Chapter 7: The House He Kept for Me

The message from Beck stayed on my screen.

"Always."

Just one word.

But somehow, it felt more reassuring than every promise Camden had ever made me.

I stood beside the curb with my suitcase, watching the house disappear behind me as the taxi pulled away.

I didn't know what scared me more.

Leaving everything behind.

Or realizing that I wasn't scared enough.

For years, I had thought walking away from Camden would destroy me. I'd imagined myself begging him to choose me, asking him to explain why Pepper had become more important, wondering what I could have done differently.

But now?

I felt strangely light.

My phone buzzed again.

This time, it was Beck.

"I'm outside."

I looked up.

A dark car was parked across the street.

The driver's door opened.

Beck stepped out.

For a second, neither of us moved.

He looked different.

Older than the boy I remembered, but somehow exactly the same.

His dark hair was slightly longer than I remembered. His coat was pulled tight against the cold, and his eyes were fixed on me like he'd been waiting years for this exact moment.

Then he crossed the street.

He stopped in front of me.

His gaze dropped to my suitcase.

Then to my face.

He didn't ask what happened.

He didn't ask why I was leaving.

He simply reached for my suitcase.

"I've got it."

I let go.

He lifted it easily.

"Beck."

He looked at me.

I swallowed.

"I really did it."

His expression softened.

"You did."

"I left."

"I know."

"I don't have anywhere to go."

"You do now."

Something in my chest cracked.

Not painfully.

Just enough to let the air back in.

I looked away quickly.

"Don't make this harder."

"I won't."

He opened the passenger door for me.

I hesitated.

"What if this is a mistake?"

Beck leaned against the door.

"Then we'll survive the mistake."

I stared at him.

"You still want to marry me?"

His eyes never left mine.

"I never stopped."

My throat tightened.

"But you barely know me anymore."

"I know enough."

"Beck—"

"You don't have to love me today."

I froze.

He continued quietly.

"You don't have to pretend you're over Camden. You don't have to force yourself to trust me. You don't even have to know what happens next."

He stepped closer.

"But don't tell yourself you have to face it alone."

My eyes burned.

I looked down before he could see the tears.

"You always do this."

"Do what?"

"Make everything sound easy."

He smiled faintly.

"It's not easy."

His voice lowered.

"I just don't think you should have to suffer through the hard parts by yourself."

That was when the first tear slipped down my cheek.

Beck didn't touch me.

He simply waited.

And somehow, that restraint hurt more than an embrace would have.

Because Camden had always demanded.

Beck waited.

Camden had always expected me to understand.

Beck tried to understand me.

I climbed into the car.

He placed my suitcase in the trunk and got behind the wheel.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

The city moved past the windows.

Then my phone began ringing.

Camden.

I stared at the screen.

Beck noticed.

He didn't say anything.

The call ended.

A second one came.

Then a third.

I finally turned the phone face down.

Beck glanced at me.

"You don't have to answer."

"I know."

The phone rang again.

This time, it was my mother.

I laughed quietly.

"What?"

Beck raised an eyebrow.

"They've noticed I'm actually gone."

He didn't respond.

I picked up the phone.

Not to answer.

I opened my mother's latest message.

"Come home. We need to discuss this before you make things worse."

I stared at it.

Then another message appeared.

"Pepper is having a difficult time. Camden is worried sick about you."

I almost laughed again.

Worried.

That word felt ridiculous.

I typed a response.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

I deleted it.

Typed again.

"I'm not coming back. Please respect that."

I sent it.

My mother's reply arrived almost instantly.

"You're being selfish."

I stared at those two words.

For years, they would have crushed me.

This time, they didn't.

I blocked her number.

Beck glanced over.

"You okay?"

I nodded.

"Better than okay."

He smiled.

"Good."

We drove another twenty minutes before he pulled into a quiet neighborhood.

I looked out the window.

The houses were beautiful.

Trees lined the sidewalks.

There were lights glowing in the windows.

Families moving behind curtains.

Normal lives.

The kind of life I'd always wanted.

Beck pulled into a driveway.

I looked at him.

"Where are we?"

"My house."

I blinked.

"Your house?"

He turned off the engine.

"The one I bought three years ago."

The words hit me.

The house from the documents.

The one I'd described when I was fifteen.

The white fence.

The old oak tree.

I stared at the front door.

"You actually bought it."

"I told you I would."

"You were fifteen."

"I had plans."

I shook my head.

"You're unbelievable."

He laughed softly.

"That's not a no."

I stepped out.

The moment my feet touched the driveway, I felt something strange.

Peace.

Beck opened the front door.

"Come inside."

I followed him.

The house smelled like fresh coffee and cedar.

It was warm.

Comfortable.

There were books on the shelves and framed photographs on the walls.

Then I saw one.

A photograph of two teenagers sitting beneath an old oak tree.

Me and Beck.

I walked closer.

"You kept this?"

"Of course."

I touched the edge of the frame.

"I look terrible."

"You look happy."

I looked at the picture again.

He was right.

I had forgotten that version of myself existed.

A girl who laughed without checking whether anyone was angry.

A girl who believed promises meant something.

A girl who thought love could be simple.

I turned toward him.

"Why did you keep waiting?"

Beck was silent for a long moment.

Then he answered.

"Because you were worth waiting for."

My eyes filled again.

"I don't know if I can be the person you remember."

"I don't want the girl you remember."

He stepped closer.

"I want you."

My heart stumbled.

"But I'm a mess."

"So am I."

"I've been hurt."

"I know."

"I might not know how to love you."

"You'll learn."

"What if I never do?"

His gaze softened.

"Then I'll still be here."

I looked at him.

And for the first time since Camden had shattered my life, I let myself believe that maybe the end of one story didn't mean the end of everything.

Maybe it was simply the beginning of another.

My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.

I looked at the screen.

An unknown number.

A message.

"Rowan, this is Camden. Please don't marry Beck."

My stomach tightened.

Another message followed.

"There is something you don't know about Pepper."

I stared at the screen.

Beck noticed my expression.

"What happened?"

I didn't answer.

Another message appeared.

"She lied to both of us."

My fingers went cold.

I looked at Beck.

Then back at the phone.

Whatever peace I'd found had lasted less than an hour.

And apparently, Camden wasn't finished destroying my life.

But this time, I wasn't facing him alone.