A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 43: CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

KYLE

Ashley straightened her shoulders, forcing a calm breath through her lips. For a moment, she looked like she might say something else, something honest—but then her walls shot back up, sharp and impenetrable.

“Look, Kyle,” she began, her voice low but steady. “What happened that night...” She paused, her gaze flickering with a hint of something vulnerable before it vanished. “It was a mistake.”

Mistake.

The single word sliced through me like a blade, precise and unforgiving. Mistake. My jaw clenched, the sting sharper than I expected. My fingers curled into a fist at my side, but I didn’t move.

Her eyes locked on mine, unflinching, as if daring me to argue. But the worst part wasn’t her resolve—it was the glimmer of something deeper, something raw she was desperately trying to hide. Hurt. Betrayal. And somewhere beneath it all... love she no longer wanted to feel.

She kept going, each word landing like a deliberate blow.

“It was... a moment of weakness,” she said, her tone steady but distant, as if she had rehearsed this very speech for days. “I was vulnerable. I was drunk. And you know that. Don’t fool yourself into thinking it meant something more.” She let out a short, humorless laugh, though her eyes betrayed her. “Whatever we had... it ended two years ago.”

The finality in her voice echoed louder than the music around us, louder than the thrum of my own heartbeat that threatened to drown me.

“A mistake,” I repeated bitterly, tasting the word on my tongue like poison. I scoffed, shaking my head. “Right. Because it’s that easy to forget, huh?”

Her hazel eyes darkened, a flicker of frustration—or was it regret?—crossing her face. “Forgetting isn’t the hard part,” she shot back, her voice cracking slightly, though she quickly masked it with a sharp breath. “It’s the remembering that hurts. And I’ve done more than enough of that.”

I let out a low, humorless chuckle, though the ache in my chest felt anything but funny. “Funny. Because that night didn’t feel like you’d forgotten anything.”

Her breath hitched—so faint, so brief, but I caught it. She blinked, and for a moment, I thought she might let her guard down. But then, her mask of indifference slid back into place.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kyle,” she said coolly, though her voice trembled just enough to betray her calm facade. She stepped closer, the space between us electric with unspoken emotions, her whisper cutting deeper than any scream ever could. “You think that night proved something? Fine. You’re right. It did mean something to me.”

Her words made my breath catch, hope flickering to life inside me like a dying flame.

But then she shattered it in an instant.

“Great. It meant something,” she continued. “What do you want me to do with that? Forget everything you did? Forget every lie, every broken promise? Just... pretend none of it happened and run back into your arms like nothing’s changed?”

I opened my mouth to respond, to beg her to listen, but she wasn’t done.

Her voice, though quiet, carried a weight that left me breathless. “Do you have any idea how hard I fought to let you go? How many nights I spent trying to convince myself that loving you wasn’t worth the pain? And now you’re here, asking me to believe that one night changes everything?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes glistening, but she refused to let a single tear fall. “I can’t do that, Kyle. I won’t.”

I took a step forward, desperation clawing at my chest. “Ashley—”

“No.” She shook her head, firm and unrelenting. “Last night... it was a moment. A fleeting, reckless moment. And that’s all it will ever be.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing with renewed determination. “It was a mistake. And whatever we had... died two years ago.”

The words knocked the wind out of me, leaving me raw and exposed. I reached out, my fingers aching to touch her, to hold her, to pull her back. But before I could, she stepped back, out of reach.

“There’s nothing left to say,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding in my head.

And then she turned, walking away with a confidence that left me standing there, motionless. I watched her disappear into the crowd, every fiber of me screaming to go after her, to make her see that this wasn’t over.

Because it wasn’t.

Not even close.

****

The party carried on around me, laughter and conversation blending into an indistinct buzz that barely registered. The first half of dinner passed in a blur, the clinking of glasses and soft scrape of silverware against plates serving as little more than background noise. I pushed food around on my plate, appetite long gone. My mind was elsewhere—on her.

Ashley sat at the far end of the table, effortlessly poised, her laughter light and charming as she engaged in conversation. But no matter how well she masked it, I could feel the tension between us like a live wire humming through the room.

Every time she smiled, every time her eyes sparkled under the dim glow of the chandeliers, I felt that familiar ache. She was doing everything she could to pretend I didn’t exist, but I caught her—more than once—stealing glances when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.

“You’re not exactly subtle,” Ryan muttered beside me, not bothering to look up from his drink. “If you stare any harder, you’re going to set her on fire.”

“Look who’s talking,” I shot back quietly, leaning toward him. “You’ve never been known for subtlety. Especially when it came to handling anyone stupid enough to cross you back in high school.”

Ryan chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “Fair point,” he admitted, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “But things change when you find someone worth changing for.”

His gaze flickered to Violet, who was deep in conversation with Ashley, a soft smile lighting up her face. She hadn’t noticed him watching her, but the intensity in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Falling for Violet mellowed you out,” I muttered, half-joking. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Ryan smirked. “Love will do that to you.” His eyes flicked back to me, sharp and observant. “Maybe you should give it a try. Or maybe... just maybe, it’s time to stop chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught.”

His words landed like a punch to the gut, sharp and unforgiving. I clenched my jaw, swallowing the retort that burned at the back of my throat. He didn’t get it. No one did.

I wasn’t chasing Ashley out of desperation.

I was chasing her because she was the only person who had ever made me feel like something more than the sum of my mistakes.

I leaned back in my chair, forcing a smirk. “Thanks for the unsolicited therapy session, Dr. Jenkins.”

Ryan chuckled, leaning closer. “Anytime”

I glanced back at her—laughing softly at something Violet had said, her eyes sparkling, her guard perfectly in place. She was the one thing I could never fully let go of, no matter how much time had passed or how many mistakes I’d made.

It is—

A loud clatter shattered the hum of conversation, followed by a harsh, guttural choking. The sound was jarring, unnatural, and then... silence.

The dining room stilled, every whisper and clink of glass abruptly cut off. My head snapped toward the source of the commotion, heart pounding.

One of the guests had slumped forward, face buried in his plate, wine pooling around the edges. His tailored navy suit was unmistakable, as was the shock of neatly styled blonde hair.

Charles Whitaker. The CEO of Whitaker Industries.

Ryan was out of his seat in an instant, chair scraping loudly against the polished floor. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the tense hush.

“I—I don’t know,” stammered the woman seated beside Whitaker, her hands trembling as she reached out but dared not touch him. “We were talking and then... he just... collapsed.”

“Is he okay?” someone whispered, their voice barely audible. “He’s not moving... oh God, what if—”

The room held its breath as Ryan leaned over the man, pressing two fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. His expression hardened, and I knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

“He’s dead.”

For a moment, no one moved. No one breathed. And then chaos erupted.

Gasps and shrieks echoed through the room as guests scrambled to their feet. Half of them rushed toward the exit, shoving past one another in panic, while the rest bolted toward the restrooms, their faces pale with dread— just in case the cause was more than a tragic accident.

The crowd surged around me, a frantic, faceless mass and I lost sight of Ryan and Violet but my focus narrowed to one thought. One person.

Ashley.

I shoved through the crush of bodies, heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. The buzz of panic faded into a dull roar in my ears. I didn’t know what had happened to Charles Whitaker, but none of it mattered right now. Not until I knew she was safe.