Chapter 31
NATE
Igot to the fountain a few minutes early. Instead of playing it cool, I looked around in every direction, unable to stop myself. Any time I saw a woman around the right age, I wondered if it was her.
Emma.
The fountain sprayed in steady arcs, sunlight catching in the mist. People moved everywhere, tourists with cameras, joggers weaving through the crowd, and parents chasing kids too close to the water’s edge.
Part of me kept wanting to check my phone, just to make sure she was still coming. I wasn’t some nervous teenager about to get stood up for prom but I checked my watch anyway.
Still early. Okay. Breathe, man.
It didn’t even matter that she wasn’t supposed to be here just yet. My eyes still kept drifting to every woman who passed within twenty feet of the fountain. There was a blonde, but she ran over to a child and scooped him up, laughing as she buried her face in his hair.
I sighed. Obviously not her.
A few minutes later, a brunette strolled into view and I thought that might be her, but the next thing I knew, she approached a tour group and started speaking rapid fire in a different language. Probably not her either.
The next few were too old. Too young. Too confident about who they were looking for or too distracted.
Every time someone slowed down even slightly, my pulse kicked up before settling again.
It was ridiculous. I didn’t have the first idea of what Emma looked like.
She could be anyone. That was the whole point of finally meeting her after five years of knowing someone without ever really knowing them.
She’d been a constant in my life in a way almost nothing else had. Through work. Through family disasters. Through everything.
Emma had always been there.
Trapped behind a screen.
A fantasy. A dream just out of reach. And now?
Now Kate existed and I hated how simple the math had become, because if it came down to it and I had to choose, I already knew what I’d do.
I’d choose Kate.
The truth sat heavy in my chest, utterly undeniable. I didn’t want to pick apart what that said about me as a person, but Emma was, in a way, already in my past. A part of my history.
Kate was my present and my future. I knew that now, but I still exhaled slowly and checked my watch again.
Noon. Right on time.
I scanned the crowd, trying not to look like a man waiting for his life to change, but everyone around me just kept moving. Laughing. Talking. Existing like this was just another Sunday in the park.
Another minute passed and I pulled out my phone, checking the message thread. The location drop sat there, clear as day. The fountain. Noon. Exactly what we agreed to.
I double-checked anyway, making sure the location I’d sent was correct, but it was. Frustration bubbled up from deep inside. It was possible she was just late, but after how many times we’d planned to meet and she’d had to cancel, it was also possible that she had flaked out again.
When I looked up again, my heart stopped.
Kate stood across the path, staring at me like she couldn’t quite make sense of what she was seeing. For a few long, drawn-out moments, neither of us moved, but then I took a few steps closer to her on autopilot, the cylinders in my brain completely misfiring.
“Kate? What are you doing here?” I asked.
She blinked hard. “What are you doing here?”
There was something strange in her expression. Confusion, sure, but something else too. Something that ran much deeper and, strangely, looked a little like fear. Like someone who’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“I’m, uh,” I hesitated before I finally managed to finish the sentence. “I’m waiting for someone.”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Me too.”
Well, yeah. I guess that makes sense. She’s from here, after all. Kate had a whole life here. A life outside of me, outside of Chicago, forced engagements, and stolen kisses.
“I’m waiting for my…” I trailed off, then forced the words out after clearing my throat. “I’m waiting for my girlfriend.”
I hated the way it sounded. Fuck, I even hated how wrong it felt to say it to her, but Kate just nodded, like she’d half-expected me to say that.
“Oh. Right.” She swallowed, her eyes darting this way and that, but she sighed and then looked back at me. “I’m meeting someone too, but I’m just a little late. He must’ve left already.”
I glanced around again, but something about this suddenly felt really, really off. “You were meeting him here?”
She frowned. “Yes.”
“In this exact spot?”
Her hesitation was brief, but real. She chewed her lip for a second before she sighed again, jamming her hand through her hair and shaking her head. “Yes. Yeah. Here. Definitely here. He sent me a pin.”
She pulled out her phone, turning the screen toward me, and there it was. Seeing that message thread on her phone hit me like a physical blow. The layout. The wording. The timestamps. The location pin sitting right there in the middle of the screen.
It was horribly, unmistakably familiar. In that moment, my entire world tilted sideways. My stomach dropped to somewhere near my shoes and realization slammed into me, fast and absolute.
At the exact same moment, Kate’s expression changed. Confusion shattered into understanding and everything clicked into place. She dropped her phone and it hit the pavement with a dull, traitorous clack that seemed way too loud for the middle of a crowded park.
I took another step toward her before I even realized I was moving. My head felt full of static. Thoughts crashed into each other too fast to sort through, but underneath it all was something hotter. A very deep pinch of anger that practically blinded me.
“Emma?” I asked, my voice coming out low and tight.
Kate went pale, suddenly looking so completely drained it was like someone had pulled the color right out of her.
“CB?” she croaked, her eyes wide.
And that was it, the confirmation I hadn’t even realized I’d been waiting for. This hadn’t just been some weird twist of fate where she’d picked up a phone someone had dropped—or whatever other explanations I’d been desperately trying to come up with.
Kate was Emma. Emma was Kate.
My brain rejected that truth outright. Just flat out refusing to process the information.
Kate made a strangled sound, stared at me for another beat, then bent over to scoop up her phone, spun on her heels, and ran. Actually fucking ran. Sprinting across the path like some deranged, psychopathic serial killer was after her.
“Kate!” I barked.
People turned. A jogger nearly collided with me as I pushed forward, but I didn’t stop. “Kate!”
She didn’t slow down. Shit, she didn’t even look back. I took off after her in earnest then, shoving through the crowd, dodging tourists, strollers, and a guy with a hot dog cart. The whole world seemed like it wanted to slow me down and keep me from getting to Kate.
My heart pounded so hard, it felt like it might crack a rib. My thoughts were a mess, anger, disbelief, humiliation, and something else tangled in there too. She darted down a path and I lost her for a second.
Holy fuck, I didn’t know she was this fast.
“Kate!” I picked up speed, rounding the corner just in time to see her sprinting toward the street. I followed, gaining on her at times, but she knew this city way better than I did.
She didn’t stop until she reached the hotel, shoving through the revolving doors like the building itself might save her. I went after her, my pulse roaring in my ears and my muscles burning.
She was halfway across the lobby by the time I got inside. “Kate!”
She glanced back that time, her eyes wide and wild. Then she bolted for the elevators. I was ten steps behind her when she stabbed the button. Five at most when the doors opened, but they slid shut right in my face when I finally reached the car she was in.
For half a second after, I just stood there, staring at my own reflection in the polished brass doors like an idiot. Then I jabbed the button hard enough to hurt my finger.
“Come on,” I muttered. “Come on.”
The elevator took forever. Or maybe it just felt like forever because my brain had decided now was a great time to replay the last five years of my life like some kind of cruel highlight reel.
Her emails. Her voice on the phone. The way she teased me. How she always pushed back just hard enough. How well she knows me.
Kate. Fuck, of course it’s Kate. Of course, it’s been her all along.
The woman got under my skin like it was her full-time job. She argued with me for sport and I’d been half in love with her while being fully in love with someone else who turned out to be—
Also Kate.
The elevator dinged. I stepped in, hit the button for our floor, and tried not to lose my mind during the ride up. By the time I reached the suite, my hands were shaking. I pushed the door open so hard, I nearly took it off its hinges.
Kate was already there, pacing like a caged animal while running her hands through her hair so aggressively, it stuck out in every direction. She spun as soon as I’d kicked the door shut behind me, my chest heaving and my head spinning.
“We need to talk about this!” she shouted, her voice cracking on the last word.
“We do,” I said, somehow sounding calmer than I felt.
I also stepped toward her slowly, scared she might bolt again if I moved too fast. Approaching her like a wild animal seemed prudent in this moment.
She started talking so fast, it was almost like she wasn’t even aware I was moving toward her. Her words tumbled over each other and her cheeks were completely pale. “I didn’t know it was you. I mean, obviously, I didn’t know it was you because why would it be you? Five years, Nate, five—”
A few strides later, I’d closed the distance between us, but I wasn’t really sure what to feel right then. Kate stopped rambling the second I reached for her, instead just staring up at me with those whiskey-colored eyes so wide, it looked painful.
Still moving so, so fucking slowly, I took her face in my hands and just looked at her. I looked into her eyes and at her mouth, at the planes of her jaw, and the hammering of her pulse underneath it. This was my Emma. My Kate. The same person.
God, I feel dumb. Actually, no. Astronomically dumb is more accurate.
Five years.
Five fucking years in love with my enemy.
“In my defense, you never sent me a picture,” I said quietly.
Her mouth fell open. “In your defense?”
I didn’t bother responding or trying to explain. Instead, I just kissed her. I didn’t plan to. I didn’t even think about it and I definitely didn’t weigh the pros and cons like a sane person might’ve in this situation.
But me? I had no sanity left. I just leaned in and did it, pressing my mouth to hers and crushing her to me like I would never let go.
Her lips were warm, familiar, and suddenly so fucking new all at once, but as they sealed against mine, something in my chest finally snapped into place like a piece that had been floating loose for years.
I pulled back, stared at her for another moment, and then kissed her again. Because apparently, that was the only logical response to discovering the love of your life, your former sworn enemy, and the woman you were engaged to were the same person.