Chapter 1: Under City Lights

The glittering skyline of downtown Chicago stretched beyond Evan Cole’s window, neon reflections glimmering on rain-slicked glass. The city’s pulse thrummed below—a distant siren, the echo of late-night traffic, and the steady hum of life drifting up from the streets.

Evan Cole’s lips parted, his normally sharp, composed face suddenly softening, looking almost lost. His brows drew together, and in the shifting city light, he seemed stripped bare of every defense.

Beyond the glass, the L train rattled by, its headlights flashing across his features, adding a fleeting glow that softened his guarded expression. His jaw tightened, then relaxed, his body betraying a storm of feeling he could no longer hide. The air from the cracked window carried the scent of rain and distant street food.

"What are you saying?" His voice was a hush, trembling with hope and dread.

The words lingered, suspended between them in the hush of the apartment. Evan’s hands, usually so steady, fumbled with his sleeve, knuckles white, eyes fixed on Lauren’s face as if searching for a lifeline.

He needed Lauren Archer to spell it out, to say what he’d barely dared to imagine.

A thousand half-finished conversations and late-night fantasies unraveled in the silence, his carefully rehearsed lines dissolving as the moment turned real. The walls he’d spent years building began to crumble, leaving him exposed in a way he’d never allowed before.

All the imagined dramatic reunions, the stubborn bitterness, the lonely birthdays—they all fell away in the face of this single, raw question.

Suddenly, the pain and baggage of the past felt lighter, almost childish, compared to the fragile hope flickering between them. The bitterness that had kept him up so many nights seemed small now, swallowed up by the possibility of something real.

Was he in love with her?

The thought crashed through him—simple, terrifying, all-consuming. His heart pounded so hard he was sure Lauren could hear it over the patter of rain against the window.

How could he not be?

Every second with her had always felt like gravity—inescapable, impossible to resist. The idea of not loving her was as absurd as denying sunlight or air.

Was his sister’s question really what he thought it was?

He tried to calm his breathing, but his mind raced. Was she really asking if he still loved her? The hope and fear twisted together, tightening his chest.

His fingers shook, emotion surging so strong he wanted to pull Lauren closer, to never let go.

He gripped the hem of her shirt, needing something solid to hold onto as the world narrowed to just the two of them, the heat of her body, and the words left unsaid.

Then, Lauren kissed him.

He went still, startled—then melted into the kiss, the city and the storm outside falling away. For a heartbeat, the world stopped, time pausing as her lips met his.

All the chaos inside him stilled, replaced by the sound of two hearts beating wildly in the dark.

He felt her pulse thrum against his chest, matching his own, the city outside blurring into the hush of their breathing and the rain’s gentle tap.

Lauren had closed the distance—a kiss that was both comfort and confession.

She drew back, her eyes shining with the same naked vulnerability he felt. The kiss was feather-light but spoke volumes—an answer and a promise.

"Evan, I’ve been around so long, I honestly can’t remember my age. I’m basically an old lady at this point—always lost in my head, stuck on the past, slow to catch up."

Her laugh was soft and a little self-mocking. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing up at the ceiling as if searching for words.

"Guess I’m a hopeless romantic, huh? Sorry it took me forever to figure it out." Lauren’s voice was slow but steady, her gaze finally meeting his, full of resolve.

She squeezed his hand, grounding herself in the moment. Her voice was sure, her eyes unwavering, as if she’d finally made peace with her heart.

"I don’t really know what love is supposed to look like. But I know I love you. So much."

Her voice wavered at the end, her cheeks flushing as she bit her lip. The words hung between them, brave and fragile.

"And you, do you still... you know..."

Her question trailed off, voice trembling, hands twisting nervously in her lap, terrified of his answer.

Do you still love her, or is there only resentment left? The thought of losing him after coming this far made her throat ache.

She swallowed hard, eyes bright with unshed tears. The fear of losing him again was almost too much to bear.

Before she could finish, Evan kissed her—hard, desperate, and full of everything he’d never said.

He pulled her in, hands cupping her face, pouring every ounce of longing and love into the kiss. His lips were insistent, determined to erase any doubt.

He loved her. He’d always loved her.

He broke away just long enough to whisper, lips brushing hers, "I love you."

And maybe, he’d loved her even before he realized it.

A memory flashed—her laughter on a summer day, the way she’d always known how to make him feel safe. He understood now: every moment had led here.

After a long moment, Evan let go, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pressed his face into her hair, breathing her in.

He buried his face in her shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo, letting his tension dissolve.

He seemed to love holding her like this—vulnerable, hesitant, and completely open.

His grip tightened unconsciously, as if letting go would make her disappear again. Her warmth soothed every old wound.

Lauren stroked his back, slow and gentle, her touch a promise that she was real.

Her fingers traced lazy circles, and she hummed a half-remembered lullaby, the kind they’d shared as kids.

"You answered my question. Let me answer yours."

She shifted, nestling into his arms, her voice muffled but sure.

Held close, her words vibrated against his chest.

She nuzzled into him, drawing strength from his heartbeat. The room felt safe, sealed off from the world.

"It’s only my second day back. I never planned to leave again. I came for you, and I’m not going anywhere."

She looked up, eyes shining with conviction. "I’m here. For you."

"If I left, there’d be no more you. I’d never find anyone like you again."

Her words were quiet but certain. She squeezed his hand, thumb brushing his knuckles in silent promise.

Evan’s arms were strong and warm, chasing away the last of the night’s chill. He didn’t ask for anything more. He just called her, "Sis."

His voice, grown deep and magnetic, made her heart ache with old longing. The name was a greeting and a plea, a reminder of everything they’d been and everything they could be.

"Let’s go home, Evan. Take me home."

She reached for his hand, grip steady. The word "home" hung in the air, full of hope.

"Okay."

He smiled for real—a rare, unguarded smile—and squeezed her hand.

Years ago, she’d held his hand and walked him home.

He remembered her small fingers wrapped around his, the comfort it brought.

Now, it was his turn to lead her.

He threaded his fingers through hers, guiding her gently toward the door.

After all the twists and turns, after that birthday at Navy Pier and the wish atop the Ferris wheel—

The memory of colored lights and laughter flashed between them, bittersweet and bright. Sometimes, wishes do come true.

He’d finally made his come true.

He exhaled, relief and joy mingling in his chest.

...Sis, this time, please don’t leave me again.

He didn’t say it aloud, but the words echoed inside him like a silent prayer.