Chapter 68: Madeline
The next morning feels quieter somehow—like the whole town’s holding its breath after yesterday.
Finn and Liam left early, still looking half-guilty, half-determined as they grabbed tools and headed down toward the harbour. I told them—again—that I was fine, that I wasn’t mad, that they didn’t need to keep apologizing every time I blinked. But they did anyway. Typical.
Now it’s just me and Charlie in the house. She insisted I stay in pajamas, so I’m wrapped in a blanket burrito on the couch, a mug of tea cupped in both hands, while she flips through Netflix like it’s a serious art.
When she finally lands on How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, she grins. “Perfect. Healing cinema.”
I laugh softly. “You mean delusional cinema.”
“Same thing.” She plops down beside me, tucking her legs under the blanket too. “You need comfort. Matthew McConaughey and questionable journalism will fix your trauma.”
I snort into my tea. “Right. A head injury and emotional whiplash—cured by bad rom-coms.”
“Exactly,” she says, raising her mug like a toast.
We make it about fifteen minutes in before she turns down the volume and looks at me, all sly and knowing. “So… the twins must’ve been pissed yesterday.”
I hum noncommittally, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “That’s… one word for it.”
“You don’t remember much?” she asks.
“Bits and pieces.”
What I don’t tell her: I remember Jake’s hand pressing against my chest, steady and firm, telling me not to move.
Reid’s fingers on my chin, the rough warmth of his palm against my neck.
Jake’s calm voice. Reid’s sharp one.
Both kind, both patient—and both so intense it made my heart stutter. Always intense, no matter what they do.
Charlie hums. “They’re always mad, but yesterday? They had a reason. I’d have lost it too if I saw that happen.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “They were both… different.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Different how?”
I hesitate, then shrug. “Just—gentler. Even Reid, in his own way.”
“Reid’s version of gentle is like… a glacier deciding not to crush a town,” she says, grinning.
I laugh. “That’s disturbingly accurate.”
She chuckles, then nudges me with her foot. “And Jake? I bet he went all calm and brooding, didn’t he? He gets quieter when he’s worried.”
I try to play it off, but my lips twitch. “Something like that.”
Charlie’s grin widens. “Knew it.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re reading too much into this.”
“I’m reading exactly enough,” she counters. “You almost got yourself decapitated by rogue storage equipment, and two of the most emotionally unavailable men in the province lost their minds about it. Excuse me if I find that fascinating.”
I bury my face in the blanket. “You’re insane.”
“I’m observant,” she says, laughing.
I peek out from under the blanket, smirking. “Sure.”
Her smile softens a little. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Yesterday scared everyone. You especially gave Reid a heart attack, I think.”
“Reid?”
She nods. “He doesn’t show it, but trust me—he feels it. He was all clipped words and clenched jaw when they got back. That’s his version of panic.”
My chest tightens slightly at that, though I don’t know why.
Charlie, of course, notices. “Oh no,” she teases. “You’re totally blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You so are.”
“Stop analyzing me!”
She laughs, throwing her head back. “God, I missed having another girl around. The boys never let me tease them like this.”
I grin, shaking my head. “Now I see why.”
“Whatever,” she says, waving her hand. “Just admit it—talking to me and watching a girly movie is exactly what youd needed.”
I groan. “You’re unbearable.”
“Maybe,” she says, turning the movie’s volume back up. “But I’m not wrong.”
I hide my smile behind my mug as she laughs at the screen, the soft light flickering across her face.
It’s easier this morning—lighter.
Still, as the movie goes on and she hums along to the background music, my thoughts drift.
Back to Reid’s voice—low, steady.
To Jake’s hands, warm and sure.
To that intensity that lingers even now, long after the chaos is over.
And despite myself, I can still feel it.
Like an aftershock under my skin.
By the time the movie hits its halfway point, we’re both laughing so hard it hurts. Charlie keeps yelling at the screen—“Don’t fall for him, Andie! You’re supposed to break his heart!”—and I’m crying from laughing, clutching my tea before it spills.
Every time there’s a kiss, she throws a pillow or groans dramatically, and I scream-laugh beside her, pretending to hide under the blanket. It’s ridiculous and warm and perfect. For the first time in a while, I feel light again.
Somewhere between the chaos and the credits, I realize just how much I love her. Charlie’s everything I never had in a friend—cool and beautiful and so kind it’s almost unfair. She’s sunshine and chaos rolled together, and I can’t believe I get to share a roof with her.
I’m about to tell her that—right then, before I lose the nerve—when she suddenly gasps and sits upright.
“Oh my god, I forgot!”
I blink, startled. “What?”
Her grin is mischievous, the kind that makes me nervous. “Now’s probably not the best time, but… we’re throwing a party next week.”
“A party?” I echo, laughing. “For what?”
“The twins’ birthday.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Wait—they have birthdays?”
She snorts. “Contrary to popular belief, yes. They’re not immortal sea demons, Mads.”
I giggle, shaking my head. “I just… can’t picture either of them at a party.”
“Oh, that’s the best part,” she says, sitting cross-legged and animated now. “They hate parties. Which is why it’s fun. They show up all grumpy and tight-lipped, and then, like two hours in, someone gets them a drink or they start arguing about music, and boom—they actually have fun.”
I laugh, hard. “You’re telling me Reid Anderson—Captain Doom himself—has fun?”
“Oh, he does,” Charlie says, grinning like she’s seen things. “Jake too. You just have to catch them off guard.”
“I’m not sure that’s even possible.”
“Well, you’ll see,” she says, shrugging. “But you have to come. Or at least help me set it up.”
I hesitate, twisting the blanket between my fingers. “I don’t know if they’ll even want me there…”
“Please,” Charlie says, waving me off. “Half of Northhaven’s coming. It’s not like you’ll be sitting in a corner making awkward eye contact with them the whole night.”
“I probably will,” I say under my breath.
She throws a pillow at me. “You’re coming. End of discussion.”
I can’t help but smile. “Fine,” I say, pretending to sound reluctant. “I’ll come.”
She claps once, triumphant. “Good. We’ll get you something to wear too. Something that makes all the boys in Northhaven go crazy over you.”
I laugh again, shaking my head. “That’s… terrifying.”
Charlie grins. “That’s the point.”
And as she starts planning out decorations and snacks aloud, I realize—I’m already looking forward to it.