Chapter 5: Storms, Gifts, and Last Chances

But half an hour later, our housekeeper poked her head in. Chase was waiting outside the gate, wanting to see me.

She sounded worried, peeking through the curtains. I groaned, rubbing my temples. The last thing I needed was more drama.

Was he here to gloat? Or just couldn’t let go? Either way, I didn’t want to see him.

I didn’t want any more drama.

I was tired—bone-deep tired. I just wanted peace.

So I told the housekeeper, “Tell him I’m not here. He should leave.”

She nodded, biting her lip. I could see the pity in her eyes, but I ignored it.

Back in my room on the second floor, I peeked out the window and saw him standing by the gate.

He looked so out of place—drenched in porch light, shoulders hunched against the wind. My heart twisted. I forced myself to look away.

Even from so far away, in the dim light where I couldn’t make out his face, I still felt like his gaze was locked on me.

It was like he could see straight through the glass, straight through my bravado.

My heart started pounding for no reason.

I pressed a hand to my chest, willing it to slow down. I hated that he still had this effect on me.

An hour later, it began to rain hard, but Chase still didn’t leave.

Thunder rattled the windows. Rain drummed a steady rhythm on the roof. Still, he stood there.

Annoyed, I tossed my phone aside, turned off the lights, and buried myself under the covers, telling myself not to think about it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown out the sound of the storm—and the memory of him waiting in the rain for me.

Thunder rumbled outside. Then—noise on the balcony.

I sat up, heart racing. The wind howled, and for a second, I thought I’d imagined it. Then I saw the shadow move.

A shadow loomed by my bed in the darkness.

I barely had time to scream. Then—“Baby, don’t be scared. It’s me.”

My scalp tingled. Right now, Chase was terrifying.

He was soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead. There was something wild in his eyes. Something I didn’t recognize.

The bedside lamp flicked on.

The sudden light made me flinch. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, heart pounding.

I clutched the blanket and shrank against the headboard, my voice trembling. “Chase, what do you want?”

I tried to sound brave, but my voice came out small. He looked at me like I was the only thing in the world.

He pulled a pink diamond necklace from his pocket and held it out to me.

The necklace glittered in his palm—delicate, beautiful. My breath caught.

“Baby, this is your two-year anniversary gift.”

“I didn’t get a chance to give it to you last time.”

His voice was soft, almost shy. He looked at me—like he was offering me his heart.

His bangs were soaked with rain, his eyes a little wild.

He looked like he’d run through a hurricane just to get to me. Part of me wanted to reach out, to pull him close.

“Let me put it on you, okay?”

He stepped closer, hands trembling. The necklace sparkled between us, a fragile peace offering.

It was the latest limited-edition necklace from M, the one I’d casually complimented before it even hit the market.

I remembered seeing it in a magazine, pointing it out with a laugh. I never thought he’d actually get it for me.

I never thought he’d remember, let alone get it so soon.

It was exactly my style—delicate, understated, with just enough sparkle. The kind of thing you only dream about owning.

If this were before, I would’ve hugged him. Kissed him in excitement.

I would have jumped into his arms, squealing with joy. Now? Just a deep, aching sadness.

But now…

I shook my head, reminding him again, “Chase, we’re already broken up.”

My voice was gentle, but firm. I needed him to hear me.

He pressed down on my shoulders, his gaze burning. “Baby, if we’re broken up, then I’ll just chase after you.” He smiled, a little crooked. “You chased me before—now it’s my turn, okay?”

“Chase, are you crazy?”

I stared at him, incredulous. Was this really happening?

I was shocked. Why was he still clinging to me when he already had Savannah?

It didn’t make sense. I wanted to shake him, to make him see reason.

The comments started up again.

[What is the hero doing? I don’t get it.]

[What’s so hard to understand? He’s a golden boy who’s never been dumped before. He’s just mistaking his pride for love. He’ll figure it out soon enough.]

[Poor baby, our precious girl is going to misunderstand again.]

[The side character is pulling the classic push-pull—backing off to bait him.]

[Don’t worry, once the heroine gets hurt and tries to leave, the hero will realize who he truly loves and rush after her.]

I rolled my eyes at the invisible audience. If only real life were that simple.

My heart sank. For a second, I actually believed he loved me.

His words, his touch—they almost made me forget everything. But the doubt lingered, heavy and sharp.

I pried his hands off, finally.

He resisted, but I pulled away. I needed space. I needed to breathe.

“Chase, instead of wasting your time on me, why not be with Savannah?”

“If you’re embarrassed about being dumped, just tell everyone you dumped me. I don’t care.”

“Please leave, or I’ll call the cops.”

I meant it. I was done being the backup plan, the consolation prize.

Chase shook his head, eyes red, and hugged me tightly.

He buried his face in my neck, his arms locked around me. I could feel his tears on my skin.

“Baby, I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”

“I don’t care that you dumped me, as long as you still want me.”

I know I can’t satisfy you physically, but ever since I fell for you, I’ve been working on desensitization.

“I’ve even tried other treatments. Just give me a little more time, okay?”

“Please…”

His voice cracked, raw and desperate. I could feel his pain, his hope, and it almost broke me.

His cheek pressed against mine, skin reddening from the allergy again.

I could see the hives blooming, his breath coming in short, painful bursts. Still, he refused to let go.

His body screamed to get away from me. But he clung like his life depended on it.

I wanted to push him away, to save him from himself, but I couldn’t move.

I struggled, but he grabbed the back of my head and kissed me, desperately, hungrily.

His lips were hot, feverish. He kissed me like he was drowning, like I was the only thing keeping him afloat.

Even when he couldn’t breathe from the allergy, he refused to let go.

His grip was iron. His need, overwhelming. I could feel his whole body trembling.

Afraid he’d go into shock again, I bit him hard and shoved him away.

He gasped, finally let go. I wiped my mouth, chest heaving.

“Chase, how long are you going to keep this up?”

“You know a severe allergy can kill you, right?”

My voice was sharp, but underneath it was fear—fear for him, fear for myself.

He forced the words out: "But compared to dying… I’m more afraid… of losing you."

His words hung in the air, heavy and final. I felt my resolve crumble.

With that, his body finally gave out, and he passed out again.

I caught him as he fell, my hands shaking. I called 911 again, my voice barely steady.

After getting Chase to the hospital, his last words echoed in my mind.

I sat in the waiting room, knees pulled to my chest, replaying everything he’d said. My heart wouldn’t settle, no matter how hard I tried.

My heart raced, refusing to calm down.

I pressed my fist to my chest. Willed myself not to cry. It was all too much.

Was he really just being stubborn, or was it something more?

I didn’t know what to believe anymore. I just knew I was tired—so, so tired.