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But those memories twisted into something darker. As much as I had loved that connection, I remembered the other side: the pain and unpredictability that followed like a shadow. It was intoxicating and terrifying all at once.

I clenched my jaw. How could I miss something so damaging? How could I crave the chaos when it had cost me so much? Each recollection sliced through me like ice—a bitter reminder of how deep his grip on me had been.

As I looked around the office, laughter erupted from a nearby group discussing last year’s game highlights, their voices bright and carefree. I envied their lightness while my heart sank with memories of Damien’s possessive gaze locking onto mine, as if he were claiming me all over again.

But no—this wasn’t what I wanted. This time would be different; it had to be.

I settledinto a booth at River Styx, the familiar scent of roasted coffee and pastries wrapping around me like a warm hug. Everly arrived moments later, her bright smile instantly lifting my spirits.

“Holly!” she exclaimed, sliding into the seat across from me. “It’s been too long.”

“I know! I missed you,” I said, genuinely relieved to see her. It felt good to have someone to talk to—someone who wasn’t tangled in all this mess.

We ordered lunch and began catching up, our conversation flowing effortlessly. Everly excitedly filled me in on the latest with Cooper Sinclaire.

“He’s amazing, Holly! We went hiking last weekend, and he just—he’s so passionate about everything,” she gushed. “He really listens to me, you know? It feels like he cares. Even if he can be sometimes abrupt about things. You know how he is."

I did.

The truth was, Cooper was never around when me and Damien were together. There was an eight-year age gap between siblings, but something told me it was more than that, almost like Cooper had avoided being home at all.

Damien had this weird hatred slash admiration for his older brother, like Cooper had escaped while Damien hadn't.

I smiled at her enthusiasm. Everly had always been drawn to strong personalities, but Cooper was different. He brought out a softness in her that was beautiful to witness. Their relationship blossomed like spring flowers after a long winter, even with him being rough around the edges.

“Sounds like you’re smitten,” I teased.

“Maybe just a little,” she replied with a laugh before shifting gears back to the charity game. “So what’s the latest with the planning? The roster looks intense this year. At least, Cooper mentioned it."

“It is,” I said, taking a sip of my iced tea. “They’ve paired me with Logan for coordinating tasks. It feels… manageable.”

“Logan Hartley? He seems nice enough,” she said, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I thought…” She looked away.

I sighed. “You heard?"

"Who hasn't?" Everly met my eyes again.

The conversation veered toward the upcoming women’s hockey game featuring Team USA against Team Canada—a big deal in Crestwood this summer. Duncan Callahan was coaching the event; his presence added prestige and excitement.

“Can you believe we’ll get to see him coach? An Olympic gold medalist!” Everly exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Yeah, it’ll be incredible,” I agreed before my mind drifted back to darker thoughts.

Then came that name—the one that seemed to linger in every corner of my life now.

“What about Damien?” Everly asked cautiously, her tone shifting as if sensing the tension creeping back into my chest.

I sighed deeply, grappling with how much I wanted to share and how much I wanted to keep buried.

I looked down at my iced tea, swirling the condensation on the glass with my fingers.

“Damien is ancient history,” I said, forcing a lightness into my tone that didn’t quite match the heaviness in my chest.

Everly tilted her head, a small frown creeping onto her face. She knew me too well—far better than I wanted anyone to know me right now. I could feel the unspoken question lingering between us, heavy and suffocating.

“Right,” she replied slowly, her eyes searching mine for something deeper. “You’re really okay?”

“Of course! I mean, he’s just… there,” I gestured vaguely, as if Damien was merely an old poster hanging on a wall, faded but not forgotten. “He doesn’t matter.”