Page 117 of The Book Club Boyfriend
My dad lingers a beat longer, like he’s not sure he’s earned the right to say anything else. But then he reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
“You deserved better,” he says. “And I’m going to try. Even now. If you’ll let me.”
Inod, throat tight. “Trying’s a good place to start.”
They head in opposite directions, but this time, it doesn’t feel like something’s breaking apart.
It feels like turning a page. Starting a new chapter.
And maybe that’s enough for now.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Pizza, Apologies, and Other Unexpected Things
Scarlett
He said to meet him on the rooftop.
Of course he did. He probably thought it sounded romantic. Poetic. Like something out of a slow-burn Netflix drama where the girl forgives the guy with a dramatic kiss and a fade to black.
Joke’s on him—I’m wearing sneakers and anxiety.
The rooftop is quiet when I push the door open. Windy. A little too cinematic, if I’m honest. String lights zigzag above a few lounge chairs, and the skyline stretches out in front of us like it knows we’re about to havea moment.
Chase is standing near the edge, hands in his pockets, staring out at the city like he’s been up here practicing what to say.
He turns when he hears me. Doesn’t smile. Just watches me walk toward him, as if he’s not sure I won’t decide to run.
Truthfully, I’m not either.
“Hey,” I say, because I’m great at grand entrances.
“Hey.”
We stand there for a beat. Two. I fold my arms to keep from fidgeting.
“Kind of dramatic, don’t you think?” I nod at the skyline. “What, no rooftop string quartet?”
He huffs out a laugh. It sounds like it hurts.
“Thought I’d keep it low-key.”
“Well, nothing says casual like emotional trauma and mood lighting.”
He nods, lips pressed together, eyes scanning mine as if he’s trying to read what I’m thinking.
“I didn’t know if I was going to come,” I say.
“I didn’t know if you would either.”
I blink. “Wow. Off to a strong start.”
He winces. “That’s not what I—look, I meant… I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t. But I’m glad you did.”
Silence stretches between us again. The wind tugs at my hair. It smells like the city up here, and maybe rain and something else I can’t name.
“I was humiliated,” I say finally. “Standing there,hearing them talk about me like I was some… experiment. A bet with a deadline.”
