Chapter 27

They didn’t see Evan again.

Rowan noticed the absence like a held breath finally released, the way the parking lot stretched quiet and empty, the way the noise from the field faded into nothing but distant echoes and the hum of the lights overhead. The night pressed in around them, cool and still, smelling faintly of grass and sweat and something softer she couldn’t name.

Lila’s steps slowed as they walked. Her shoulders, which had been tense and lifted just moments ago, gradually lowered. She didn’t say anything, but Rowan felt it anyway, the shift. The unspoken relief. The quiet after something sharp.

Rowan, on the other hand, felt worse.

Her mind wouldn’t let it go. It kept replaying Lila’s expression when Evan had appeared, the flash of surprise, the way her mouth had tightened, the way she’d gone careful instead of reactive. Rowan knew that look. It was the look of someone swallowing questions because they didn’t know if they were allowed to ask them.

That alone made Rowan’s chest ache.

They reached the edge of the parking lot, where Lila’s car was parked beneath a flickering light. This was where Lila had waited for her before practice, leaning casually against the door like she belonged in Rowan’s world already. The symmetry of it hit her all at once, how Lila had been there before everything, and now again after something that threatened to unsettle them.

Rowan stopped walking.

“Hey,” she said.

Lila turned instantly, worry blooming across her face so quickly it almost hurt to see. “What’s wrong?”

That—that—was the thing. Lila always noticed. She didn’t brush past discomfort or pretend things were fine just to keep the peace. She cared in a way that was immediate and instinctive, and Rowan wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of that.

Rowan dragged in a breath and let it out slowly. “I need to talk,” she said. “Like… actually talk.”

Lila nodded without hesitation. “Okay.”

Rowan stared at the ground for a moment, the cracked pavement blurring beneath her cleats. She felt ridiculous, standing there replaying a moment that had already passed, but the weight of it sat heavy in her chest. If she didn’t say this now, it would fester. It always did.

“Back there,” Rowan said quietly, “with Evan… I know I went kind of quiet. And I hate that. Because I don’t think I said enough.”

Lila shook her head gently. “Rowan, you don’t owe me an explanation—”

“I want to give you one,” Rowan said, sharper than she meant to, then softened immediately. “Because I keep thinking about the way you looked. And I don’t ever want you walking away thinking there’s something you don’t know. Or something I’m hiding.”

Lila stayed quiet, attentive, her presence grounding instead of pressing. Rowan swallowed and forced herself to keep going.

“He wasn’t good to me,” she said.

The words felt blunt, insufficient, but they were the closest thing to the truth she had. “Not in loud, obvious ways. Not at first. It was small things. Comments. Silences. Making me feel like I was too intense, too emotional, too much effort.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “He made affection feel like something I had to earn. Like if I asked for reassurance, it meant I was needy. And if I stopped asking, it meant I didn’t care enough.”

Lila’s brows knit together, her jaw tightening. Rowan saw anger there but more than that, she saw hurt. The kind that came from imagining someone you care about being treated like that.

“I stayed,” Rowan admitted. “Way longer than I should have. Because I thought… maybe that’s just how it’s supposed to feel. Like love is something you survive instead of something that feels safe.”

Her voice dropped. “He told me I was hard to love.”

Lila inhaled sharply, the sound barely contained. “That’s not—”

“I know,” Rowan said quickly. “I know that now. But back then, I believed him. So, when he left, it felt like proof.”

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Lila stepped closer, just enough that Rowan could feel her warmth, her steady presence anchoring her in place.

“I’m telling you this,” Rowan said, lifting her gaze to meet Lila’s, “because when you saw him, I could tell you were wondering. And I hate the idea of you questioning where you stand with me. Or thinking you’re second to something I already let go of.”

She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing Lila’s wrist. It was a question more than a touch.

Lila answered it by turning her hand and threading their fingers together.

Rowan’s breath hitched.

“You’re not competing with him,” Rowan said, voice firm despite the tremor underneath. “You never were. He doesn’t get to take up space in my life anymore. You do.”

Lila searched her face, eyes shining. “Rowan…”

“I mean it,” Rowan said. “You’re not an almost. You’re not something I’m unsure about.”

The words rose up again, uninvited and terrifyingly clear.

I love you.

She felt them press against her throat, heavy and real and absolutely terrifying. Her heart started racing, panic and certainty colliding in her chest. She opened her mouth—

And stopped.

Lila’s eyes widened slightly, like she’d felt the shift, like she’d seen the word forming before it ever left Rowan’s lips.

Rowan’s pulse thundered in her ears.

“I—” She swallowed hard, grip tightening around Lila’s hand. “I like you,” she said quickly, voice breathless. “I like you a lot.”

The air between them stilled.

Lila tilted her head, studying her face with careful attention. “You almost said something else.”

Rowan let out a nervous laugh, cheeks flushing. “Did I?”

Lila nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think you did.”

Rowan didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. Instead, she looked down at their joined hands, tracing her thumb over Lila’s knuckles like a grounding exercise.

“I’m bad at big words,” Rowan admitted softly. “Especially when they feel like they could change everything.”

Lila stepped closer, close enough that Rowan could see every detail of her face, the softness around her eyes, the quiet patience there. “You don’t have to rush,” Lila said gently. “I just need honesty.”

Rowan met her gaze, steady and vulnerable all at once. “Then here’s the honest part: I choose you. Not halfway. Not cautiously. You’re enough. You’ve always been enough.”

Lila’s breath caught, a tear threatening at the corner of her eye. “You already make me feel chosen,” she whispered.

Rowan squeezed her hand. “Good. Because I never want to be the reason you doubt that.”

They stood there under the buzzing lights, the night wrapping around them like a held secret. The words Rowan hadn’t said lingered between them, not as pressure, but as promise.

And for the first time, that didn’t scare her.