I don't regret knowing that woman exists. I just need to figure out how to reconcile her with the person I've spent years becoming.
I check the time—6:30. Reese will be here soon. I do one final sweep of the apartment, making sure lights are off, windows are locked.
My phone sits on the kitchen counter, dark and silent. No more texts from Nate. Part of me is relieved. Part of me is devastated. I pick it up, turn it over in my hand. Then I power itdown completely and tuck it into my purse. Maybe I’ll just leave it off for the weekend.
The buzzer sounds—Reese, early as usual. I grab my bag and purse, take one last look around my half-unpacked apartment. My plan was to get it all unboxed this weekend. Oh well… getting away feels more important.
As I head downstairs to meet Reese, there's a small flicker of something like hope in my chest. I've survived worse than this. My mother's death. My first heartbreak. The crushing pressure of graduate school. I'll survive Nate Barnes too.
Even if, right now, it doesn't feel that way.
"Ready for wine and wilderness?" Reese calls as I push through the building's front door. She leans against her SUV, her arms crossed, a wide smile on her face.
"Abso-fucking-lutely," I answer, managing a small smile in return.
As we drive away from my apartment, from Chicago, from all the complications of my life here, I close my eyes and try to imagine a version of myself that isn't aching for a man I can't have. It's harder than it should be.
But I'm trying. That has to count for something.
Chapter 17
Elena
The morning light filters through the pine trees surrounding Reese's family cabin, painting dappled shadows across the wooden porch. I cradle a steaming mug of coffee between my palms, breathing in the crisp autumn air. It's so different from Chicago—quieter, simpler, without the constant hum of expectation and fear that's been my life these past weeks. I've forgotten what it feels like to breathe without that tight band of anxiety around my chest.
"You're up early," Reese says, sliding open the screen door. Her wild curls are piled into a messy bun on top of her head, and she's wearing an oversized Northwestern sweatshirt that reaches to mid-thigh. "How'd you sleep?"
"Better than I have in a while," I admit, making room for her on the porch swing. "Thanks for dragging me out here."
"Anytime, girl." She bumps my shoulder with hers. "Want to go for a hike this morning? It’s gorgeous out here today."
Twenty minutes later, we're crunching through fallen leaves, following a narrow path that winds between tall trees sporting fiery oranges and deep reds. The lake sparkles through thebranches, catching the morning sunlight. I inhale deeply, feeling some of the tension release.
"So," Reese says. "Are we going to talk about it, or are we pretending everything's fine?"
I glance at her. "Can't we do both? Pretend everything's fine while also talking about it?"
"Classic Elena Martinez deflection." She grins. "Come on. You've been wound so tight lately. Talk to me."
I kick at a pinecone, sending it skittering down the path. "I don't even know where to start."
"Start with how you're feeling. Right now."
"Lost," I say after a moment. "Like I've been walking a straight path my whole life, and suddenly I've veered off into the wilderness without a map."
"Because of Nate?"
"Because of everything." I stop to look out at the lake, its surface rippling with the light breeze. "I feel like I've compromised everything I've worked for. My ethics. My credibility. All for... what? A few hot nights with a hockey player?"
"Is that all it was?" Reese asks quietly.
The question hangs between us, demanding honesty I've been avoiding even with myself.
"No," I whisper. "That's what makes it worse. If it was just sex, maybe I could shake it off. But Nate..." I struggle to find the words. "He showed me parts of himself nobody else sees. He trusted me with things he's never told anyone. And I did the same with him."
We start walking again, the path sloping gently upward.
"I keep thinking maybe I made a mistake coming back to Chicago," I confess. "Taking the job with the Blades. Working for my dad. Maybe I should have stayed in San Francisco."
