."
A pause.
Then—
"Thanks, Mal."
She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
"Anytime."
And for the first time in a year? Chase Montgomery didn’t feel like he was drowning.
And maybe, just maybe...
That meant Savannah Monroe was finally coming up for air, too.