Page 32 of Only Be Mine

That was the detail that wouldn’t let go of me.

Not the kiss.

Not the bar.

Not the way my entire body had lit up like I’d been starving.

It was the fact that he’d looked at me, really looked, and still asked if he could.

Like my comfort mattered more than his need. Like I was worth waiting for.

I swallowed hard and stared straight ahead, blinking fast when my eyes burned.

Amy’s shoes scuffed the sidewalk. “What are you feeling right now?”

I almost laughed. The question was so simple. So unfair.

“I feel…” I tried and failed. “I feel stupid.”

Amy’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because I’m doing this,” I said, gesturing vaguely at myself, the street, the air. “Because I’m getting married tomorrow and I’m out here acting like a man I love… loved, a decade ago is still… in the room.”

Amy didn’t flinch at the word love.

She only nodded, like she’d known it was there waiting to be said.

“I thought time would fix it,” I admitted. “I thought it would dull. Fade. Like everything else.”

Amy’s voice softened. “But it didn’t.”

“No.” My throat tightened again. “It just… went quiet. And now…” I shook my head.

We reached the corner and paused at the crosswalk. A car passed, music thumping through open windows, the bass vibrating faintly in my bones.

John had never been loud.

That was what was killing me.

He hadn’t been a whirlwind. He hadn’t been a mistake I could dismiss as youth or tequila or bad judgment.

He’d been steady, intentional, and somehow that made losing him feel permanent in a way I still didn’t have words for.

Amy touched my elbow gently. “Cate.”

I inhaled softly and tried to find my feet again.

“I don’t want to hurt Trevor,” I said. “He’s not a bad man. He loves me, he takes care of me. He’s built this whole life around me.”

Amy’s eyes held mine. “Do you love him?”

The question landed like a stone dropped into water - quiet at first, then rippling outward, hitting everything.

I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.

My silence answered for me.

My stomach twisted hard enough I had to look away.