Page 82 of The Summer We Played Pretend

“How can I? It led us here. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened if things had gone differently.”

I ease out a breath. She’s right, of course. Chloe’s always right.

“True.”

I pull up outside her house and her mom is already waiting for us at the door. The smell of homecooked food makes my stomach grumble as soon as I open the door.

I hear the pots and pans clanging together through the open kitchen window as her mom warmly embraces me. Even when Chloe isn't home, her mom still brings over dinners for my dad and me. But being here with all of us together feels different, like we're a real family of some kind. Ethan comes down the stairs and greets me with a fist bump.

As we sit side by side at the dining table, Chloe's hand finds mine under the table, her fingers intertwining with mine. I steal glances at her throughout the meal and struggle to remind myself that this is real.

She’s mine.

That evening, we’re back at the fairgrounds, the smell of popcorn and fried dough thick in the air. The Ferris wheel lights up the sky as the sun dips below the horizon, streaks of pink and orange painting the clouds.

“No storms this year,” I tell Chloe. “I checked the weather.”

“Thank God. One was enough.”

We end up on the Ferris wheel, her hand in mine as we climb higher, the fair growing smaller beneath us. When we reach the top, the wheel slows, and Chloe leans her head on my shoulder, a content sigh escaping her lips.

“This is the best summer yet,” she says quietly.

“It’s only just started, Chlo.”

She lifts her head, and I see it in her eyes—the same look that’s been there since the day she told me she loved me, the look that says she’s all in.

“Well it’s true,” she murmurs, leaning closer. “Because we made it.”

I kiss her then, slow and steady, her lips warm, tasting of cotton candy. It’s not passionate or desperate but it’s a reminder of us—of the strength of our relationship.

“Next summer’s going to be even better,” I promise.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she replies.

As the Ferris wheel carries us back down, I know she means it. And so do I.

Because this—us—isn’t pretend or a rebound fling. It’s the real thing, built on late nights, hard conversations, and a lot of love. And whatever the future throws at us, I know one thing for sure—we’ll face it together.

And that’s enough. It’s more than enough.

THE END

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