Page 55 of Beautiful Lies

My heart skips.

Back?As in…he’s not going back to Australia?

“That’s great,” Mom chirps, glancing back at me with a worried look in her eyes.

“Yeah… that’s great,” I echo, just to say something. It would look terrible if I stood in silence after hearing news like that.

“I got a promotion and an offer to transfer,” Chad explains. “Figured it was time to head home.”

“Well, you know what they say—home is where the heart is,” Mom chirps.

“I agree.” Chad nods, his eyes softening as they trace my face, like he’s memorizing what he once had. There’s longing there, gentle, unspoken, and threaded with the same quiet hunger that used to undo me.

The look hits like déjà vu, sharp and unwanted. Mom notices and flashes me an awkward smile, one that says his timing couldn’t have been worse. Now that I’m about to marry Knox.

“Why don’t I let you two get reacquainted?” Mom nods. “I’ll whip you up some milkshakes.”

“Thanks, that sounds great,” Chad replies with a smile.

“Mom, you’re supposed to be going soon,” I cut in before she can say anything more.

“I will. Don’t worry about me. There’s a lot you can fit into fifteen minutes. Go grab a seat. You should talk to Chad.” She says his name with emphasis. And she’s right. I should talk to Chad.

“Sure.”

She flashes us one last smile and saunters away, leaving me alone with him.

I glance back at Chad, and he gives me a nervous smile. “Sorry to show up unannounced,” he says. “I can see you’re not overly thrilled to see me.”

“It’s not that. I’m just… shocked, is all.”

“That’s understandable. I remember how you hate surprises.”

It wasn’t that I hated surprises. I just hated when they were done badly. Some surprises could be good. I’m just not sure which kind this one is yet.

“It’s good to see you,” I tell him, feeling a flicker of guilt.

“Does that mean I get a hug?” he asks, searching my eyes.

“Of course.”

I hug him, and it’s strange. I don’t feel the warmth he used to give me. I never thought that would disappear just because he left. Especially since we were friends for so long before we ever became something more.

We pull apart, emotions scattering at my feet.

“How about we grab our usual booth, if it’s still open?” I suggest.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

We head out to the restaurant floor and find our old booth, which happens to be available. We slide in opposite each other, and a wave of nostalgia sweeps over me.

This could almost be six years ago, when we sat here talking about our plans for college.

We were both heading to Brown, and I thought that was the start of forever.

If someone had told me we’d be here six years later—not together—I never would’ve believed them.

And I definitely wouldn’t have believed that I’d feel… nothing.