Chapter 19: The Mystery Guest

Jason was the most withdrawn of all the guests.

He arrived with a single duffel bag and an air of mystery, keeping mostly to himself. The locals made up stories about him—a runaway rockstar, an undercover cop—but I just saw a man carrying more weight than he let on.

Most of the time, he stayed in his room alone and rarely came out.

He’d emerge late at night to make coffee or sit quietly on the porch, guitar resting on his knee, eyes lost in the distance. There was something about his solitude that drew me in.

Only when there were few people did he appear on the porch.

He’d nod politely, maybe offer a smile, but never linger. I caught him watching the sunset more than once, lost in thought.

At first, I was worried something would happen to him, so I unconsciously paid extra attention.

I found myself leaving fresh towels at his door, slipping extra cookies onto his breakfast plate, inventing reasons to check in on him.

Until one day, I was sunbathing in the yard when he walked over, half-smiling, and asked:

The sun was high, casting dappled shadows across the grass. Jason appeared at the edge of the porch, his smile crooked. “Do I really look like someone who can’t get over things?”

I looked up at him in surprise.

I fumbled with my sunglasses, caught off guard by his directness. My cheeks flushed, but I tried to play it cool.