~~~~~ Emery’s POV ~~~~~
“Who was she?” I asked quietly.
“I mean…
the girl who kissed you.”
Calloway’s smile faded slowly, the playfulness from a moment ago settling into something more careful, more deliberate.
She shifted on the couch, angling herself to face me fully, like she wanted to give the question the weight it deserved.
Outside, a car rolled slowly down the street, its headlights sweeping briefly across the living room wall before disappearing again, leaving the room quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator down the hall.
“Her name’s Novera,” she said.
“We dated.
Two years ago, before college.
It ended badly—my choice, not hers, which she’s never really forgiven me for.”
“Badly how?”
“I was going through a lot with my dad that year: the Sweden academy offer, the pressure…
all of it.
I wasn’t good at letting anyone close during that time, and Novera wanted more than I was capable of giving her.
I ended it over a phone call, which…”
She let out a small, humorless laugh.
“I know.
I know how that sounds.
It wasn’t my finest moment.”
She looked away for a second, old guilt still lingering behind her eyes.
“She goes to Wrenfield now.
I didn’t know she was even in town until she showed up at the rink today, completely unannounced.
She said she’d seen the photos online and wanted to find out for herself if they were true.”
“And then she kissed you.”
“And then she kissed me.” Calloway held my gaze, refusing to look away despite how hard the admission clearly was for her.
“Before I could stop her.
Before I even fully understood what was happening.”
She swallowed.
“I know ‘she kissed me and I didn’t immediately shove her away’ isn’t exactly a great defense, but I promise you, Emery…
I wasn’t kissing her back.
I just stood there in shock for a couple of seconds, and then you were standing in the doorway.
Everything happened so fast that I didn’t even get the chance to explain before you had already decided what it meant.”
I sat with that for a long moment, turning it over carefully, weighing it against everything I had actually seen with my own eyes—her hands motionless at her sides, not pulling Novera closer, not one single moment of reciprocating, just frozen, caught entirely off guard by something she hadn’t asked for.
“Why didn’t you push her away sooner?” I asked, not accusatory, just genuinely needing to understand the two seconds that had cost me an entire afternoon of crying in front of my friends.
Calloway lowered her eyes.
“Because I was surprised, and because some old, stupid part of me that used to care about her went quiet for two seconds instead of doing what it should have done immediately.” Calloway’s voice cracked slightly on the admission, more honest than anything she’d given me yet.
“That’s not an excuse.
I know it isn’t.
But it’s the truth.”
She looked back at me.
“And I’d rather you be angry at the truth than keep hurting yourself over something that isn’t real.”
I looked at her for a long moment.
“Do you still have feelings for her?”
The question came out smaller than I meant it to, more vulnerable than I wanted to let myself be, but I needed the answer too badly to dress it up in anything braver.
I hated how much the question exposed, how much it revealed about everything I had been carrying since that rink door, but I asked it anyway, because pretending not to need the answer would have been its own kind of lie.
Calloway didn’t hesitate.
“No.
Not even a little.”
Her answer came without the slightest pause.
“What I felt in those two seconds wasn’t love, Emery.
It was surprise…
old memories…
and guilt over how badly I handled ending things with her.”
She slowly reached for my hand, giving me every chance to pull away if I wanted to.
I didn’t.
Her fingers settled gently over mine.
“You’re the one I keep looking for excuses to see.” Visit g.com for the full chapter.
A faint smile touched her lips.
“You’re the one who made me want to actually learn chemistry instead of just surviving it.”
She squeezed my hand gently.
“Novera is a mistake I made two years ago.”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“You’re not a mistake.”
Her voice softened.
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I came to this school.”
“And I’m not going to let two seconds of shock ruin that…
if you’ll let me prove it.”
I felt something in my chest finally, fully unclench, the tight, defensive knot I had been carrying since that rink door loosening for the first time all day.
“I believe you,” I said quietly and meant it, the words landing lighter than I expected them to after carrying their opposite for hours.
“Yeah?” A hopeful smile appeared on her face.
“Yeah.” I turned my hand over beneath hers, lacing our fingers together properly instead of just letting her hand rest on top of mine.
“I still hate that I saw it.
I still hate that it happened.”
“But…” I looked into her eyes.
“I believe you.”
Her shoulders relaxed so visibly that it almost made my own chest ache.
She let out a slow breath she seemed to have been holding all afternoon.
She reached up with her free hand and brushed her thumb gently along my cheekbone, the same unhurried tenderness from earlier, except now it felt like relief instead of nerves.
“I was so scared you weren’t going to answer me.”
A tiny laugh escaped her.
“Seven calls, Emery.
I’ve never called anyone seven times in a row before.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I saw them,” I admitted quietly.
“The calls.
The texts.”
“I just…”
I looked down at our joined hands.
“I needed time before I could read them without falling apart.”
“I understand that.” She stared at my face for a long moment, something soft and searching in her expression.
Then she smiled.
“For what it’s worth, I meant what I said earlier about you being my girlfriend.”
My heart skipped.
“Fake or real…” She shrugged lightly.
“I don’t really care what we call it anymore.”
“I just don’t want to lose this.
Whatever this is.”
“It doesn’t feel fake,” I said quietly, the admission costing me something even now, even after everything.
“It hasn’t felt fake in a long time.”
“No,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper now, the distance between us shrinking without either of us fully deciding to close it.
“It really hasn’t.”
She leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to stop her, to pull back, to say this wasn’t the moment, but I didn’t want to stop her, hadn’t wanted to since the second she walked into this living room wrapped in a towel and looking at me like I was something worth coming home to.
My eyes slipped closed just before her lips brushed mine.
The kiss was gentle at first, almost hesitant, as if she was still afraid I might disappear the moment she touched me.
Her lips were warm from the shower, carrying the faint taste of peppermint and tea, and I caught the soft scent of her shampoo as she moved closer, clean and lightly floral.
My heartbeat stumbled hard against my ribs.
I felt her fingers tighten around mine—not enough to hurt, just enough to reassure herself that I was really there.
Without thinking, I leaned into her, closing the small distance between us until there was nothing left but the quiet warmth of her and the soft hum of the apartment around us.
It wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t desperate.
It was careful and patient.
The kind of kiss that quietly promised…
*I’m here.*
*I’m not going anywhere.*
Our breaths mingled in the small space between us.
She let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.
“I really thought I’d ruined everything,” she admitted softly.
“Watching you walk away from me…”
She smiled weakly.
“I’ve never been that scared in my life.”
“Not even before a championship game.”
“You almost did ruin it,” I said it honestly, no bite left in the words, just truth.
“But I’m glad you came after me instead of letting me walk away.”
“I’ll always come running after you.
I need you to know that.”
She pulled back just enough to look at me properly, something fiercely sincere behind her eyes.
“Whatever happens…”
“Whoever shows up unannounced…”
“Whatever my dad thinks…”
She squeezed my hand again.
“I’ll choose you.”
“Every single time.
For as long as you’ll let me.”
I felt my eyes sting, a different kind of tears than the ones from earlier that afternoon, and let myself lean into her.
I rested my head against her shoulder, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath my ear.
“Wednesday,” I said after a while, remembering the reason Priya had actually come to find me in the first place.
“Wrenfield.
Priya told me.”
Calloway went still for a second, then let out a soft sigh.
“I forgot I hadn’t told you that part yet.
Yeah.
Biggest game of the season.
My dad’s flying in for it.”
“Are you ready?”
“I don’t know.
I was supposed to spend today thinking about hockey.”
A small smile tugged at her lips.
“Instead, I spent the whole afternoon thinking I’d lost you.”
She pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head, unhurried, like she had all the time in the world now that the crisis had passed.
“But I think I can actually focus now.”
I tilted my head to look at her.
“Why?”
“Because I know you’re still here.”
“I’m still here,” I whispered and felt her arms tighten slightly around me at the words, like she needed to hear them said out loud as much as I had needed to hear everything else tonight.
We stayed like that for a long while, tangled together on the couch, the whole terrible, wonderful day finally settling into something that felt, against every odd stacked against us, like it had ended exactly the way it was supposed to.
My phone buzzed once against my thigh.
Priya.
I smiled and sent a quick reply.
*Emery: I’m okay.
Better than okay, actually.
I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.*
A second later, another message popped up.
*Priya: !!!!!
I knew it.
Tell Jordan she owes me five dollars.*
I laughed quietly against Calloway’s shoulder.
“What was so funny?” she asked, her voice already sleepy.
I just smiled and shook my head.
“Nothing, really.”
I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
Then I smiled and hugged her a little tighter.
Somehow, after everything today, this was exactly where I wanted to be.
This time, I didn’t want to let go.