If Only (GxG)

Chapter 44 Again?

A/N
🎶Nice to Each Other by Olivia Dean🎶

『 °*• ❀ •*°』
Alison's POV

The park hums with life on Sunday morning, the kind that softens the edges of the city—birdsong threading through the canopy of trees, dogs barking in bursts of joy, joggers pacing out their early miles. It's already hot. The kind of heat that clings to your skin and seeps into the concrete. The sun hangs low and lazy over the rooftops, golden and unforgiving.

I start running.

The first few kilometres are stiff, my limbs arguing against the rhythm I'm trying to set. But slowly—inevitably—everything begins to fall away. The noise, the thoughts, the remnants of dreams I barely remember. They scatter behind me, lost to the sound of my breath and the slap of my shoes on the gravel path.

7km today. However long it takes.

The longer I go, the more I feel the shift. That quiet transformation that comes when my muscles begin to burn and the world starts to narrow. Not painfully—peacefully. Like my body and the road are the only things that exist. My mind empties, the past and future evaporating into the soft thrum of the present.

I pass an elderly couple feeding the ducks. A dad jogging beside a tiny, determined toddler on a scooter. Teenagers stretched across the grass, half-asleep under sunglasses. The world turns gently around me, and for a while, I let it.

Sweat trickles down my spine. My shirt clings to me. The heat's no longer just external—it's in my lungs, my limbs, everywhere. But I keep going. One foot. Then the next.

When I finally finish, I make it to the soccer field and collapse backwards into the long, warm grass, limbs sprawled, chest heaving. The sky is a wash of blue above me, too bright to look at directly. I close my eyes instead. Try to will my body temperature back down. Try to breathe.

After a few minutes, I push myself up on my elbows and blink blearily toward the edge of the field. Lunch flickers through my mind—maybe eggs and toast. Or pasta. Blake mentioned she was craving strawberries yesterday. Maybe I'd pick some up. And Rodger's rope toy is in tatters, so maybe the pet store on the corner...

That's when I see it.

A sleek black SUV parked across the street, engine off, windows tinted. Nothing out of place, not exactly—but my stomach dips. I've seen that car before. The past few days, here and there. Always lingering. Always facing wherever I happened to be.

I squint. Tell myself it's just someone waiting for a friend. Or lost. But my feet feel heavy when I stand. My pulse jumps just slightly.

I walk.

Toward the edge of the park, toward the street, trying to act casual. But when I reach the corner and glance over my shoulder, the SUV is gone. Just... gone.

A chill prickles down my spine despite the heat.

I shake it off. Keep walking. The pet store is cool and bright inside, the scent of hay and sawdust a welcome relief. I pick out a ridiculous braided rope toy with a squeaky fox head that I know Rodger will decimate in twenty minutes flat.

And when I step outside with the little bag in hand, the SUV is there.

Again.

Parked just across the road this time.

That's it.

It's hot. My tank top clings to my back, damp with sweat. I'd just finished 7 kilometres, legs aching, lungs tight, and now I'm standing outside the pet store with a rope chew toy in hand, trying to convince myself I'm being dramatic. That it's just a coincidence.