Her breath caught.
The three of them - her,Riley, andAcen- stood in front of the lake, dripping wet from a swim, all gangly limbs and crooked smiles.Sheremembered the day instantly: lateJuly, the heat sweltering,Rileydaring her to jump from the dock even though the water was shallow there.Acenhad ended up hauling them both out when their laughter left them gasping more than swimming.
She hadn’t seen this photo in years.
The colors were time-bleached now, the whites yellowing, but the emotion was sharp as ever.Riley’shair stuck up at odd angles, his grin devilish.Shelooked carefree, flushed, younger than she’d thought herself even back then.AndAcen-Lordhelp her -Acenstood between them with his arm draped across their shoulders like it had always belonged there.
Beneath the photo lay a folded piece of paper.
She hesitated, then smoothed it open.
Scrawled in dark ink was one line:
I never forgot.Notfor a single day.–A
Her heart twisted.Herhand closed over the box as though to crush it.
And all the simple answers she’d been clinging to dissolved like sugar in sweet tea.
ThePolaroidsatonRose’skitchen table like a ghost that refused to leave.
She’d carried it inside, set it down, and tried -Lordknows she’d tried - to ignore it.She’deven busied herself with chores: rinsing the coffee mug, sweeping the porch, folding the laundry piled on the couch.Butno matter how many times she walked past the table, her eyes landed on that picture.
She’d studied it a dozen times already - the way her hair clung to her neck, howRileysquinted against the sun,Acen’sarm casually slung around both their shoulders.Thatsummer, they’d been inseparable.Atrio made of secrets, loyalty, and the kind of laughter that echoed for days.
Back when everything was still simple.BeforeBriana.Beforethe goodbye that wrecked her.
The scrawled note was still in her hand.Inever forgot.Notfor a single day.
She wanted to hate it.Tothrow it out and claim the past was a closed door.Sheeven moved toward the trash can once, her fingers gripping the paper so tightly the edges dug into her skin.Butwhen she hovered over the open trash can, her fingers wouldn’t cooperate.Wouldlet the piece of paper, the piece of the past, drift away into oblivion.
Instead, she’d found herself sitting again, tracing the edges of the photograph with trembling fingers.
She didn’t know what made her angrier - thatAcenhad kept something like this all these years - or that some small, foolish part of her heart still ached at the thought of him remembering.
The kitchen clock ticked, steady as a heartbeat.
Rose leaned back in her chair, arms folded tight across her chest.Outside, the afternoon shifted toward evening, shadows stretching long across the yard.Somewherein the distance, kids shouted and laughed, their voices high and eager.Thesound pulled at her, bittersweet.
She tried to focus on something else.Somethingthat meant the world to her.
Baseball.Alwaysbaseball.Ithad been her refuge, her rhythm, the one place she could pour her hurt without it spilling over.Coachingher team, drilling the women on cutoffs and double plays, arguing over safe calls at second—it had kept her sane.
AndAcenhad to go and wedge himself right into the middle of it.Evenbaseball couldn’t get her away from him now.
She could still see him on the field earlier that week, leaning against the fence line like he owned the place.Eveninjured, even out of the game, he carried himself with that same quiet confidence.Theway his eyes tracked her when she pitched warmups had unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
Now this.
This box.Thisnote.
A memory pressed into her palm like a bruise.
She picked up thePolaroidagain, holding it at arm’s length as though distance might dull its sting.
She remembered the moment it had been taken.Rileyhad stolen their mama’s camera and insisted they commemorate their “last summer before adulthood.”He’dcalled it their golden season.Rosehad rolled her eyes at his dramatics, but she’d secretly agreed.Thatsummer had been golden—sticky nights, bonfires, boat rides acrossPickwickLake, hours spent tossing a ball until their arms ached.
AndAcen.AlwaysAcen.
