ONCE MORE, WITH YOU

VI

Solené Beckett

Summer has been on my mind ever since I ran into her and ended up at her Thanksgiving party. I've been replaying that night ever since, wishing I could explain myself—but I get it. I get why she'd want to keep her distance. If I were in her shoes, I probably would too. Still, seeing her after all this time felt like a punch to the chest. She looked beautiful, as always, but there was something different about her this time. Or maybe it's just that I've spent so long pretending I'd moved on.

I know my showing up there shook her—it shook me too. I didn't expect to see her, not after all these years, and definitely not under those circumstances. The moment our eyes met, it was like all the memories I had buried, all the feelings I had forced down, came rushing back. Memories I thought I'd buried so deep they couldn't hurt me anymore.

For now, I'm stuck in this hotel while my apartment is being renovated and furnished. It's temporary, but somehow, it feels fitting. My life has felt temporary for a while now. I even walked away from modeling. I told everyone it was to take a break, to find some clarity, but the truth is, it started to feel hollow. Modeling gave me fame and fortune, but it didn't give me purpose. It didn't give me peace. And lately, I've started to wonder if what's missing—what's always been missing—is her.

But how do you rebuild a bridge you burned? How do you explain walking away when you were too much of a coward to stay? Maybe there's no fixing it, but I can't stop thinking about her. Maybe I owe her the truth, even if it changes nothing.

I push the thoughts of Summer to the back of my mind as I sit up in bed, the faint morning light streaming through the hotel curtains. The room smells like freshly brewed coffee from the pot I forgot to turn off last night, but I'm too restless to drink it. I need clarity—something I haven't had since that night.

Dragging myself out of bed, I head to the bathroom. The hot water in the shower washes over me, soothing the tension in my shoulders but doing nothing to quiet my mind. Every second feels heavy, every memory sharper under the steam. I towel off, slip into jeans and a simple sweater, and throw my hair into a messy bun. I'm not dressing to impress—this is about figuring out how to move forward, not getting stuck in the past.

I grab my keys and head out the door. August's place is the one spot that feels like a safe haven right now. She's my best friend Spencer's girlfriend, but over the years, she's become one of my closest confidantes too. If anyone can help me untangle this mess, it's them.

When I arrive, August opens the door almost immediately, dressed in her signature laid-back style: oversized sweater, leggings, and a warm smile.

"Hey, you look like you've been thinking too much," she teases, stepping aside to let me in.

"Understatement of the year," I say with a small laugh, kicking off my shoes and heading into the cozy living room. Spencer's already there, sitting cross-legged on the couch, her curls piled on top of her head and a mug of tea balanced on the armrest.

"You okay?" she asks, her voice soft and steady. "You've got that look."

I sink into the chair across from them. "I don't even know where to start."

"Try the beginning," August says, plopping down beside Spencer. "What's going on?"

"It's Summer," I blurt out before I lose my nerve. "I bumped into her the other day, completely out of the blue, and then I ended up at her Thanksgiving party—because of you two. I know I didn't have to go, but... I wanted to. It threw me off seeing her there. She looked amazing, but it's not just that. Seeing her brought everything back—all the regrets, all the things I never said. I don't know how to move forward with her."

Spencer sets her tea down, her expression thoughtful. "Well, what do you want? Closure? Another chance? What's the goal here?"

"I don't even know," I admit, rubbing my temples. "I just... I want to talk to her, to explain myself, but I'm scared it'll just make things worse."

August leans forward, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considers me. "You know, I've never seen Summer with anyone. Like, ever. She's gorgeous, smart, all that, but it's like she's locked herself away or something. Whatever happened between you two, it clearly left a mark on her too."

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I glance at Spencer, hoping she'll chime in, and she does, her voice steady but kind.

"August has a point. If she's been holding back, maybe she's just as scared as you are. But you need to figure out what you're going to say—and why—before you go barreling into her life again. You don't want to make it worse."

I nod slowly, the weight of their words sinking in. "You're right. I just... I don't want to mess this up."

Spencer reaches out, squeezing my hand. "Then don't. Take the time to figure out what you really want, and when you're ready, go talk to her. But be honest—with her, and with yourself."

For the first time in days, I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe there's still a chance to make things right.