Chapter 46 Echoes of Us
We moved onto the dance floor as another song began. His hand settled at my waist, steady and familiar. Mine rested against his shoulder. He led without forcing, confident, natural.
My body remembered him even as my mind tried to stay guarded.
Over the years, we had never fully disappeared from each other’s lives. We texted. Birthday messages. Occasional check-ins. We saw each other at group events, holidays, always with other people around.
I knew he hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in years. I had noticed. I just pretended I hadn’t.
The last two weeks had changed things. Rehearsals. Dinners. Wedding events. Too much proximity. Too many moments.
“You’re tense,” he murmured.
“I’m always tense,” I said quietly.
He smiled. “Fair.”
When the song ended, the feeling in my chest was too full, too sharp. I pulled my hand back gently.
“Thank you. I’m going to step outside for a bit.”
Beyond the lights, the Reynolds’ yard softened into shadows. Gravel paths, trimmed hedges, the hum of conversation fading behind me. I walked slowly, breathing in the cool night.
Footsteps followed.
“Hey,” Nick said gently. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, even though it wasn’t true.
We stood side by side, looking back at the glow of the tents, laughter drifting toward us.
Then he spoke again, quieter. “This is going to sound strange.”
I turned to him.
“I’ve been having dreams,” he said. “For years now. About us.”
My breath caught.
“In them, we’re together,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not casually. Really together. Happy. Like it’s right. Like that’s how things are supposed to be.”
A chill moved through me.
“When I wake up,” he said, “there’s this feeling that something’s missing. Like I woke up into the wrong version of my life.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. My thoughts spiraled too fast to catch.
Was this an echo? A fracture? Something bleeding through from a life only I was supposed to remember?
“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he added quickly. “I can’t explain it.”
He looked at me then, fully. Open. Vulnerable in a way that stripped the air from my lungs.
“I like you, Ashley,” he said quietly. “More than a friend. I have for a long time. I didn’t want to push. But I can’t keep pretending it’s nothing.”
The garden felt suddenly too small.
I took a slow breath.
“Nick… I care about you,” I said quietly. “I really do. But I can’t give you what you’re asking for. Not now.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Hurt. Confusion.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I said immediately. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I’m not ready to open that door. And it wouldn’t be fair to pretend otherwise.”
He searched my face, like he was hoping I’d soften. Like he was waiting for me to change my mind if he just stood there long enough.
“I will wait,” he said.
I shook my head gently. “You shouldn’t.”
His shoulders slumped, hands sliding into his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them. He nodded once, jaw tight, eyes fixed somewhere past me.
“I’m sorry,” I added, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded once, jaw clenched.
I walked away before I could change my mind. Before my body could betray me. I could feel his eyes on my back the entire time.
Back at the hotel, I sent Payton a message.
I’m so sorry for leaving early. I wasn’t feeling well. Tonight was perfect. You were perfect.
Then I went into the bathroom.
I turned the shower to the coldest setting and sank down onto the tile, pulling my knees to my chest as the water crashed over me. The shock stole my breath, but I welcomed it. It grounded me in my body when my thoughts threatened to tear me apart.
Memories pressed in. Ones I worked hard to keep buried. My past. The years I didn’t talk about. And the child I avoided thinking about, because thinking about him hurt too much.
Tonight, the thoughts refused to stay away.
My chest ached. My throat closed. My nose burned as tears spilled freely, mixing with the icy water until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
Today, I had rejected Nick.
And with that choice, I had also let go of the possibility that my child would ever come back
to me in this life.
I pressed my forehead to my knees and let myself cry, silently wishing that wherever he ended up, it would be somewhere warm. Somewhere safe. Somewhere he would be loved the way he deserved.
Even if it wasn’t with me.