Page 68 of Only Be Mine

He took a slow sip of his drink before looking back at me.

“How many chances do people really get?” he asked quietly.

I frowned. “What?”

“To love someone,” he said. “To really know if it could be something.”

My stomach tightened. “Excuse me?”

He shook his head like I was missing the point. “I just mean… you’ve been with John for a year. That’s not that long. And you and I…” He hesitated. “I’ve been waiting.”

I stood abruptly, fingers already fumbling with my coat. “Trevor, no.”

His expression flickered, hurt first, then something sharper beneath it. “You’re making a mistake.”

“I care about you,” I said carefully. “But not like that. I’m with John. I’m marrying John. That isn’t changing.”

I turned toward the door.

“Cate… wait,” he said quickly, rising. “At least let me drive you back.”

I paused, snow swirling beyond the glass.

“I’ll manage,” I said.

And for the first time, I realized how badly I wanted to leave.

Chapter 24

Cate

Present

“You never told me about that,” Amy said, her voice quieter now. Not accusing, just… stunned.

I shook my head as a woman walked past carrying a bouquet wrapped in brown paper. “I never saw the point,” I said. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. It would’ve just made things messier.”

Amy studied me for a moment, then nodded. “You were probably right.”

She clapped her hands together lightly, like she was closing a file. “Come on. Let’s get this done.”

The salon smelled like citrus shampoo and hot tools. Warm, bright, and safe. The kind of place where people confessed things without meaning to, because mirrors made honesty harder to dodge.

Amy had called ahead and convinced them to move our appointments up.

I settled into the chair as the stylist draped a cape around my shoulders, the fabric snapping softly against my collarbone. Amy took the chair beside me, already scrolling through her phone, excitement returning like it always did when there was something to do.

As the stylist worked her fingers through my hair, lifting and separating, I closed my eyes.

Talking about John had helped. More than I wanted to admit.

It didn’t fix anything, but it loosened something inside me. Reminded me that what we had was real. That I hadn’t imagined it. Wherever he was… he had loved me once.

That had to be enough.

Trevor loved me now.

The stylist guided me back toward the sink, warm water flooding my scalp, her hands methodical and confident. I let myself relax into it, the way you do when someone else takes over and you don’t have to decide anything.