His gaze softens, vulnerability bleeding through. "It's a big opportunity. I never considered it before because I thought Nate would be the first choice… but Dad thinks I'm better suited to one day take over the family business."

The weight of Nate's secrets presses against my chest, but I swallow them back. Instead, I reach behind me, pulling out my peace offering.

"I have something for you." I present the small scrapbook, our memories bound in paper and ink. "Happy birthday."

His fingers trace the pages reverently, a genuine smile breaking through like sunrise.

"This is amazing," he murmurs, voice warm with appreciation.

I rest my head against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him. "We'll always have these memories."

He leans into me, and for a moment, we're kids again, safe in our rooftop sanctuary, where the world can't touch us.

Mom's voice drifts up, breaking the spell. Jake chuckles softly, his arm brushing mine as we stand.

"Guess we'd better head down," he says, smiling gently.

"Yeah," I reply, but part of me stays behind, tangled in the space between who we were and who we're becoming.

39. Parallel Lines

CHAPTER 39

PARALLEL LINES

NATE

The engine's rumble fades into the night as Nick's car disappears, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the familiar ache of fresh bruises. The walk to the front door feels endless, each step a reminder of tonight's shitshow. Farrah might be out of the picture now, but that victory tastes hollow, mixing with the copper tang of blood in my mouth and the growing dread in my gut.

The house stands silent at 1 AM, as I drag myself up the stairs, biting back groans with each step, until a soft glow catches my eye. It's coming from Nora's room. The light spills into the hallway like a beacon, and something inside me shifts, yearns. The memory of her comfort from the last night pulls at me with gravitational force, but I resist. She doesn't need to see me like this—another reminder of how I'm the black hole in her orbit, threatening to pull her into the darkness.

Just as I turn away, the bathroom door opens. Nora steps out wearing those damned pajama shorts that make my throat go dry, her legs endless in the dim light. My body responds instantly, a pavlovian reaction I can't control. Our eyes lock, and the concern that floods her expression hits harder than any punch I took tonight.

"Nate, what happened?" Her voice wraps around me like silk, soft and strong all at once.

She moves closer, and I'm frozen in place as her fingers trace the tender skin around my eye. The gentleness of her touch burns more than the bruise itself. When her hand finds mine, the air between us grows thick with unspoken words. Her thumb grazes my split knuckles, and suddenly breathing becomes a conscious effort.

"A little altercation but I'm okay." The lie tastes bitter.