Chapter 8: What We Left Behind
(Dual POV – Ethan & Riley, Past & Present)
Riley – Present
The thing about guilt is that it doesn't just sit inside you.
It spreads.
It latches onto your bones, creeps into your thoughts, and poisons the things that should feel good. The things that should feel easy.
Like lunch with Jason and her friends.
Like sitting on the bleachers, watching him shoot hoops with his teammates, her fingers still warm from where he had laced their hands together moments before.
Like kissing him when he jogged over, breathless and grinning, brushing his lips against hers.
It should have felt like something.
But all she could think about was how cold Ethan had looked when he told her no.
She had lost him. She had left him.
And now she had no idea how to get him back.
"Hey," Jason nudged her with his elbow. "You okay?"
She blinked, realizing she hadn't heard a word of whatever conversation was happening around her.
"Yeah," she said quickly. "Just distracted."
Jason smirked. "Thinking about me?"
She forced a laugh. "Obviously."
It wasn't a lie.
She was thinking about him.
Just not in the way he thought.
Ethan – Present
The problem with hating someone is that it's exhausting.
Ethan had spent **two years** burying everything Riley Carter had meant to him.
But now? Now she was showing up in his space, looking at him with regret, saying his name like it still belonged to her—**and he was supposed to pretend it didn't matter?**
It was ruining him.
Which is why, when Mr. Adler announced they'd be partnering up for the next project in English class, Ethan already knew what was coming.
And sure enough—
"Riley Carter and Ethan Hayes."
The universe hated him.
He clenched his jaw as the class erupted into whispers, the name pairing catching attention from way too many people.
He felt her looking at him.
He didn't look back.
---
Riley – Present
This was a test.
That was the only explanation.
Because there was no way fate, the universe, or whoever ran this mess of a world would purposely put her and Ethan together like this.
Except that's exactly what had happened.
And now, as the rest of the class shuffled into groups, Ethan was still refusing to acknowledge her.
She didn't care.
Not this time.
She grabbed her stuff and crossed the room, dropping her bag onto the desk beside him.
He didn't look up.
Of course, he didn't.
"I think Adler hates us," she said lightly, forcing a smirk.
Nothing.
She shifted in her chair, fingers tapping against the desk. "Look, we don't have to talk, but we should at least figure out—"
"Friday," he said, cutting her off.
She blinked. "What?"
"We'll meet after school Friday. Library."
She swallowed. "Okay."
Finally, finally, he turned to look at her.
And what she saw there—what she didn't see there—made her chest ache.
There was nothing.
No warmth. No nostalgia.
Just cold acceptance.
Like she was just another name on a list.
Like he had forgotten her.
And the worst part?
She wasn't sure if she wanted him to forget—or if she wanted him to remember everything.
Flashback – Two Years Ago
Ethan was nervous.
Which was stupid, because this was Riley. His best friend. The girl who had spent half her life at his house, who knew everything about him.
And that was exactly why this was terrifying.
He took a slow breath, shifting on the porch swing, fingers curled around the edge of the seat.
Riley was beside him, scrolling through her phone, her bare feet tucked beneath her.
The night was warm, the cicadas humming, the street quiet except for the occasional distant car.
Perfect.
Or at least, it should have been.
He cleared his throat. "Rye."
She hummed, still focused on her screen.
His heart pounded. "I need to tell you something."
She finally glanced up, raising a brow. "Why do you sound like you're about to confess a murder?"
He huffed a quiet laugh. "Because I feel like I am."
That got her attention. She locked her phone, shifting to face him, studying his expression.
"Okay," she said slowly. "Now I'm curious. Spill."
Ethan exhaled. This was it.
"Riley… I love you."
The words felt too big, too heavy. Like they took up too much space in the air between them.
And then—she laughed.
Not a mean laugh. Not mocking. Just **soft. Disbelieving.**
Because she thought he was joking.
Until she saw his face.
And then—her smile faded.
"Oh," she whispered.
Ethan swallowed. "Oh."
Riley opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.
"Ethan, I—"
Don't say it.
But she did.
"I don't feel that way."
The porch suddenly felt too small.
Too quiet.
She reached for his hand, but he pulled back before she could touch him.
He couldn't do this right now.
Couldn't sit here while she figured out how to let him down easy.
Couldn't be her best friend when all he wanted was so much more.
"I should go," he muttered, pushing off the swing.
"Ethan, wait—"
But he was already walking away.
And he never sat on that porch swing with her again.
Back to the Present – Ethan
Ethan clenched his fists.
He could still feel it, even now.
The way her voice had hesitated.
The way she had looked at him like she was sorry.
Not for breaking his heart—but for making him think he ever had a chance.
So no, he wasn't going to fall for whatever guilt-trip she was pulling now.
She had made her choice.
And Ethan?
He was done waiting for her to change her mind.