Story cover for till forever falls apart || conrad fisher by sageskiesf1
till forever falls apart || conrad fisher
  • Reads 1,344
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  • Parts 18
  • Time 3h 25m
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Beneath the surface. °❀⋆ Conrad Fisher by bxllaawp
13 parts Ongoing Mature
It had been two years since Stassie had set foot in Cousins. Two years since the salty wind tangled in her hair, since the taste of sand lingered on her lips, since she'd ghosted the Fisher boys, the Conklin siblings, and the beach house that had once felt like the center of her summers. Now, at nineteen, she was coming back for the worst reason imaginable-Susannah's funeral. Her mother's best friend. The one person who had made Cousins feel like magic. She didn't expect the air to feel so heavy or the way eyes lingered on her as she crossed the old wooden pier toward the beach house. Two years was a long time to disappear without explanation, and Cousins never forgot. And then there was Luke-the oldest Fisher brother. Her fiancé. She'd met him again in the city last year, away from the tangled history of Cousins, away from the shadows of what she'd left behind. They'd fallen fast, too fast, and now here they were. Standing in the living room after Susannah's service, Stassie made her announcement-her and Luke were getting married. A ripple moved through the room, and she could feel Conrad's gaze like a storm brewing in the corner. His jaw tightened, his drink barely touched. Luke stayed only a week after the funeral, tied up in business he couldn't ignore, promising to plan their wedding from afar. He kissed her goodbye at the dock, leaving her on the porch of the house she'd once run from. And that was how Stassie found herself in Cousins all summer, trapped in the tides of old memories and unfinished conversations, with Conrad Fisher as her reluctant shadow. Two years of silence had left their mark-and now, every glance, every argument, every late-night run-in in the kitchen was thick with the weight of what had been left unsaid. By August, the beach house wasn't just holding a wedding in the making-it was holding a slow, quiet unraveling. Conrad x Oc
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