40. Summer
Summer
The breath I exhaled when I found out Felicity was okay—very sick—but okay after her fall could’ve lifted a hot air balloon.
I clasp my hands to stop them from shaking. Which is ridiculous. I’ve known these people since I was seventeen. I’ve eaten at their table and exchanged smiles and laughter with them.
I don’t know why but today feels different.
This isn’t me sneaking through Chase’s window in the middle of the night only to disappear by morning. This is walking through their front door, with Chase, as his … what? Girlfriend? No. Partner? No. Friend? I’m not sure.
“I can see the tension rolling off you in waves,” Chase says.
“I’m totally fine,” I reply, my voice high-pitched.
“You’re fidgeting.”
I flex my hands. “I’m just … the last time I saw her …”
“Hey,” Chase says, taking my elbow and spinning me to face him. He leans in, cradling my face. “I know. But it’s just breakfast, Hayes. Okay?”
I release a long breath. “Okay.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead and my knees go weak. He steps back, knocking twice on their front door before opening it slowly.
“Mom, Dad?”
“In here!” Dan calls out, popping his head through the kitchen archway.
The smell of bacon and fresh brewed coffee reaches me and I inhale deeply, my mouth watering. Chase links our fingers and leads me through. Dan greets me with a warm smile, but there’s exhaustion behind it.
“There they are.” He pulls me into a hug. “Summer. Great to see you.”
“You, too, Dan.”
He releases me and claps Chase on the shoulder. “Son.”
Chase shoots him a tight-lipped smile. “Smells good in here.”
“I’ve managed not to burn anything this time.” Dan laughs. “Come in, come in. Felicity’s been asking about you all morning. She’s set up in the living room.”
We follow him through. Chase’s hand settles on the small of my back, and I lean into him.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I see when we round the corner.
Felicity is on the couch, propped up against a pile of pillows with a thick, knitted blanket draped over her legs, swallowing her whole. There’s an IV stand beside her, connected to a port in her hand. An oxygen cannula loops around her ears and snakes underneath her nose.
She’s so thin. So small.
Her complexion is void of color, her cheekbones sharp. Her silver hair lies limp against her narrow shoulders.
But her eyes. Her eyes are the same.
My mother always said that eyes are windows to the soul, and if someone has a good soul, you’ll know.
Despite Felicity’s condition, she’s bright and sharp, her face splitting with a beaming smile.
“Well, don’t just stand there gawking,” she says. “Come here and give me a hug! Gently, though. I’m held together with thoughts and prayers these days.”
A deep chuckle rumbles from Chase’s chest, and I grin, crossing the room and lowering myself onto the edge of the couch. She takes both my hands in hers, holding me at arm’s length.
“My, my, my,” she says, looking at me with a grin that lights up my heart. “Didn’t you grow to be as pretty as a picture.”
She turns her head, winking at Chase. My cheeks flame.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
She pauses slightly between sentences to catch her breath.
“Pretty good, considering I’m dying.”
My lips pop open, and Chase clears his throat.
Dan sighs from the doorway, turning and disappearing back into the kitchen, returning shortly after with plates in hand, all stacked with bacon, toast, and eggs.
“Oh, he’s so good to me,” she comments, accepting her plate. “He still has a way to go in the kitchen, but he’s not burning things to a crisp anymore.”
Dan tuts before bending down to plant a kiss on the crown of her head.
“She’s very bold, Summer,” he comments.
The gesture sends ripples of affection through me.
“I’ll be back with yours,” Dan says to Chase and me.
Felicity grips her knife and fork, scanning my face. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me the other day … I don’t know what I would have—” She sucks in a rattling breath. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“I’m really glad I was there.”
The corner of her mouth flicks up. “I’m very grateful.”
“I’m sorry I almost passed out on you.”
“You did pass out,” Chase says unhelpfully.
Felicity narrows her eyes at him, and he holds up his hands, smirking.
“He’s always been cheeky, Summer,” she tells me. “Ever since he was a little boy.”
I know, I think to myself.
Dan returns with our plates, and we all settle around Felicity on the couch, breakfast balanced on our laps.
“Now,” she continues, slicing into her buttered toast. “Tell me all about being a superstar.”
Breakfast is full of laughter and nostalgia, recounting memories from senior year.
The day Felicity tried to teach me how to make her famous lime soufflé after me and Chase caught the bus home from school, which I expertly butchered.
The night she caught Chase and Steele sneaking into the kitchen after a party one night and Steele falling asleep in front of the fridge, nursing a half-empty bottle of Jim Beam.
Or the night she woke up to Chase passed out on the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet, half-naked after another party.
Felicity manages a few bites, chewing slowly and resting between each one. The whole time, Chase and Dan watch her like a hawk.
Dan asks about my music, and Felicity asks about my songwriting.
Felicity manages well, but I can see it takes effort. Her eyes drift sometimes, losing focus before she snaps back.
After breakfast, Dan gathers our empty plates and pushes to his feet. “Chase, I need your help with my car.”
“Now?” Chase frowns. “Can’t it wait?”
“It’s been driving me crazy for a week. It’s making a weird noise.”
Chase eyes me, but I nod. “Go,” I tell him softly. “I’m fine here.”
He leans down and presses his lips to my temple. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time,” I tell him.
He holds my gaze for a moment before following Dan toward the garage. Their footsteps fade, and then it’s just us.
Felicity is quiet for a moment before she exhales and turns to me.
“Would you mind helping me sit up a bit? I’m slipping,” she says.
I carefully adjust the pillows behind her until she’s sitting up straight enough to look at me properly. She pants and my brows knit together.
She flicks her fingers. “I’m fine. Just … give me a second.” When she speaks again, her voice is more serious. “I need to talk to you, Summer. And I don’t have much time.” She points to herself—the tubes. “In general.”
My throat tightens. “Felicity—”
“Please let me say this.” Her fingers wrap around mine.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
She takes another breath, the oxygen machine hissing. “These last ten years haven’t been easy on Chase. He’ll never admit it to you, but when you left … something inside him switched off.”
The burn behind my eyes intensifies.
“He stopped doing the things he loved. He gave up UCLA … did he ever tell you why?”
“He hasn’t said much, no …” He dodges the question any time I ask him about it.
“It’s because I got sick. Because we didn’t have the money to pay for my treatments and medications …
he felt like he couldn’t leave me. So, he stayed and got an apprenticeship with Jasper’s father to help pay the bills.
” Her lip wobbles, and the sight leaves me weak-limbed.
“I’ll never forgive myself. Never,” she whispers.
“What I’m trying to say is that my son puts everyone else before himself. ”
I press my lips together to contain the sob itching to break loose.
“But you, Summer. You’ve given him something back.
I know you haven’t been here long, but I’ve seen a change in him.
The spark in his eyes is back—I haven’t seen it since he was a boy.
A lightness. Like he’s finally come back to who he used to be.
” She squeezes my hands. “You did that. You gave me my son back.”
Emotions claw their way up my throat, but I choke them down.
“And I need to tell you something else. Something I probably have no right to say, but I’m dying, so I’m going to say it, anyway.”
I release a dry laugh.
“Please know that everything he ever did was out of love. You must know that, honey. He was eighteen years old, watching the girl he loved get destroyed, and he did the only thing he could morally do.” Her eyes search mine.
“I know it cost you. I know you had to leave before you were ready, and I’m so, so sorry for the pain that caused.
But please don’t hold it against him … he’s carried enough guilt for one lifetime. ”
“I don’t,” I whisper. “It took me a long time, but I understand.”
And I mean it. I do.
She pauses and catches her breath. “Did Chase ever tell you how Dan and I met?”
“No,” I say quietly.
“New Year’s Eve party, 1979. Funnily enough, we were both eighteen.” A distant smile crosses her face. “I saw him across the room and I just knew. Chase is the spitting image of his father when he was younger—I’m sure you get it.”
I chuckle, and she continues. “It was like my soul saw his and said There you are.”
I know the feeling. I do. I knew I would love Chase the moment I saw him. I took one look at the shaggy dark blond hair and the piercing green eyes, and my heart accepted its fate.
He took my breath away.
“Yes,” I admit. “I know that feeling.”
“Well.” She exhales slowly. “It took us fourteen years to get our act together. Fourteen years of missed chances and wrong timing and being too scared to say what we really felt. We dated other people. Moved to different cities. We let every opportunity slip through our fingers.” She shakes her head.
“And then one day, we just … stopped running. Stopped being afraid or coming up with excuses to stop us from getting our shit together—we’ve been together ever since. ”
“You got there in the end.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, fierceness reflected in them. “We wasted fourteen years. Fourteen years we could have had together, gone. Because we were young and stupid and thought we had all the time in the world.”
Her words crack like a whip.
“Time isn’t something we’re guaranteed. We think we have forever, but we don’t.
The hourglass runs out when it runs out, and there’s no warning.
We don’t get second chances.” She grips my hands.
“Don’t make our mistake, honey. Don’t lose any more years to fear or resentment or distance or whatever else the world throws at you. ”
I suck my bottom lip.
She lifts a trembling palm to cup my cheek. “I know you can’t stay.” Her voice cracks. “I know you have a big life out there—much bigger than you’d ever have here. I know you have commitments you can’t walk away from. I’m not asking you to give that up.”
My brows lift as I wait for her to continue.
Her voice is thin as a wisp. “Come back.” Her eyes glisten. “No matter how far the world pulls you. No matter how hard it gets—come back to yourself.”
“Myself?”
She takes my hand and places it over my heart. “Follow this. Always.”
A tear falls free.
“Have you heard of the invisible string theory?” she asks.
“No …”
“It’s destiny.” A small smile graces her lips.
“The universe keeps two people apart until the timing is just right. They cannot come together too soon or they’ll miss each other.
But if they’re too late? Well. They’ll never find their way back at all.
But when everything finally aligns as destiny intended?
That’s when you understand all that time spent searching for your person was never punishment.
It was preparation.” She takes a moment to catch her breath.
“Every moment apart pulls that string tighter and tighter. Every experience—every heartbreak, every wrong turn, every night you lie awake wondering What if?—all of it has been building to this exact moment. And when these two people finally collide? It all makes sense,” she whispers.
“It doesn’t matter how far the string stretches.
It doesn’t matter how much time passes, or how many oceans might separate them.
They will always find their way back to each other. ”
She taps her chest. “You’ll see that person and you’ll know, deep in your bones, you were waiting. Waiting for the string to pull you home.” She looks at me with so much sincerity. “Follow your heart, Summer. Always.”
“Okay,” I whisper, sniffling. “I’ll try.”
“Good.” Air whooshes from her lungs. “That’s all I needed.”
She wipes my cheeks with her thumbs. The gesture is so tender and motherly, I almost break all over again. “I think that’s quite enough crying from both of us. The boys will come back in here and think I’ve been torturing you.”
My laugh is thick and watery.
And when the boys eventually do return and I say what I know will be my final goodbye, I hold Felicity a little longer than necessary. I breathe in her scent and revel in her warmth.
She pats my back weakly. “I’ll see you later, honey.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, pulling away to memorize her face. “For everything.”
Chase lifts his chin. “Be seeing you.”
He then threads our fingers together as we head toward the door. I glance over my shoulder one last time.
Felicity lifts her arm in a small wave. I lift mine in return, her words etched into my ribs and scored into my heart.
Thank you.