Chapter 24: If He Had Said Something
(Ethan & Riley – A Dream, a Memory, and a Truth He Never Said Out Loud)
Ethan – Present
The storm had finally stopped.
The cabin was quiet.
Riley was asleep.
And Ethan?
Ethan was still wide awake.
Because he couldn't stop remembering.
Couldn't stop feeling the weight of her words.
"Do you ever get tired of it?"
"Pretending you don't care?"
He had spent so long pretending.
Too long.
And now?
Now he wasn't sure if he knew how to stop.
Flashback – Two Years Ago
It was the night before everything fell apart.
The night before he confessed.
The night before Riley Carter broke his heart.
They had been walking home together.
Just like always.
Riley was talking, like always.
Something about a dumb movie she had watched over the weekend.
Ethan wasn't listening.
Not really.
Because he had already made up his mind.
Because tonight was the night.
Tonight, he was going to tell her.
And maybe, if he had said it then—
Before the party.
Before Jason Calloway.
Before the world gave her the chance to leave.
Maybe she wouldn't have walked away.
Maybe she wouldn't have chosen a world that didn't have him in it.
Maybe he wouldn't be sitting here, two years later, in a cabin full of ghosts, pretending he didn't still love her.
Present – The Morning After
The light was soft when Riley woke up.
The storm had passed.
The air was cold.
And Ethan was already awake.
Sitting by the fire, hood pulled up, staring at nothing.
Riley watched him for a moment.
Because in the soft light of morning, he didn't look unbreakable.
Didn't look cold and distant.
Didn't look like a boy who had spent two years making sure she never got close enough to hurt him again.
He just looked tired.
And for the first time, Riley realized—
Maybe she wasn't the only one who missed them.
Maybe Ethan did too.
He just didn't know how to say it.
Ethan – Present
He felt her eyes on him.
Felt the weight of everything they weren't saying.
But instead of looking at her, instead of acknowledging the moment, instead of admitting any of it—
He stood up.
"Come on," he muttered, walking toward the door. "We should get back."
Riley didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't argue.
And somehow?
That was worse.