A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 72: CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

KYLE

Something was wrong.

I could feel it in my bones, in the way my chest tightened with each unanswered call. The dull hum of dread coiled in my gut as I stared at my phone screen. Voicemail. Again.

Ashley hadn’t shown up.

I checked my watch again, my foot tapping against the polished marble floor of the private dining room I had reserved.

I had planned everything —every little detail, every small touch designed just for her. A surprise dinner to celebrate her store opening, a night meant to show her how proud I was, how much I saw her.

But she wasn’t here.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair as I redialed her number.

Come on, Freckles. Pick up.

But it went straight to voicemail, just like the last three times.

The unease burrowed deeper.

Ashley wasn’t the type to ghost me. Not anymore. Our relationship had been going perfectly—better than I ever thought possible after everything we’d been through. She had been letting me in again, trusting me. If something was wrong, I would’ve known.

Was she okay?

Had something happen?

Or…

A new thought sliced through me.

Is she mad that I didn’t come to the opening?

I wanted to be there. Fuck, I had planned to be there. But I needed her to believe I wasn’t coming. It was part of the surprise. The absence, the build-up, the moment she’d walk in and see all of this—

I let out a slow breath, scanning the scene around me.

The restaurant had been transformed for the night. Soft candlelight flickered across the tables, casting a golden glow over the deep red rose petals scattered across the white linen tablecloths. A small string quartet played in the corner, their melodies weaving through the air, gentle and intimate. A reserved table for two sat by the window, overlooking the city skyline—where I imagined Ashley sitting, her face lighting up as she realized what I had done.

Only, the chair opposite mine remained empty.

A deep frown creased my brow.

This wasn’t right. If she were upset, she’d at least text me back. If she really didn’t want to come, she would’ve told me outright.

So where the hell was she?

I shoved my phone into my pocket and pushed back my chair, my mind already made up. If she wasn’t answering, I was going to her place.

I couldn’t afford Ashley being mad at me.

Couldn’t afford anything going wrong between us.

As I turned for the exit, a waitress called out behind me.

"Sir! Your dinner is—"

But I was already halfway to the door.

Ashley comes first. Always.

****

The sky had opened up by the time I pulled onto Ashley’s street, rain hammering against my windshield in thick, relentless sheets. Streetlights cast hazy glows against the slick pavement, their reflections stretching in long, distorted lines.

I killed the engine, gripping the steering wheel for a second longer than necessary.

Something still felt wrong.

I didn’t know if it was the fact that she had ignored all my calls or the gnawing sensation in my gut that told me—screamed at me—that something had happened.

I stepped out of the car, barely noticing the rain as it soaked through my clothes, cold and heavy. My boots splashed against the pavement as I moved, my strides long, hurried. I rushed to her building, reaching her door, ready to knock—

But it was open.

Ashley never left her door open.

A cold wave of dread crawled up my spine.

I hesitated for half a second before pushing it open wider, stepping inside. The living room was dim, the faint glow of the city filtering through the curtains, casting long, twisted shadows across the floor.

“Ashley?” My voice cut through the silence, sharp, urgent.

Nothing.

My heart thudded painfully as I scanned the space. The couch was a mess—her phone face-down on the cushions, a half-empty glass of water forgotten on the coffee table. The air was still, eerily so, like something had snapped inside this room and left only the aftermath.

I turned toward the hallway, checking the kitchen, the bathroom, her bedroom—nothing.

She was gone.

A soft mew shot through the silence, and I turned, spotting a small shape perched near the couch. Mochi.

The cat stared up at me, tail twitching, eyes wide like he, too, knew something wasn’t right.

"Where the hell is Ashley?" I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my rain-damp hair.

The cat blinked. Right. Because a damn cat was going to answer me.

I cursed under my breath and turned on my heel, my pulse hammering as I rushed outside. The rain hit me like ice, soaking through my already-drenched shirt, dripping into my eyes. But I didn’t care.

Where the hell could she have gone?

I scanned the empty street, my mind racing. It was late. It was storming. And Ashley—Ashley, who hated storms, who always curled up under a blanket at the first sign of thunder—was out there. Alone.

Think, Kyle. Think.

She wouldn’t have gone far. Not like this.

My jaw clenched as I turned down the street, my pace quick and desperate, my pulse a violent drum against my ribs.

And then, through the haze of rain and streetlights, I saw her.

A lone figure, barely visible under the dim glow of a streetlamp, sitting on the curb with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

My chest tightened.

Her red hair was plastered to her skin, her clothes drenched, her shoulders trembling from the cold. She looked small. Lost.

I didn’t hesitate.

I ran.

"Ashley!" I called as I neared, my voice barely carrying over the rain.

She didn’t react.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even look up.

Rain slid down her face, mingling with something else—something that made my stomach twist. Tears.

My fingers curled into fists.

“Ash,” I tried again, softer this time.

Nothing.

It was like she was locked inside herself, unreachable, drowning in something I couldn’t see.

Panic gripped me as I crouched in front of her, reaching out, my fingers just barely brushing her shoulder.

"Ash, what the hell—"

"Don't."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through me like a knife.

I froze.

Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes locking onto mine. Red-rimmed. Swollen. Haunted.

Something inside me lurched.

I had seen Ashley upset before. I had seen her angry, had seen her cry, had seen her hurt.

But this?

This was something else entirely