Chapter 25
Nathan
The door clicks shut behind me, the sound echoing.
I lean against it for a moment, hand still on the knob, trying to steady the mess in my chest. The smell of sugar and espresso still lingers on me—Ella. I can still smell her. She’s the scent of warmth I cannot even begin to explain.
I should have gone in. God, I wanted to. Still do.
But the moment her door closed, the guilt came crawling back. Not the simple kind — the kind that gnaws at your ribs, whispering that you have no right to want anything, not when you’ve already lost everything that ever mattered.
I walk into my apartment. My phone buzzes.
Taylor Pierce: I sent you an email. I think you’re going to want to see this.
I pull up my inbox. Nothing new.
I refresh—still nothing.
I tap the screen again, too fast, too distracted… and the sort order flips from newest to oldest.
And I see them. Old emails between Maddison and me.
New Constellation.
Re: New Constellation.
The air goes thin.
I haven’t seen those subject lines in over a decade, but my fingers still remember typing them. My chest pulls. Against every rational thought, I click.
Her words fill the screen — frozen, like artifacts.
Inbox: StarGirl17
Hey babe,
Dad’s on full patrol. This is my secret line. Delete after you read.
I can’t sleep without replaying the sound of your heart under my ear.
– Maddison
I swallow hard and scroll down.
Sent: Nathan Alexander-Reign
I’ll never delete you. I’m printing every word in my head until I’m back with you.
PS: You’re still my North Star.
– Nathan
Each word pulls at something I buried years ago. I can hear her laugh, see her handwriting on notebook paper, smell her perfume in my car.
My pulse quickens. I scroll further… to the one that changed everything.
Dad’s flying to Dallas for a deposition. Gone 36 hours. It’s our only shot before I leave. Saturday night. 11 p.m. I’ll slip out.
I stop breathing.
The cursor blinks at the bottom of the screen like it’s waiting for me to respond, as if time is frozen and dares me to write back.
My hand trembles when I reach for the whiskey bottle on the counter. I pour a double. Then another.
The first burns going down. The second numbs everything else.
I close the laptop halfway and sink into the couch, the glass heavy in my hand. The city lights blur through the window, the same way memories do when I try to keep them out.
I stare at the ceiling.
And then, slowly, the world starts to tilt.
The room fades, the light dims, and somewhere between guilt and exhaustion, I drift…right back to that moment.
The rain beaded off the hood of my car as I idled at the curb outside her house. The porch light glowed, but every interior window was dark. Maddison’s house never looked so foreign.
The front door cracked open. She stepped onto the porch in gray sweats and crossed the lawn barefoot, quiet as moonlight, opened the passenger door, and climbed in.
She smelled like something I could only describe as my dreams. Instantly, our lips crashed together, and we kissed until I was lightheaded, only pulling away to breathe each other in.
Maddison’s chin started to tremble. She folded forward, hands fisting my hoodie, and sobbed into my chest. I wrapped her up, aggressively trying to fight the lump in my throat.
“God, I miss you,” I whispered into her hair.
She lifted tear-glossed eyes.
She kissed me again, soft, urgent, then traced my jaw, threading her fingers through my hair. “I miss your lips… your hair… everything.”
Tears blurred the dashboard lights. “What are we gonna do?” My voice splintered. “This isn’t over. I love you, Maddison.”
She drew back just enough to see me, determination sparking through the red in her eyes. “Next year I’ll be eighteen. He can’t control me, can’t control us.”
She raised her right hand, pinky extended, shaking but certain. “Pinky-swear you’ll come find me.”
I curled my finger around hers, sealing us like a knot that wouldn’t come loose. “I promise, Maddi. I’ll find you.”
We held the promise until her porch light flicked twice, her mom’s silent alarm.
Maddison exhaled and pressed one last kiss to my knuckles.
I lifted her chin and gave her one last kiss before she slipped back into the night.
Every step she took away, I felt emptier inside, hollow.
Suddenly, she stopped, turned back, and said, “Promise me you’ll find her, Nathan. ”
A sharp chime slices through the dark.
I jolt awake on the couch, heart hammering, the dream still clinging to me like smoke.
The city comes back into focus beyond the window. The half-closed laptop on the coffee table. The empty glass in my hand.
Another chime.
I blink, my eyes burning, and look at the screen.
New Message.
From: Taylor Pierce
My pulse picks up before I even open it.
I sit forward, the room suddenly too quiet, and flip the laptop fully open.
The email loads.
Nathan,
Something just came in.
It could be nothing.
It’s a sighting in Redmond, two towns over.
Fits the description.
My fingers hover over the trackpad.
A heaviness arrives before I can name it.
I reread it. Then again.
The fog in my head evaporates all at once.
I’m on my feet before I realize I’ve stood, the whiskey forgotten on the table, the past falling away like a bad dream.
The first sighting in a long time…
Something has changed.
And whatever it is—
It’s finally pointing somewhere.