Chapter 230

Chapter 230
Sadie's POV

I woke up to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows.

Wrong windows.

My body felt heavy, like I'd been asleep for days. The sheets smelled like expensive detergent and something else—something that made my chest tighten before my brain fully caught up.

I sat up too fast. The room spun.

This wasn't my cramped London flat. This was the guest room at the Montgomery estate. The one with the view of the gardens and the ridiculous thread count sheets that probably cost more than my entire month's rent.

"You're awake."

Jake's voice came from the chair by the window. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes—rumpled t-shirt, jeans that looked like he'd slept in them. Which he probably had, because he was sitting there watching me like he'd been doing it all night.

"Are you insane?" My voice came out scratchy. "Did you seriously drag me from London to Lincoln Heights while I was sleeping?"

He didn't answer. Just looked at me with those light blue eyes that used to make me forget how to form sentences in high school.

They still kind of did.

"Jake." I gripped the sheets tighter. "This is kidnapping. Actual kidnapping."

"You can call the cops if you want." His voice was flat. Tired. "Tell them I brought my girlfriend home."

"I'm not—" I stopped. Because what was I going to say? That I wasn't his girlfriend? After last night?

God, last night.

My face burned. I looked away, focusing on the garden outside. The roses were blooming. Diane must be thrilled.

"You remember." It wasn't a question. My throat felt tight. "Don't you?"

The silence stretched so long I thought maybe he'd left the room. But when I finally looked back, he was still there. Still watching me with that expression I couldn't read.

"Most of it," he said finally. "Including your dad."

My stomach dropped.

"Jake—"

"I should've put him in the hospital when I had the chance." His voice went hard. Dangerous. "If I'd just finished what I started three years ago, you'd have your State Department career right now instead of hiding in London making coffee for trust fund kids."

He stood up, crossed to the bed. I couldn't move as he braced his hands on either side of me, caging me in.

"I was too soft," he said. "I let him walk away. And look what it cost you."

"Stop." The word came out broken. "Just stop."

But he didn't. He kept looking at me like I was something precious he'd lost and found again, and it was too much. Everything was too much.

The tears came before I could stop them.

"What dream?" I choked out. "What does any of that matter when you—" I couldn't finish. Couldn't tell him that watching him almost destroy his future over my dad had been worse than losing the career I'd spent years working toward.

"Sadie."

"You're the dream," I said. The words tumbled out messy and desperate. "You're the only thing that matters. If I had to choose between the State Department and you being okay—" My voice cracked. "There's no choice. There was never a choice."

His expression shifted. Something raw and vulnerable crossed his face before he could hide it.

"You don't mean that."

"I do." I was crying harder now, couldn't stop. "I'd give up everything. Every single thing. As long as you're okay, I'm okay. That's how it works."

He reached out, thumbs wiping away my tears with a gentleness that made my chest ache. His hands were shaking slightly.

We didn't say anything else. Just sat there as the morning light got brighter, filling the room with gold. His arms came around me and I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing him in—soap and laundry detergent and something underneath that was just Jake.

Outside, I could hear birds. The distant sound of someone mowing a lawn. Normal morning sounds in a morning that felt anything but.

"How did you even find me?" I asked eventually, my voice muffled against his shirt.

"Liam told me." He pulled back enough to look at me. "And I talked to my parents. This morning. About us."

My heart stopped. "You what?"

"They know you're back." His jaw tightened slightly. "My mom wanted me to tell you—don't blame my dad. For what he told you three years ago."

Fresh tears pricked my eyes. "I never blamed him. He was trying to protect you. I get that."

"Well, you can tell him yourself." Jake's expression softened. "They want to see you. When you're ready."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"Sadie." He caught my chin, made me look at him. "Even if you'd stabbed me yourself, I wouldn't have broken up with you. You get that, right? So why the hell didn't you tell me about seeing your dad? Why did you just—" His voice cracked. "Why did you leave?"

"Because I was scared." The admission hurt. "I was scared you'd do something stupid. Something that would ruin everything you'd worked for. And I couldn't—" I swallowed hard. "I couldn't be the reason you threw your life away."

His eyes searched mine. "What else?"

"What?"

"There's something else. I can tell."

Damn him for knowing me so well.

"I found the letter," I said quietly. "In your desk drawer. The one you wrote to—to someone."

For a second he just stared at me. Then he started laughing.

Actually laughing.

"That's not funny," I said, but my face was heating up.

"Baby." He cupped my face, still grinning. "That letter was for you."

My brain short-circuited. "But—it didn't have a name—"

"Because I couldn't remember." He kissed my forehead. "I had this feeling, you know? Like I'd forgotten something important. Someone important. So I wrote it all down. Everything I felt. And I kept it, thinking maybe one day I'd figure out who it was for."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." His thumb traced my cheekbone. "You jealous, Brooks?"

"Shut up."

"You were. You were jealous of yourself."

"I hate you."

"No you don't." He was still smiling, but it faded into something more serious. "You think I didn't know you were watching me? Back in high school?"

My face went nuclear. "I wasn't—"

"You'd take the long way past the football field." His voice went soft. "Every Tuesday and Thursday. I used to time my water breaks so I'd be there when you walked by."

"You didn't."

"I did." He brushed my hair back. "You had those glasses. The big ones that were too big for your face. And you'd pretend to be looking at your phone but I could see you peeking."

I wanted to die. Actually die.

"I thought you didn't notice me."

"Sadie." He leaned his forehead against mine. "I noticed everything. The way you'd bite your lip when you were nervous. How you'd tuck your hair behind your ear when someone talked to you. That little smile you'd get when you thought no one was looking."

"Jake—"

"I was obsessed with you," he said. "Completely gone. And I thought—" He laughed, but it sounded pained. "I thought you were way too good for some jock who could barely string a sentence together around you."

"That's not true."

"It is true. You were so smart. So focused. And I was just—" He shook his head. "I was just some guy who was good at throwing a ball."

"You were never just anything," I said fiercely. "You were everything."