Page 5 of The Lilac River (Silver Peaks #1)
New Rules – Dua Lipa
Lily
T wo weeks until school started. Two weeks to prepare. Two weeks to settle. Two weeks to pretend like I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder.
I’d spent the morning setting up my classroom with all the tools I hoped would make learning feel like play. There was nothing worse than a boring teacher, and as the new one, I didn’t need the added curse of kids comparing me to their beloved former favorite.
Games at the math station, colorful posters, a bright world map—check. Everything was in its place. I spun slowly on the spot, assessing the room. Clean lines. Soft light. Cheerful but not chaotic. It looked safe. I hoped it felt that way too.
“All set?”
Mrs. Wright, the school principal, smiled from the doorway.
I exhaled with a grin. “I think so. It’s not my first rodeo, but still… first week jitters.”
She stepped inside, eyes crinkling kindly. “You’ll do fine. They’re a sweet bunch. Eadie loved teaching them.”
Eadie Carmichael had been my second-grade teacher once. How she hadn’t retired yet was beyond me.
“Big shoes to fill.”
“You’ve got your own shoes, Lily. Don’t forget that.” She tapped the map. “This is lovely. Kids will love the travel theme.”
“That’s the plan. If we can’t go places, we can at least dream about them.”
Mrs. Wright chuckled and turned to leave but paused at the door. “Monica Patterson, she’s Head of the PTA, will be popping in soon.”
The name hit me like a slap.
Of course she would.
Monica Carter back in high school. Queen Bee. The girl who made my teenage years hell. The girl who always wanted Nash. The girl who hated that he had chosen me.
I barely had time to brace myself before she walked through the door.
“Well, if it isn’t Lily Jones,” she purred. Her voice was like honey left out in the sun, sticky and turning sour.
“Hello, Monica.” I smiled with polite stiffness.
She looked around the classroom, her nose slightly wrinkled. “Very… bright. I hope you’re ready for the school year.”
“I am now.”
She crossed her arms under a designer blouse. “My daughter Camila is in fourth grade. She’s gifted. We’re exploring more… appropriate options for her.”
I resisted an eye roll. “You must be very proud.”
“I am.” She smoothed her skirt. “Anyway, we’re hosting the Mayor tonight. Caterers arriving any minute.”
Of course. Mayor Miller. The man I hated more than anyone. The man who ruined more than just one life.
Monica smirked. “Probably shouldn’t have mentioned him, given the history between you and Nash.” Her voice dripped with faux sympathy. “He dumped you, right?”
My throat closed.
The ball of rage in my chest swelled. My nails bit into my palms.
“He was always flirting with me anyway,” she added lightly.
Enough.
I inhaled sharply. “That was a long time ago. We were all just kids.” I turned away, fiddling with a poster.
But she didn’t leave.
“It’s okay, I get why you don’t want to talk about it.”
Her words were knives wrapped in silk.
She was the same girl from high school, only better dressed and meaner with age.
I kept my back to her. Held the tears. Held the scream.
“Like I said,” I replied quietly, “a long time ago.”
Silence stretched. Then the click of heels. A distant door slam.
I sagged against a chair.
Her words shouldn’t have meant anything. But they did. Because they hit the one place I’d never fully healed.
The place that still whispered his name.
The place that never really stopped bleeding.
“Seriously, Mom? Now?”
“Grandma says she needs it.”
In the background, I heard Grandma holler, “I do!”
I groaned. All this over canned pineapple.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
“It’ll take ten minutes,” Mom said.
Ten minutes too long. I wasn’t ready to face town. Not yet.
Still, the sooner I got it done, the sooner I could return to safety. I slipped into my car, drove the short distance, and parked gratefully in a space outside the store.
Downtown Silver Peaks looked the same; the cracked sidewalks, the multi-colored store fronts, the hand-painted flower boxes that popped with color even in the fading summer sun.
The street was busy, families heading into Missy May’s Diner, teens loitering outside Mr. Frosty’s, a fresh coat of yellow paint going up on the liquor store door across the road.
I spotted Cody Hargreaves with a brush in hand. Normal. Familiar. Too familiar.
And it hit me. I didn’t belong here anymore. Not really. I was a ghost retracing old steps. A girl trying to wear a woman’s skin and pretend everything was fine.
I hated how the sight of Town Hall made me shiver. I hated that I looked for his window.
Mayor Miller.
My stomach twisted.
“He’s nothing,” I whispered to myself. “Nothing.”
I exhaled, turned toward the store, and froze.
A voice I once loved. Deep. Rough. Gravel and moonlight.
“Heard you were back, Lily. I just hoped it wasn’t true.”
Every nerve in my body caught fire. I turned slowly.
And there he was.
Nash.
Older. Broader. Weathered. His jaw was tighter, hair darker, the kind of rough edge time carves into a man who’s had to survive more than he shares.
And his eyes, god, those eyes, they hadn’t changed.
Same storm. Same hurt.
Only now I couldn’t pretend it didn’t matter.