Joanne scoffed, snapping herself out of her thoughts.
Even from the very start, he had made her feel ashad.
Of course, as she grew older, she knew it wasn’t his fault—not at first. She was the one who had looked down on herself.
But later...
Later, it had been his fault.
Later, he had made her feel small.
She’s pretty bland... He sneered. His sneering voice still echoed in her mind.
She was glad she hadn’t let his family strip her of her pride. Glad she had gotten out when she did.
He had run away, but even if he hadn’t, she would have ended things anyway.
So why...
Why did it hurt when she thought about the day she t him?
-
JD stared into the distance, his thoughts tangled like the branches of the oak trees standing tall behind them. They looked eerily similar to the ones in his dreams.
He had never been able to figure it out. Was his dream simply a reflection of sothing he had seen before? Or was it sothing else—sothing beyond logic?
He had never been able to bring himself to this side of the trees before. But now, he had co here.
For her.
A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips.
Love was... weird.
He turned his head slightly, watching Joanne. She was lost in thought, her brows drawn together, her lips slightly parted.
She had said she almost died here.
JD’s heart clenched at the thought. Then, an even stranger thought struck him. The girl in his dreams...
Could it have been... Joanne?
His breath caught in his throat, and he quickly looked away.
No. That can’t be true.
Because if that were true, then it would an he had been here before. It would an his grandfather had brought him here. It would an that Joanne—she—was the woman he was supposed to marry.
His stomach twisted.
He hated that woman he had been promised to. She ruined his life.
But he didn’t hate Joanne. He couldn’t hate Joanne.
Every part of him—every fiber of his being—loved her.
JD cleared his throat, trying to shake off the thoughts swirling in his mind. He didn’t want to sit here, dissecting feelings and mories that would only sour his mood. He glanced at Joanne, who was still lost in her own thoughts, her expression unreadable.
"Wanna play Nintendo?" he asked, his voice lighter than he felt.
Joanne blinked and turned to him. For a second, sothing flickered in her eyes—pain, hesitation, sothing fragile. But then, just as quickly, she forced a smile and jumped to her feet.
"Last one to the house is a loser!" she declared, already taking off.
JD groaned. "That’s cheating!" He shot up and ran after her, his long legs giving him an advantage, but she was fast—faster than he expected. The cool evening air rushed past them as they sprinted toward the house, their laughter mingling with the rustling trees.
Joanne was just about to reach the door when JD grabbed the back of her shirt, yanking her to a halt.
"This is cheating!" she yelped, twisting in his hold, trying to break free.
JD only grinned, using the montary distraction to push ahead and barrel through the front door.
"Loser!" he declared triumphantly, standing in the middle of the living room, his fingers forming an ’L’ on his forehead.
Joanne stomped inside after him, crossing her arms. "What a mature thing to do," she huffed.
"Spoken like a true loser," JD teased, his deep laugh filling the room.
Fluffy, completely oblivious to their battle, bounced around JD excitedly, barking and wagging his tail like he had just won sothing.
Joanne rolled her eyes, but the irritation was fleeting. The house felt warr, lighter, the tension from earlier lting away.
They settled onto the floor, controllers in hand, and lost themselves in the ga. Joanne was so caught up in the mont that she forgot about dinner entirely. When hunger finally pulled them away from the screen, they ordered pizza, barely pausing between matches.
For the first ti in what felt like forever, Joanne relaxed.
She stretched out on the rug, her back resting against the couch. JD sat beside her, legs crossed, mirroring her posture. It was oddly comforting—how they both preferred the floor over the couch, how their tastes aligned in little, unexpected ways.
It was annoying, too.
JD leaned back on his elbows and turned his gaze to her. "So... how’s it going with Jonathan?"
The question ca out casually, but Joanne stiffened. Her fingers twitched slightly over the buttons.
"It’s... going well," she said, but the brightness in her voice dimd.
JD noticed.
"It doesn’t look like it," he said, keeping his tone light but pointed. "You can end it before you regret it later."
Joanne exhaled, her shoulders sinking slightly. She didn’t et his eyes.
"It’s not easy to reject soone when you owe them," she murmured.
JD didn’t reply right away. He could sense the weight in her words, the internal battle she was fighting.
She was thinking about him—Jonathan, the man who had helped her when she needed it.
She had already turned down Liam. And after experiencing rejection herself... she knew how much it hurt. She didn’t want to do that to Jonathan. He was good—he deserved better than that.
JD wanted to tell her the truth—to tell her that staying in sothing just because you felt indebted wasn’t fair to either of them. But before he could speak, Joanne suddenly clapped her hands together, forcing a bright smile onto her face.
"One more ga!" she challenged. "Loser has to quit alcohol for a week!"
JD raised an eyebrow before smirking. "Deal."
He had no idea how much Joanne loved her alcohol until that mont.
She fought tooth and nail for that win.
"Yes!" Joanne snatched up a bottle of whiskey, cradling it like a long-lost lover before pressing a triumphant kiss to the glass. "Good night, loser," she teased, flashing him a mischievous grin before darting up the stairs.
JD stayed where he was, sprawled out on the floor, exhaling a deep breath. The laughter had faded, the warmth of the mont lingering, yet sothing heavier settled in his chest.
He stared at the ceiling, his mind a tangled ss of thoughts. With a quiet sigh, he finally pushed himself up and made his way to bed.
Sleep wouldn’t co easily tonight.
-----
The next morning, Joanne scrolled through her phone, searching for a decent photograph to use on the company website. Unsurprisingly, she found none. She barely took pictures of herself. With a sigh, she accepted the inevitable—she needed a new one.
She got ready, applying makeup with practiced ease, keeping it professional yet polished. Veronica had already booked an appointnt with the photographer, leaving Joanne with no excuse to put it off.
Rummaging through her drawer for her pearl earrings, her fingers brushed against an old photograph. She froze.
It was that picture.
Blonde hair, bright smile—her old self, the version she once clung to. The picture she had used for everything, back when she thought reinvention ant erasing who she used to be.
She exhaled sharply and tossed it onto the nightstand, shaking off the mories. Right now, she just needed to find that damn earring.
Just as she clasped it in place, the doorbell rang. Without even glancing at her phone to see who it was, she rushed downstairs, fastening the last earring as she reached the door.
She swung it open.
And regretted it instantly.
Fiona Sullivan.
Liam Sullivan’s wife.
Her ex-boyfriend’s wife.
Joanne’s breath hitched, her stomach twisting into a knot.
What the hell is she doing here?
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