Chapter 1: The Night Everything Broke

The night I turned eighteen, I snuck into my childhood friend’s house. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure someone would hear it. My palms were sweating as I crept up the stairs—finally—ready to tell him how I felt, or at least try.

The air was heavy with the scent of old books and laundry detergent, so familiar it made my head spin—nostalgia and nerves all tangled up inside me.

But he was gone all night. He was nowhere to be found. The house felt empty, every shadow stretching long and silent—as if the whole house was holding its breath, just like me.

I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I waited until sunrise. I sat on the edge of his bed, knees hugged to my chest, listening to the house creak and settle. When dawn finally painted the sky pink, voices drifted in from the front hallway—it was my childhood friend and his older brother talking, their laughter echoing up the stairs.

“Emily’s an adult now. You don’t have to hold back anymore, so why’d you go out with the prom queen last night instead?” his brother teased, with that older-brother mischief you only get from growing up together.

That familiar voice answered, lazy and a little smug. “Emily’s not in great shape. I don’t want to hurt her. Let’s just wait a few more years, okay?”

I couldn’t believe it. My heart seemed to—stop and start again, stuttering in my chest.

Because of my heart condition, Noah Bennett had always treated me like I was made of glass. He’d always been there—patching up my scraped knees, bringing me soup when I was sick, making me laugh when I felt small. Sometimes I wondered if he even saw me as a girl at all, or just as someone to keep safe.

Our families had even arranged a childhood engagement for us back when we were kids. It was one of those small-town things—everyone joked about it, but deep down, it always felt like a real promise.

Three months ago, on Noah’s birthday, we kissed long and deep on his parents’ couch. The TV was on—some late-night sitcom rerun—but all I remember is the way his hands shook when he touched my face.

I could see the strain in his eyes as I reached to unbutton his shirt. My hands trembled, but I wanted him to know how much I trusted him, how much I wanted him.

But Noah gently stopped me. “Emily, you’re not eighteen yet.” His voice was soft. There was a line, and I knew I couldn’t cross it.

He said our first time was meant to be with each other, and that it didn’t matter if it happened sooner or later. He’d smiled at me, brushing my hair back from my face, and I wanted to believe him. I really did.

And last night, I finally turned eighteen. I’d counted down the days. Every one marked with a little heart on my calendar. I was sure this would be the night everything changed.

I’d been so excited, sure I’d spend an amazing night with the boy I loved. But Noah was off with someone else. The realization felt like ice water, slow and numbing, soaking through my bones.

The voices outside the door came closer. I wrapped myself tighter in the blanket. Shame and cold washed over me.

I felt like a trespasser in my own memories—hiding from the truth, wishing I could just disappear.

Suddenly, it sounded like Noah’s phone rang. The ringtone was the same silly pop song we’d danced to at homecoming last year.

“It’s Madison. She says she’s bleeding a little. I gotta go check on her. Bro, no games today—let’s hang out tomorrow.” Noah sounded worried, his voice losing its usual lazy edge.

“Oh, so you even made the prom queen bleed? Must’ve been wild last night.” His brother’s laugh was sharp, almost cruel. It stung.

“I thought twice would be enough, but she wouldn’t let me go. Kept pulling me back all night.”

Noah let out a lazy laugh. “Lucky it was her last night. I could never stand to see Emily get hurt.” Every word landed heavy—a stone in my stomach.

After they left, I lost it. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. My hands gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white, as my whole body shook.

All those years with Noah—flashing through my mind. The time we built a pillow fort in his living room, the time he carried me home in the rain, the way he always made me feel like I belonged.

Big tears rolled down. My vision blurred.

Pressed my forehead to the cool mirror, wishing I could just melt away.

All those sweet moments I’d treasured just made me feel like the punchline to some cruel joke. My chest hurt worse than ever.

I forced myself to calm down, called a Lyft, and headed home. Noah’s mom was waiting for me.

She was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, but her face softened when she saw me.

She greeted me, warm as ever. “My sweet daughter-in-law is back.” Her voice had that familiar lilt, the one that always made me feel like part of the family.

The title that used to make me blush now it just hurt. Slow and steady, carving me open. I looked down at my shoes, wishing I could run away from her words.

I met her eyes. “Mrs. Bennett, please don’t call me that anymore. I’m not your daughter-in-law.” My voice was steadier than I felt.

I never will be. The thought echoed—hollow and final.