Chapter 28
Author's Note
While writing this chapter, I had Lana Del Rey's Cinnamon Girl playing on repeat the entire time.
There's something about the painful softness of that song, the aching vulnerability in it, that perfectly matched the emotions I felt while writing these scenes. The loneliness, the longing, the quiet heartbreak between all these characters... it just fit.
So if you want the full emotional experience while reading this chapter, I highly recommend putting that song on in the background.
I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Aria's POV
The back door clicked shut softly behind her.
Aria stepped out onto Parker's deck and pulled the door closed the rest of the way, giving the conversation inside as much privacy as possible.
Even through the glass, she could feel the weight of it.
The ending of something.
Or maybe not an ending.
Maybe just two people finally saying out loud what they had both already known for a while.
She wrapped her arms loosely around herself as she moved toward the railing, staring out into the dark backyard illuminated only by the soft glow of the porch light.
The air was cooler now.
Still.
Peaceful in a way the inside of the house definitely wasn't.
A second later, the door opened again behind her.
Parker stepped out quietly, letting it shut behind him before leaning back against it with a long exhale.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
They both knew exactly what was happening inside.
And neither of them knew how to feel about it.
"You alright?" Parker asked finally.
Aria let out a small breath through her nose.
"That's a loaded question."
That pulled the faintest ghost of a smirk from him.
"Fair enough."
Silence settled again.
Parker stepped forward after a moment, coming to stand beside her at the railing.
"She's really leaving," he said quietly.
Aria nodded once.
"Yeah."
Something about the way he said it made her glance sideways at him.
His eyes stayed on the yard.
Focused somewhere far away.
And suddenly...
She saw it.
Not just concern.
Not just protectiveness.
Something softer.
Something deeper.
Her brows pulled together slightly.
"Oh no," she murmured.
That finally made him look at her.
"What?"
"You like her."
Parker blinked once.
Then huffed softly under his breath, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.
"Well," he muttered, "that sounds bad when you say it like that."
Aria stared at him for half a second before laughing quietly despite herself.
"You do."
He leaned his forearms against the railing, shaking his head slightly.
"I don't know what the hell happened," he admitted.
That honesty softened her immediately.
"I think somewhere along the way," he continued quietly, "She just started holding my attention."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"And now she's hurting, and all I can think about is fixing it for her."
Aria's expression softened.
"That's dangerous."
"Yeah," he agreed immediately. "I figured that part out already."
A faint smile touched her lips before fading again.
Parker exhaled slowly.
"She's determined to leave."
"That doesn't surprise me."
"No," he admitted. "Me neither."
He glanced back toward the house briefly.
"I asked her to stay."
Aria looked at him.
"And?"
"She said if she stays, she'll keep waiting for him to choose her."
That hit harder than Aria expected.
Because she understood it.
Deeply.
Parker looked back out toward the dark yard again.
"And honestly?" he added quietly. "I think she deserves better than waiting around for somebody who can't fully give her what she needs."
Aria swallowed back a painful sound that tried to escape.
There was irony in that statement.
Painful irony.
Because some part of her wondered if she deserved that too.
Parker glanced sideways at her after a moment.
"So," he said carefully, "how are things with you two?"
Aria let out a slow breath.
Complicated didn't even begin to cover it.
"He's staying with me," she said.
Parker nodded once.
"As friends," she added firmly.
That made his mouth twitch slightly.
"Right."
Aria shot him a look.
"I'm serious."
"I know you are."
She leaned back against the railing slightly, looking out into the darkness again.
"He's more himself now."
The words felt strange to say out loud.
"But not fully," she added quickly. "There are still pieces missing. There are things he remembers and things he doesn't."
A pause.
"But it's Chase."
That part mattered.
She could feel it now.
In the way he spoke.
The way he looked at her.
The way pieces of him surfaced naturally instead of feeling forced.
It wasn't Will pretending to be Chase anymore.
It was Chase trying to understand who he had become after everything that happened to him.
And somehow...
That was harder for her to except.
Because now the hope felt real.
Dangerously real.
Parker studied her carefully.
"You scared?"
She laughed softly under her breath.
"Terrified."
Honest.
Immediate.
Because she was.
Not of him.
Of what came next.
Of opening herself back up to something that could destroy her all over again.
"I love him," she admitted quietly.
Her throat tightened around the words.
"But I'm not doing this halfway."
Parker stayed quiet, listening.
"If he wants any chance at rebuilding this with me," she continued, "then he has to get help."
That made Parker's expression sharpen slightly with approval.
"What kind of help?"
"I'm calling an old friend tomorrow."
Aria straightened slightly.
"Her name's Dr. Naomi Bennett. She specializes in severe trauma recovery. PTSD. Memory fragmentation. Identity reconstruction after prolonged trauma."
Parker blinked.
"That sounds intense."
"It is."
Her voice steadied.
"Because this is intense."
There was no denying that anymore.
Not after the panic attacks.
Not after the memory breaks.
Not after hearing what had been done to him.
"He needs real treatment," she said. "Not just people dancing around him hoping time fixes it."
Parker nodded slowly.
"And if he won't go?"
Aria's jaw tightened slightly.
"Then I won't do this."
That answer came immediately.
Certain.
Clear.
"I love him enough to help him," she said quietly. "But I love myself enough to not be willing to drown beside him."
That sentence settled heavily between them.
Because Parker understood exactly what she meant.
She exhaled slowly, rubbing her hands together against the chill in the air.
"I'm not asking him to become who he used to be," she admitted softly.
"That man's gone. Even if every memory came back tomorrow, he still went through years of trauma that changed him."
A pause.
"But I need him stable enough to know who he is before he starts making life changing decisions."
Parker tilted his head slightly.
"Meaning you."
"Meaning all of it," she corrected quietly.
"Emily. Me. Himself."
Her eyes drifted toward the house.
Toward the conversation happening inside.
"He can't keep trying to build a future while he's still mentally trapped between two identities."
That truth sat heavy.
Parker was quiet for a long moment before finally saying softly,
"You still love him like crazy, don't you?"
Aria's chest tightened immediately.
She smiled sadly.
"Unfortunately."
That pulled a quiet laugh from him.
Then her expression softened again.
"But loving somebody doesn't mean you stop holding them accountable."
Parker nodded slowly.
"No," he agreed. "It doesn't."
Inside the house, muffled voices rose faintly for a moment before settling again.
Aria looked toward the door instinctively.
Her chest tightened.
Because despite everything...
She hurt for Emily too.
And maybe that was the cruelest part of all this.
Nobody here had loved halfway.
That was why everything hurt so much now.
Parker's POV
Parker watched Aria stare through the glass door toward the living room, toward the conversation still unfolding inside, and something heavy settled deeper into his chest.
Everybody was losing something tonight.
That seemed to be the theme of this entire mess.
Loss.
Different shapes.
Different people.
Same ache.
He leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms loosely as the cool night air moved around them, but his thoughts were nowhere near the deck anymore.
They were inside.
With Emily.
They had been all night.
Hell, they had been for days now.
He didn't know exactly when it happened.
That was the problem.
There hadn't been one big moment.
No lightning strike.
No dramatic realization.
It had happened slowly.
Quietly.
Like water wearing down stone.
He started noticing little things first.
The way she always thanked people, even when she was the one carrying the heavier burden.
The way she checked on everyone else before herself.
The way she held herself together even when she was visibly falling apart inside.
And somewhere in the middle of all that...
He started caring too much.
Now here he was, standing outside his own damn house trying not to think about the fact that the woman he wanted to ask to stay was packing her life into a suitcase.
And the worst part?
He couldn't even blame her for leaving.
"She's gonna go," he said quietly, mostly to himself.
Aria glanced toward him briefly but didn't interrupt.
Because she already knew.
Parker rubbed a hand over his jaw slowly, staring out into the dark yard.
He wanted to stop Emily.
God, he wanted to.
Some reckless part of him wanted to walk back inside, take her by the shoulders, and tell her not to get on that plane tomorrow.
Tell her she didn't have to go home alone.
Tell her she could stay here.
With him.
That he would take care of her until she could breathe again.
But he wouldn't do that.
Because wanting something and what was best for someone were not always the same thing.
And Emily deserved better than becoming emotionally dependent on the next person, while trying to save herself from heartache.
Even if that person was him.
He exhaled slowly.
"It's probably the right thing," he admitted quietly.
Aria tilted her head slightly.
"For her to leave?"
"Yeah."
The word tasted bitter.
"She needs distance from him. From all of this."
A pause.
"And honestly, Chase needs to get his head on straight before he drags anybody else deeper into this mess."
That wasn't anger.
Not really.
More like exhausted honesty.
Parker loved Chase like a brother.
Always would.
But right now?
Right now Chase was standing in the center of an emotional hurricane tearing through everybody around him whether he meant to or not.
And Parker needed him to get it together.
Not just for Aria.
Especially for Aria.
However, it was for Emily too
His gaze shifted toward her quietly.
She looked tired.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like she had been carrying grief for so long she no longer knew what life felt like without it sitting on her shoulders.
That did something ugly to his chest too.
Because he cared about her.
Not romantically.
Never that.
But deeply.
Like family.
Like someone he would go to war for without thinking twice.
And after hearing what Chase remembered...
After seeing the state he came back in...
Parker worried about what all this was going to do to her too.
"You know you don't have to carry this by yourself, right?" he said quietly.
Aria looked at him.
"I know."
"You sure?"
A small smile touched her mouth.
"You're literally standing out here giving me therapy while my not so dead husband and his wife emotionally destroy each other in your living room."
That pulled a short laugh out of him despite everything.
"Fair point."
Her smile faded softly after.
"But seriously," he added, more grounded now, "if this gets too heavy... if he gets too heavy..."
He let the sentence hang there.
She understood anyway.
"I'll ask for help," she said quietly.
Parker nodded once.
Because that mattered.
A lot.
Inside the house, movement shifted faintly through the curtains.
Parker's chest tightened instinctively.
Emily.
The thought of her leaving tomorrow already sat wrong in him.
Too wrong.
He barely knew what to do with the feeling.
Which irritated the hell out of him, honestly.
Because the timing was awful.
The situation was worse.
And the last thing Emily needed right now was another emotionally complicated man projecting his need to protect her onto her healing process.
So he kept his mouth shut.
Even if every instinct in him screamed not to.
"She deserves somebody who chooses her first, last and always," he said quietly.
Aria looked toward him again.
"And you think that could be you?"
That question caught him off guard.
Not because of what she asked.
Because he didn't actually know the answer.
Parker stared out into the darkness for a long moment before answering honestly.
"I think," he said slowly, "that if she gave me the chance... I'd spend every day trying."
That truth surprised even him a little.
Because he meant it.
Completely.
Aria's expression softened.
"That's a dangerous thing to say about a woman who's heartbroken."
"I know."
"And you still feel it anyway?"
Parker huffed quietly under his breath.
"Unfortunately."
That earned him another faint smile.
Then both of them fell quiet again.
Parker leaned his elbows against the railing, staring out into the night while the weight of everything settled heavier in his chest.
Emily leaving was best for everybody.
Best for Chase.
Best for Aria.
Best for the healing that still needed to happen.
He knew that logically.
But emotionally?
Emotionally, he hated it.
Because some selfish part of him had already started imagining what it would look like if she stayed.
Morning coffee in his kitchen.
Her laugh carrying through the house.
The sadness slowly leaving her eyes over time.
Maybe one day looking at him the way she looked at Will.
That thought alone made him feel guilty as hell.
Because she was still grieving.
And Chase was still his friend.
But feelings did not care about timing.
They just happened.
Messy.
Inconvenient.
Human.
Parker closed his eyes briefly before exhaling through his nose.
He would let her go.
If that was what she needed, he would let her go.
But that did not mean he would stop worrying about her.
And it definitely did not mean he was going to disappear.
"You know," Aria said quietly beside him, "you've got that look."
Parker frowned slightly.
"What look?"
"The one where you're pretending you're okay with something when you're absolutely not."
That made him laugh softly under his breath.
"Damn. Is it that obvious?"
"To me?" she replied. "Yeah."
He shook his head slightly.
Then finally admitted the truth out loud.
"I don't want her to go."
The words sat heavily in the night air.
Real.
Honest.
Painfully simple.
Aria looked at him for a long moment before saying softly,
"Then maybe you need to make sure she understands that this goodbye isn't forever."
And somehow...
That gave him just enough hope to survive the night.