I'd been driving around New Hope for what felt like forever. Thirty.maybe forty minutes? Maybe even longer? Circling the same streets,retracing the same turns, pulling into the same parking lots like the answer might suddenly appear if I looked twice.

Bars, clubs, diners. I even checked the cinema, scanning the dark corners of the lobby like some kind of stalker. Still nothing.

Dean was gone.

And even though he'd been nothing but an asshole to me lately,I couldn't stop the coil of worry strangling my stomach. He was hurting,that much I knew. And no matter how badly I wanted to wash my hands of him, I couldn't forget the way his world used to revolve around Chloe.How much he loved her. Still loves her.

And she had thrown that love away.

I turned down another street, sunlight bouncing off the hood of my yellow car like a spotlight. Blinding. I winced and pulled to a stop in front of a flower shop, dragging in a breath as if oxygen could clear the frustration clawing at my chest.

Maybe I was stupid for chasing him. Maybe I should've let him disappear, let Chloe deal with the fallout of her own betrayal. But the image of Dean's face last night, broken, shocked, gutted, just kept burning through me.

If Chloe hadn't spread her legs for every shadow that moved, Dean wouldn't be out here in pieces. We wouldn't be in this mess.

I'd probably be at home right now with Roman. Under him or on top of him.Whichever position he wanted me in.

Now Dean was missing, his parents hadn't seen him since last night.and the wedding was less than twenty-four hours away. And apparently,it was my problem to fix.

I shoved the car door open and stepped inside the flower shop. The bell above the door tinkled, delicate, cheerful-like it was mocking me. My eyes darted around the shop, scanning faces, shoulders sagging pathetically when I found nothing. Just a couple gushing over a bouquet of roses so big it could drown a grown person.

I slipped back outside and dropped onto the bench in front of the shop, the wood hot under my thighs. I pressed my palms into my knees and squinted against the assault of sunlight bouncing off my beautiful.bright car.

Shit.That hurt.

Where the hell was he?

The thought of Chloe's smug face flared in my mind,souring my mouth. This was her fault. All of it. And if I didn't somehow conjure Dean out of thin air, tomorrow was going to implode.

The sharp pop of confetti startled me out of my depressing thoughts.I jerked my head toward the flower shop window just in time to see a man drop to one knee.

A black velvet box opened in front of a trembling girl with a hand over her mouth.

My lips twitched into a smile despite myself. She nodded then ho

slowly slipped the ring on her finger, and they kissed.

I turned away, suddenly feeling like a voyeur, like some pathetic outsider grinning at other peope's happiness when mine was in tatters.With a sigh, I stood, brushing invisible dust from my thighs. Time to go home. Time to accept I'd failed.

The wedding was off.

And I can't deny that a mischievous part of me was happy that Chloe was going to be miserable and humiliated tomorrow.

The groom had bailed, and nothing I did was going to change that.

I cast one last look at the happy couple inside, then collided straight into someone's chest when I put one foot in front of the other.

"Oh shit! I'm so sorry!" the man blurted out.

"No, no, it's fine," I mumbled, stepping back.

He was young, maybe mid-twenties, hair a litle too long,eyes still lit from the proposal he'd just witnessed.

"Are you Micah or Seline's friend?" he asked, jerking his chin toward the shop.

My tongue momentarily stopped working. He must've caught me watching like a creep.

"Uh... yes. Friend of the couple," I croaked, my lie pitiful.

But he didn't seem to notice. He grinned. "Oh, a mutual friend then."

I nodded quickly, hoping he'd drop it.

"Crazy romantic, huh? Micah's been planning this forever.He almost did it at their spot by the lake, but I talked him into the flower shop idea.Told him it'd be sweeter, less cliché." He chuckled, clearly proud of himself.

But my brain didn't hear the rest.

Their spot by the lake.

The words punched me straight in the chest.

Why hadn't I thought of that?

"Shit, I gotta go," I blurted, sidestepping him.

"Hey,wait up! I don't even know your name!" he called after me.

I held up my hand, flashing my engagement ring like a shield."I'm engaged!" I shouted, diving into my car before he could process my nonsense.

I peeled out of the lot, praying with every desperate beat of my heart that Dean would be there. That this was the last place I had to search.

The drive to the lake felt endless, though I knew the roads by heart.Nostalgia hit like waves crashing. How many times had we driven this route back when things were simpler? When love was enough? When we were in love?

I parked at the edge of the woods and killedthe engine. The silence that followed was deafening. My feet crunched over the familiar trail, the air thick with damp earth and pine. Every turn,every bend, my body remembered without thought.

And then, through the trees, I saw him.

Dean.

I released a deep breath. Thank Goodness.

Still in his tux from last night, dirt smudging the knees, tie hanging loose like it had given up. He sat hunched on the ground by the lake,arms looped tight around his knees, eyes hollow and fixed on the water.His phone buzzed uselessly on the ground beside him, the screen flashing Chloe's name over and over.

But he didn't move to pick it up. Didn't even blink at it. But I knew he heard it. He just didn't want her voice in his ear.

I swallowed hard and walked toward him, every step heavy, deliberate.I lowered myself onto the grass beside him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, far enough not to touch.

He didn't look at me.

"You found me," he said finally, voice rough,eyes still locked on the lake.

My gaze drifted upward, catching sight of the treehouse half-hidden in the branches. Our treehouse. Built with stolen nails and too much youthful stubbornness. For a second, I almost smiled. Almost.

"Yes," I whispered, the word tight. "Took me longer than I'd like, but I figured it out."

Silence stretched, filled only by the gentle lap of water against the shore.

"I loved her," he said suddenly, his voice breaking in the middle."God,I still fucking love her."

The words sliced through me. My chest constricted until breathing hurt.

"I was ready to do anything for her," he went on. "I did anything she wanted. I treated you like shit because of her, Sav. Because I wanted to please her. To make her happoy."

He turned to me then, eyes raw, rimmed red.

It felt like someone had driven a nail straight through my ribs when those words left his mouth.

I tore my gaze away, staring hard at the rippling water.

"You're her sister," he whispered. "You knew, didn't you? About the cheating?"

My throat tightened. "No. I didn't know. Not until last night."

He frowned, turning back to the lake. "I couldn't tell her," he muttered."Couldn't look her in the eye and force the words out."

I drew in a slow breath. "She loves you, Dean. You should've told her the truth-"

He cut me off with a dry, humorless laugh. "You think Chloe would've stayed with me after that?" His voice cracked, eyes glassy. "After knowing what I am?"

"Yes." I lied. My sister wouldn't stay.

He broke into a short laughter. "Don't lie to me, Sav."

"AmI?"

His eyes slid toward mine, tired and bloodshot, and the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You weren't shocked. You never were."

"Why would I be?" I murmured. "It's not your fault. It was never your fault."

He gave a humorless laugh and turned back to the lake. "Maybe. But it doesn't change anything, does it? Chloe would never stay if she knew.You and I, we live with it. She doesn't. And if she did..." He trailed off.shoulders sagging. "She'd run."

"Dean..."

"You and Chloe might be sisters but you're both very different, Sav."He went further. "You think Chloe is going to stay with me after finding out that I carry the Huntington's gene? That I'm sick? That there's a fifty percent chance that I'll pass on that death sentence to any child that we might decide to have?"