2

In a town like hers, rumors ran faster than cars on the highway.

You could sneeze in the morning and have five different versions of why by noon. So, it was no surprise that within days of her return, whispers of Delilah Hart floated through the street like perfume.

“She’s back.”

“That girl who broke Chase Monroe's heart.”

“She ran off to some rich guy abroad, right? Got engaged and everything. ”

“she’s gusty coming back. Honestly she's a bitch. ”

Everyone had something to say.

And none of it was quiet.

Chase had always been the golden boy… sweet, respectful, the kind of man parents prayed their daughter would marry. He used to smile at everyone. Used to hold doors open and help old women cross the street. He had charm, Softness.

They all adored him.

Who wouldn't?

And her?

She had disappeared.

Left him.

Left everything.

And the only thing worse than heartbreak in a small town… was scandal.

Delilah know the reunion was going to be a lond day. People would stare. They would whisper behind hands, with half-curios, half-judgemental eyes. Some would pretend to smile, others wouldn't even bother.

That's why she took her time getting ready.

She didn't want to be the first one there, but also didn't want to be the last.

Ava has already texted, saying she'd head straight there from work.

Lucky her.

She had a job. A place to be.

Delilah didn't.

She hadn't figured that part out yet… whether she wanted to start over or take over her father's busines like everyone expected. Lately, she just sat on her balcony, watching the sky changing colors and wondering how to breathe without guilt weighing down every inhale.

She stood now in front of her full-length mirror.

Her bedroom door was open, soft lights slipping in. The silence around her was thick, like even the walls were holding her breath.

This was the seventh dress she had tried. One clung too tight. Another made her look too soft. The red one… too loud. The black one, too cold. Nothing felt right.

She stared at her reflection. Her long clack hair was brushed out, cascading down her back like silk. Her body looked stronger now. More defined. Tiny waist, Round hips, Long leg. The kind that made people stare and assume you had everything together.

But inside?

She still felt like the girl, who's cried into her pillow every night in another country, Wondering if he hated her.

Delilah turned from the dresses and reached for something else… something that felt more her.

A pair of baggy dark jeans that hung low on her waist, hugging just enough to show her figure without looking like she was trying too hard. She paired it with a fitted white crop top, soft fabric that framed her chest and cut just above her pierced navel, the tiny silver ring in her abdomen glinting under the light.

She layered a long beige trench coat over it, elegant but casual. Around her shoulder, she slung a leather cross bag, sleek and minimal, just enough to carry her lip gloss, pepper spray, and courage.

No heels. Just clean white sneakers. Comfortable. Grounded.

She glanced once more at the mirror.

Not the perfect girl they remembered.

But real.

And she was ready to face them.

At least…that's what she kept telling herself.

★

The restaurant was buzzing with low music and murmurs of reunion excitement. A table stretched down the private hall, decorated with soft gold lighting, sparkling glasses, and menus folded like origami. Laughter echoed from farmiliar, faces all dressed for the occasion… past classmates turned polished adults.

And then…the doors opened.

Chase Monroe walked in.

Heads turned immediately.

He was talk in his sharp, charcoal-grey suit, effortless, magnetic. But it wasn't just him.

Beside him was her.

A woman who looked sculptured out of a fashion magazine. Glossy brunette hair fell in slick wave down her back, her eyes sharp and chin held hight with pride. She wore a form-fitting navy silk dress, the kind that hugged her body in all the right places, diamond earrings sparkling like warning sign. Her heels clicked against the floor, owning every step.

Together, they looked like a royal couple

Class. Money. Power.

But Chase's face.

Cold.

Disinterested.

Empty.

“Ayy, finally,” Aaron stood and pulled Chase into a bro-hug.

“I knew you'd show up. Told ‘em the reunion wasn't complete without the legend himself. Tonight just got interesting.”

More greetings followed, people clapping him on the back, whispering quietly between themselves.

“God, he looks different. ”

“He doesn't even smile anymore. ”

“Still hot as hell though. ”

“Didn't Delilah just come back.”

“ She is not here yet…. ”

Chase sat down at the end of the table, the mystery girl beside him, her perfectly manicured hand, resting lightly on his arm. Waiters came and went, serving glasses of wine and platters of roasted appetizers, but Chase barely noticed.

His fingers grazed the stem of his glass. He nodded absently to the conversations around him, But his eyes…

They kept drifting toward the entrance.

She wasn't here.

Yet.

Why did that bother him?

His jaw clenched. He hated how his chest tightened with every tick of the clock. Hated the heat clawing under his shower. Hated that he cared.

“she’s probably not coming. ” someone said casually.

“ Wouldn't blame her. She has got nerve if she does.”

“They said she left him for another guy. Must've been loaded.”

Chase lifted his glass to his lips and drank slowly.

Aaron, watching him carefully, squinted. “He grabbed Chase's left hand suddenly. “Bro. Are you engaged?”

The table quieted.

The girl beside chase smiled sweetly and held out her hand, flashing a glittering diamond ring.

There were murmurs all around.

“Ohh, wow.”

“she’s stunning.”

“I didn't know…”

Just stared blankly at the flickering candle in front of him.

Someone asked, “ So when is the wedding?”

Venessa smiled again. “We haven't picked a date yet. We're still enjoying the engagement. ”

Before anyone could respond, the doors to the restaurant opened again.

“Whose wedding are you guys talking about?” a voice chimed.

Heads turned.

Ava. Dressed in business slacks and a soft green blouse. She stepped inside, lips curved in a teasing smile.

Right behind her was Delilah.

Everything paused.

Time.

Voices.

Breath.

Her light trench coat drapped over her arm.

Her outfits was simple but it wasn't the clothes…

It was her presence.

She looked beautiful.

Sroger. Softer. Sadder.

Men stared, some with open mouths. Women whispered, lips curling. But Delilah didn't flinch. Her eyes scanned the room quickly…until they landed on him.

Chase.

Their eyes locked.

She couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was unreadable.

He just looked at her.

Like he hadn't expected her to be real.

Then he turned away.

Delilah's chest ached.

She smiled tightly and walked in, nodding a soft hello to the group.

No one responded immediately.

Ava already found herself a seat. Aaron cleared his throat and gestured at the empty seat beside him. “You can sit here.”

She did, quietly, right across from Chase.

He didn't look up again.

And the night, for the first time, really began.

Delilah sat, hands resting on her laps, legs crossed carefully beneath the table like she was made of porcelain. She could feel their stares… whispers brushing again her skin like cold wind.

But nothing stung more than the diamond on ex lover's finger.

Engaged.

The word twisted in her chest like a slow knife. She didn't blink. She didn't let her breath hitch. She smiled so beautifully that no one could tell her heart was bleeding beneath it.

She deserved it.

Of course she did.

She left him. Disappeared without a word. Let him rot in questions, heartbreak, humiliation.

He was allowed to move on.

She kept repeating that in her head like a prayer. But the pain didn't listen. Her heart didn't care about logic.

She hated how his hand fit perfectly in the woman's beside him. Hated how his laughter filled the spaces Delilah once knew. Hated how he didn't even look at her.

Then the question came.

“So Deli……are you married now? We heard you got engaged. That's why you left, right?”

Her chest tightened and for a second, the glass in her hand trembled.

She looked up. His eyes were on her now… just for a breath.

“No,” she said calmly." I was never engaged. That was just a rumor.”

A pause.

He blinked slowly… then looked away like her words meant nothing.

But she saw it… the way his jaw flexed. The way his hand stilled over his drink.

He doesn't believe me.

She didn't believe him.

Because who would?

She had vanished like a thief in the night. Left him with no answers. Just a ghost. She'd died in his world. And now she had the nerve to resurrect.

And yet… she couldn't stop glancing at him.

She hated herself for that.

Hated the way her eyes betrayed a her and kept finding the curve of his cheek, the edge of his mouth, the shadow in his gaze. He used to smile with those eyes. Now they looked hollow. Sharp.

The woman beside him kept whispering. Laughing. Her hand snaked around his wrist, over his chest, over his thigh. She wanted everyone to see. She wanted Delilah to see.

And Chase let her.

But inside he was chaos.

He sat with a face carved from stone but his thoughts were wild.

She left.

She broke me.

She made me believe I wasn't enough.

Now she walked in her, soft eyes, long hair, quiet presence…and acted like non of it happened. Like she hadn't gutted him. Like she hadn't ruined him.

When she said she wasn't engaged, something inside him cracked.

But he didn't show it.

Because if he left himself believe her… he'd have to feel everything again.

And he wasn't ready to bleed in front of her.

“Since you're not taken,” Aaron broke the tension with grin, “can I finally shoot my shot? ”

Delilah gave a small smile. It didn't reach her eyes.

“Depends how good your aim is. ”

“Just give me your number. I've been waiting since highschool. ”

She typed it quickly. Handed it over.

Chase felt nothing.

At least…. that's what he told himself.

And then she stood up.

“I should get going.” she said, reaching for her coat. “ I have somewhere to be. ”

Somewhere to run.

Chase's fingers tightened around his glass.

He wanted to move. To stop her. To grab her hand and demand every reason, every excuse, every truth she had buried two years ago.

He wanted to pull her into corner and ask.

But she looked so composed. So unaffected.

Like hearing he was engaged didn't even scratch the surface. That infuriated him more than anything else.

If she could walk away from him… twice. Then maybe he hadn't ruined her the way she had ruined him.

And that wasn't fair.

Ava stood up “ I'll come with ..”

“ No,” Delilah whispered. “Stay. Enjoy the night. ”

Her voice was soft. But final.

Chase watched her walk away.

People whispered as she passed…cruel words slipping like venom from glossy lips

“She’s still so shameless.”

“Doesn’t even look guilty.”

“What is she even doing back?”

But Delilah didn’t flinch.

Because if she did…she’d crumble.

And Chase?

He didn’t look away until the door shut behind her.

That’s when he finally breathed.

And just like that…

The fire inside him began to grow again.

If she could leave him twice… Then maybe it was his turn.