Chapter 5: Old Wounds, New Faces

Coming out of the bathroom, I passed a lounge.

The hotel’s dim lighting spilled through the half-open door. I caught a glimpse inside—Madison, eyes red, clutching Chase’s shirt.

Her nails dug into Chase’s sleeve, leaving half-moons in the fabric. "I won’t let you go find Jenna."

Her voice was strained, desperate. The scene looked more like an argument from a TV soap than real life.

Chase’s face was dark. "Can you not make a scene?"

He pulled his shirt from her grip, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle ticking.

"Then promise me you won’t meet Jenna alone."

Madison, sobbing, said, "Jenna just left, and you followed her right after. If I hadn’t come after you, would you be rekindling old feelings with her right now?"

Her words echoed with jealousy, the kind that comes from old wounds never really healed.

Chase looked exhausted. "I told you, there’s nothing between us. Why can’t you believe me?"

His voice was flat, tired, like he’d been through this argument a hundred times before.

Madison cried even harder. "You kept staring at her just now. When you heard she was married, you almost crushed your glass. Chase, you clearly haven’t let her go."

She was clinging to his arm, mascara streaking down her cheeks. The drama was messy, raw.

"It’s been eight years. You’ve never stopped looking for her. Can you really say you don’t still care about her…"

"Enough." Chase cut her off coldly. "If you want to make a scene in front of everyone, go ahead…"

His voice was icy, final, like the slam of a door.

I didn’t listen any further.

I slipped away before either of them noticed me, heart beating fast—not out of fear, but from a sense of relief. Their problems were no longer mine.

Back in the banquet room, I looked around—Chase was gone.

There was a murmur at the bar, someone mentioning his name, but he was nowhere in sight. Madison’s laughter echoed from the hallway.

Tessa pulled me over. "Jenna, do you know who just arrived?"

Her excitement was contagious, her grip on my arm tight with anticipation.

"Who?"

"Zach Yates."

I was stunned. Then I heard her sigh dreamily, "Didn’t expect him to show up. To see that face again in this life—I can die happy."

She fanned herself with a napkin, playfully dramatic. "That man’s jawline is still illegal in all fifty states."

Her exaggerated expression made me laugh. "It’s not that dramatic."

I tried to hide my grin, but it was no use. The nervous energy in the room had shifted to something lighter.

"It is, it is! If you don’t believe me, just wait."

As we spoke, the door opened.

Chase walked in, but Madison was nowhere to be seen.

Then, a tall, laid-back figure strolled in.

It was Zach Yates.

He wore a classic navy suit, tie loosened, the kind of swagger that comes from knowing you’re the best-looking guy in the room. His smile was slow, a little crooked.

Our eyes met. I stood up and started toward him, but Chase stepped in front of me.

He blocked my path, hands in his pockets, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him.

"Jenna, let’s talk."

At that, I instinctively looked at Zach.

He leaned against the door, smiling lazily, and winked at me.

The ease in his gaze made me feel seen—not just looked at, but actually seen. For the first time in a long time, I realized: the past didn’t own me anymore.

As I met Zach’s eyes, he grinned and said, "Long time no see, Jenna. Ready to make some new memories?"