A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 48: CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

ASHLEY

Ethan stood there with that familiar easy smile. He wore a fitted navy button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the crisp fabric clinging to his broad shoulders. Dark jeans hugged his tall frame. His dark  hair was slightly tousled, and his deep eyes sparkled with amusement as he held up a to-go cup.

“I was in the area and thought I should drop by,” he said. He stepped forward, handing me the cup with a knowing grin. “Matcha. Figured you don’t need espresso this late in the day.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. The warmth of the cup seeped into my palms as I took a grateful sip, the familiar earthy flavor grounding me. I peered over the paper rim, studying him quietly.

I had told him about the store only a few days ago, not expecting him to remember. But that was Ethan—thoughtful, attentive, and always noticing the little things. Everything I should need in a man.

And yet, it felt hollow.

Still, a quiet voice in the back of my mind whispered that maybe...maybe I should give him a chance if he ever asked. I made a mental note to say yes if that day ever came.

“So,” Ethan said, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes soft and curious. “How’s everything going? The guys aren’t giving you a hard time, are they?”

I shook my head, setting my cup down. “No, they’ve actually been great. They said everything should be ready in about a week.”

Maybe sooner, I thought, if the upcoming holiday didn’t slow things down. Not that I was complaining. As much as I’d poured my heart into this shop, the thought of actually opening it made my stomach twist into knots.

What if no one comes? What if I accidentally burn the place down with one of my own candles? What if a pipe bursts, or it gets vandalized? Or worse...what if I get held up one night while closing?

It was a safe neighborhood, sure, but late nights alone in a shop full of expensive inventory? The thoughts sent a shiver down my spine.

Running a brick-and-mortar store felt worlds apart from the small online business I had managed back in Germany. I’d jumped into this new venture headfirst, fueled by fleeting excitement and barely any planning. Now, the weight of it all pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating.

“You’ll be fine,” Ethan said softly, as if he could read my mind. “I’m sure it’ll be a hit. The artisanal perfume and floral scent concept is fresh. New Yorkers love a unique idea.”

I smiled softly, feeling a little reassured by Ethan’s confidence in me. “Yeah. Nothing draws New Yorkers like a good—” My words trailed off, catching in my throat as my gaze drifted toward the large window overlooking the busy street below.

Tall frame. Broad shoulders. Crisp tailored suit. An air of quiet confidence that was impossible to ignore.

My heart stuttered violently in my chest, and my breath hitched. Fingers trembling, I clutched the edge of the counter as if it could steady the sudden storm inside me.

No... it couldn’t be.

But how? He didn’t know I was here. I never told him about the store.

I blinked hard, trying to ground myself, but when my eyes fluttered open again, the sidewalk was empty. A blur of strangers passed by, none of them familiar, none of them him.

He was gone.

I swallowed, forcing down the lump rising in my throat. Was I hallucinating seeing Kyle?

God, I must be losing my mind.

“Ashley?” Ethan’s voice pulled me back to the present, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

I forced a smile, though my heart still pounded in my ears. “Yeah. Sorry, I just... I thought I saw someone I knew.”

I reached for my mug, letting the warmth of the tea seep into my fingers as I took a slow sip, hoping it would calm the jittery unease tightening in my chest. The earthy bitterness grounded me, but my mind still ran circles around itself, tripping over old memories and unanswered questions.

Maybe it’s time I stop being a complete lunatic over an ex I’m never getting back with.

I had my store now. My dream. A fresh start in New York with endless possibilities.

Maybe it’s time to let go completely.

Before I could spiral into another round of self-doubt and overthinking—my Olympic sport at this point—I inhaled a steadying breath. Okay. No more stalling. I could do this. I just had to speak before my nerves dragged me back into the pit of indecision.

I set my mug down with more determination than grace and blurted out, “So, uh... do you have any plans after we leave here?”

Smooth. Real smooth. Absolutely seamless. A+ delivery.

Ethan raised a brow, amusement flickering across his face, though he politely hid it behind a sip of his coffee. “Nothing concrete,” he replied, leaning back in his chair with an easy smile that somehow made me more nervous. “I usually catch a game with some friends at a bar, but that’s flexible.”

Flexible.

That wasn’t just an answer—it was an opening. An invitation, subtle but clear. Was he... waiting for me to say something? No, that couldn’t be right. Could it? I mean, sure, I knew he was interested in me,that was pretty obvious and maybe it is time I push it further.

My pulse hammered so loud I was pretty sure he could hear it from across the table. My inner voice screamed at me to back out while I still could. But another, quieter voice whispered that maybe—just maybe—it was time to stop hiding behind my excuses.

I hadn’t dated in years and maybe... maybe it was time to try.

You’ve got this. Just say it. Four words.

“Do you want to...” No, wait, that’s three words. Whatever, just—

“Do you want to grab dinner?”

The words tumbled out so fast they practically collided with each other on the way out. My voice was an octave higher than normal, and I immediately wanted to crawl under the table and hide forever. My cheeks burned like I’d just sat too close to the sun, but it was too late to backtrack now.

This wasn’t the first time Ethan and I would share a meal. But it was the first time I’d asked him. And that made all the difference.

I held my breath, fully expecting him to laugh, tease me, or—worse—politely decline and send me spiraling into the void of humiliation.

But instead, his brows shot up in surprise, quickly followed by something softer—something almost... hopeful. For a moment, he just stared at me, and I wondered if he was calculating how gently he could let me down without shattering my fragile ego.

And then, like the slow dawn breaking over a quiet city, a grin spread across his face. Not his usual charming smirk, but something genuine, warm, and... pleased?

“I’d love to have dinner with you”