Page 43 of Glitches and Kisses (The Havenwood #2)

I tapped out my response, forcing myself to stay steady.

Noah : Please meet me. River launch, edge of town.

The three dots appeared. Stopped. Appeared again.

Evan Mitchell : Fine. Give me 15 minutes.

I sat staring at the screen until the glow faded to black, leaving me alone again in the quiet.

Fifteen minutes.

Just enough time to sit with everything I was about to say.

Just enough time to decide that this time, I am not letting him walk away.

The fifteen minutes that passed felt like hours.

The air had cooled considerably, the damp chill seeping through my clothes, but I barely felt it. I had been sitting on the rock by the water for hours, legs stiff, fingers numb from gripping my phone tightly.

The river lulled me into something close to calm. The sound filled the silence in my head, dulled the jagged edges of my thoughts.

I didn’t realize how much time had passed until I heard footsteps behind me, crunching over the damp gravel.

I knew it was him. His footsteps slowed as he got closer.

And when I finally lifted my head, I saw him standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his face hard to make out in the low moonlight.

He didn’t go home first, hadn’t showered or changed clothes.

His work shirt is still slightly wrinkled underneath his coat and the scent of the Bistro still clinging to him.

His face, even in the dim light, looked worn.

I could see the tension in his jaw, the way he gripped at his arms like he was holding himself together.

He was beautiful. God, he was so beautiful.

Even now, even furious, even after everything I did to him.

I pushed myself up, my muscles aching from hours of stillness, the weight of the moment making it harder than it should have been. My boots scuffed against the gravel as I found my footing. “Hey.”

Evan shook his head, jaw tense and eyes steady. “I’m here.”

I swallowed hard as I turned to fully face him. My throat was tight and my hands clenched at my sides.

I have no idea where to start.

The last few months sat heavy on my chest as I stood in front of Evan. I’d spent hours here, hoping the sound of the water could wash away the mess I made. But now, I had to face it. I had to take responsibility.

This is the moment. No more running.

But before I said anything else, I had to start with the one thing that had been gnawing at me since it happened.

“First, I need to say I’m sorry,” I said, my voice quiet but firm.

“For showing up at the Bistro. For grabbing your arm. That should never have happened, and it will never happen again.”

He didn’t respond, just gave me a slow, measured nod, waiting.

I took a deep breath. No more running.

“I fucked up.”

Evan let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head as he looked away. “No shit.”

“I was scared, Evan. The last time I let myself love someone they left,” I said quietly, eyes fixed on a spot just over Evan’s shoulder. “And it nearly wrecked me.”

I swallowed hard, the words sticking in my throat.

But I kept going. “His name was Mark. We were together for almost two years. He was… big energy. Spontaneous. Always dragging me out to do something wild. And I thought…” I paused, lips twit ching bitterly.

“I thought, no… I knew we were building something real. We talked about moving in together. Starting our own studio. He even left toothbrushes at my place. One for each bathroom.”

I risked a glance at Evan. He was listening.

Really listening. “And then,” I continued, “he dumped me. Publicly. At a launch party I’d spent weeks planning.

One too many drinks, some dumb argument I don’t even remember the start of, and suddenly he’s standing in the middle of the room, my room, my coworkers, my mentors, and he says I’m emotionally unavailable.

I am selfish. That I don’t know how to love anyone unless it’s on my terms.” My voice cracked slightly.

I didn’t try to cover it. “He said it out loud. Loud enough that people stopped talking. Turned to look. I just stood there holding a glass of champagne, trying to pretend like I wasn’t unraveling. We were the spectacle at this event.”

I took a breath. “And then he ghosted me. Just disappeared. No texts. No calls. No explanation. No collecting his things from my apartment. Like I was nothing.” I felt the old ache rising up again, but this time I didn’t bury it.

“I spent months picking up the pieces. Wondering if he was right. If I really was incapable of giving someone what they needed. If I was too rigid. Too cold. Too… me.” My hands fidgeted in my lap as tears welled up in my eyes.

“So, I made rules. Structure. I kept everything neat and simple. No shared drawers. No late-night entanglements. No toothbrushes. Nothing that could feel like a beginning to something I couldn’t survive the end of. I doubled down.”

I looked at Evan then, really looked at him. “Love hasn’t been easy or soft for me, Evan. It’s been a trapdoor. And I’ve spent every day since Mark making damn sure I’d never fall through it again.”

I dragged a hand across my face wiping the tears.

I paced a few steps before stopping right in front of him, close enough to see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled into the sleeves of his work shirt.

“And I did the same to you. Especially tonight. I was scared. I am scared. But I let you go because I thought I didn’t know how to love someone like you.

Because I convinced myself that I didn’t know how to be in something that didn’t have an exit plan. ”

My words caught in my throat. No more running. Say it. Say what you know is true.

“But the truth is…” I paused, shaking my head. “I already do.”

Evan’s eyes were locked on mine, something uncertain passing across his face as he stared into the soul behind my eyes.

“I already love you,” I admitted, the words raw, unsteady. “I just need to stop running. ”

But his expression didn’t soften. His arms stayed crossed, his body still guarded as he pulled his jacket tighter against the cold October night.

And then, his voice broke through the silence, low and tight. “Why didn’t you stop me, Noah? Why didn’t you choose me? Choose us ? Why didn’t you figure out a way to make it work?” He let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Fuck, now I sound like Meredith Grey.”

I felt the sting of it, but I didn’t let him twist it all on me. Not this time.

“I tried,” I said, voice tight, my jaw clenched, my heart pounding. “You wouldn’t let me speak. You’d already decided. For both of us.”

That hit him. I saw it. The flicker of realization, the way his mouth parted like he wanted to argue but couldn’t. But I didn’t stop.

“You walked out the door. You shut the door behind you, Evan. You ended it. And then what? You moved on like it didn’t matter?”

Evan’s brow lifted. “Are you serious right now?” He let out a humorless laugh, sharp and disbelieving.

I didn’t answer. The heat in my chest was too much, boiling over.

“You, Noah. You didn’t speak. You didn’t fight. You just… let me walk away and expected me to just… what? Sit and wait on you?”

“I saw the photos. I heard about the coffee runs, the late nights at the Taproom; the dinners out. Everybody talks. Everybody is in everybody’s fucking business.

That was our shit. That was mine. ” My voice cracked, and I hated the way it did.

“Not the sex, not the physical stuff. I’m not talking about that.

But the time. The quiet. The pizza. The routine. You let someone else have it.”

Evan didn’t interrupt. He just looked at me, really looked at me. And when he finally spoke, it was slow and measured, careful like he knew he was stepping over broken glass.

“Noah, you’re right. But let’s be very clear. That was ours. So, first of all, I didn’t owe you anything. You weren’t owed that part of me with Jordan, because you and I were not together.”

I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand firmly to stop me. To be heard.

“I needed to feel something . Jordan is a good guy. Kind. Funny. Smart. And yeah, he’s stupid hot. But we went on a few dates. We barely kissed. There was no grand romance, no epic rebound. It was killing time. Nothing ever happened. Not like this, ” he added, motioning between us.

That landed like a punch to the ribs. Because he was right. We weren’t together. I’d pushed him away and still expected him to orbit me like a fucking moon.

The heat behind my jealousy crumbled into something smaller, more brittle. Shame, maybe. Regret.

“I just… hated seeing someone else get what I’d thrown away.”

Evan’s gaze was steady, his voice low. “You didn’t throw it away. You dropped it because you were scared. And I couldn’t hold it alone.”

I nodded, throat tight, the words tangled somewhere between apology and understanding.

“I moved on, Noah. I needed more than words,” he said quietly, his voice low but firm. “I needed action. ”

I looked down. The long silence was filled with the waves against the rocks as that shame bloomed again in the hollow of my chest. “I know,” I said finally. “You’re right. You did.”

A beat passed. Then another.

Evan broke the silence, “Noah, what is the endgame here?”

I nodded. “I know you needed action. I know you needed more. That’s why I turned down the job.”

Evan’s entire body stiffened. “What?”

I took a step closer, my chest tight. “I turned it down. San Francisco. The position. I told them no.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want it.” The words came out too fast, too raw. “I want you.”

“You could have had both,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

I shook my head. “No, I couldn’t. You made that very clear.”