Page 10

"Love you too."

The call goes dead as I look back through the glass.

Fifth floor view—not bad. High enough to feel like I have my own space but low enough to still feel part of the city. Golden City to be exact—the one place besides my hometown I never thought I'd go. Not in the last few years at least. Not since a certain Mage Hollow High legend joined the Gators' roster.

When Kent told me he landed me a job in a city I'd be stoked for—his words, not mine—I assumed he finally found placement in the one spot I've always wanted to go to. Not in the biggest city closest to my tiny hometown needing a fill-in nurse.

When I left Mage for good after community college to do my stint at Ashford Hospital, I decided that besides visiting here and there, the best way to see Mage again was in the rearview mirror. I had finally gotten a taste of distance—from the smothering small-town gossip. From my loving and nurturing, yet overwhelming, meddling mother.

From him.

It was exactly what I needed to finally move on. Not that he was there anymore either, not physically at least. But he was still… everywhere.

Every street, every store, every bench—it all once belonged to two young kids in love. Even my house was tainted. The couch, the front porch. My bedroom.

None of it was mine anymore.

It was ours in a world where we didn't exist.

And then there was the park—my beautiful, peaceful, safe space of a running trail that was now nothing but blacktop stamped with footprints and memories of a life I lost.

One I so desperately wanted back.

It's been a long time since I felt that way—stuck in the past or the what-could-have-beens. But being here in this city… his city—where his name is on the back of every jersey downtown and the spring months belong to him and his team—it's hard not to feel it again.

Hard not to open that box I buried deep inside my mind and heart where Jace Holloway still lives.

Blinking away the past, my eyes drift back to the park in front of me. It's different from the one in Mage and the one in Ashford. Different from the one near my last placement too, and every city before that. But that's the thing I love about them. They're all unique, but there's one in every town. They're friendly and familiar—neutral ground where no one knows if you're a longtime resident or the new girl just passing through.

The guy walking his dog could live next door or simply be stopping for a pee break on his way across the country. The kids on the jungle gym could be students from the school down the street or out-of-town cousins visiting for the week.

And the runner? That girl with her earbuds in and her brain finally quiet? She could have lived here her whole life.

Or she could be a travel nurse filling in for someone on maternity leave, already preparing to move on again in less than two months' time.

With a sigh, I move to turn away, but the sound of laughter pulls me back toward the window. I look down and spot a group of teenagers walking away from my building, chuckling and shoving each other playfully, one of them in a Gators hat.

Perfect.

I follow them as they continue toward the apartments I'm just now realizing sit on the other side of the park. They're nicer than mine—much nicer. Their luxury steel and floor-to-ceiling windows put the red brick of mine to shame.

I watch until they disappear inside, my eyes trailing back along the path toward my building before I finally turn toward my duffle. I laugh at the irony when I see my workout clothes and sneakers sitting strategically on top.

"Guess we're running," I say aloud, which sounds much better—and more necessary—than unpacking my bags.

I grab a pair of black running shorts and the first top I see, which happens to be my favorite cropped tank. I change quickly, tossing my jeans and t-shirt into the corner of the room before pulling the top half of my collarbone length hair into a short ponytail. I keep my same socks, stepping into my Hokas before heading back into the living room. I notice now for the first time that the hallway smells faintly of wet paint and bleach. The perfect combination of a new beginning and temporariness.

Grabbing a hoodie from my pile by the door, I tie it around my waist and head for the stairs. One by one, I take each step, thinking back on my phone call with my siblings.

I knew working thirty minutes from Mage would mean going back. And after all this time, maybe being there more often won't feel so… suffocating.

Then, I think of how my stomach sank when Bridget even hinted at Jace. It was the same feeling I had when Kent told me he sealed my fate in Golden City. The same one I have if I let myself think for too long about how my high school sweetheart could be miles—or feet—away from me at any point from here on out.

And my next thought is simple.

This was a huge mistake.

But when I push through the building's back doors and step onto the path, that late-afternoon air hitting my skin, something inside me settles anyway.