Rue woke to the sound of waves crashing gently against the shore. The window was cracked open, letting in the cool morning air. The curtains had been neatly drawn—just enough to let in a sliver of sunrise.
She blinked, disoriented, her body heavy with sleep. Where was she again?
Beach. Charlotte. Proposal. Elijah
Her heart skipped slightly. Where was Elijah?
She sat up straighter, brushing hair from her face. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had dreamed it all—his presence, the awkward silence, the door between them.
But no. As her surroundings came into focus, she realized—she hadn't imagined a thing.
On the far side of the bed, next to a folded blanket, was a note in Elijah's handwriting.
It read simply:
Cafeteria. Breakfast.
She let out a sigh.
Turning to the nightstand, she grabbed her phone. The lock screen read 7:30. Later than usual, but considering how late she'd gone to bed—and everything that had happened—she was impressed she'd slept at all.
Two new messages blinked on her screen, both from Charlotte.
You were calling last night? You miss me already?
Followed by:
Come by the cafeteria for breakfast at 8:00. I need you to spill me some tea!
After a quick freshening up, Rue started to get ready. She chose an off-shoulder cream crop top paired with a peach floral maxi skirt. It had been sitting in her closet for ages, waiting for the right moment—and just being able to wear it now made her smile.
She thought about putting on a bit of makeup. Lately, she'd become hyper-aware of how she looked—especially with Elijah around. He looked exceptionally handsome now. Refined, grown. Clearly, he had taken good care of himself over the years.
She couldn't help but compare.
Rue had maintained a decent weight, sure—but her complexion needed a bit of sun, and the dark circles under her eyes were more stubborn than ever. Evidence of all the late nights she'd buried herself in books and editing work, trying to outrun grief and expectation.
Her reflection stared back at her in the mirror.
Ever since her mother passed, even with the security of a trust fund, Rue had chosen to rely on herself. She rarely spoke to her father anymore. It was survival. The only way she knew how to keep moving.
With a shrug, Rue dabbed concealer under her eyes, applied sunscreen to her face and arms, and finished with a swipe of tinted lip gloss. She studied her reflection for a moment and gave a half-smile.
It is what it is.
The resort had a quiet, tropical charm—nothing flashy, just simple beauty done right. Concrete and wood structures blended into nature, window panes positioned to let light and breeze in. Even the pathways were aesthetic. Every corner looked like it belonged in someone's curated travel vlog.
By the time Rue reached the cafeteria, the place was already buzzing. The scent of warm bread, bacon, and eggs hit her like a wave. Her body instantly craved coffee.
It was just a few minutes past eight.
She scanned the crowd, looking for Charlotte or Jason. No luck.
Rue reached for her phone, thumb hovering over Charlotte's name—
but before she could press call—
"Ruru! You made it, bibi!"
Charlotte appeared out of nowhere, linking arms with her like a clingy koala. She looked suspiciously well-rested and far too thrilled for this early in the morning.
Rue barely had time to react before Charlotte was grinning up at her with gleaming eyes.
"So tell me, girl—how was it last night? You two were a little too quiet."
Rue's eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean… you guys were next door all along?"
She slapped Charlotte's hand away and grabbed her by the shoulder, shaking her hard—but the gesture lost all bite. Charlotte just grinned, riding the vigorous shaking like a surfer catching a wave. Like a pro.
"I was trying to reach you the whole time!"
"Sorry, girl," Charlotte said, flipping her hair dramatically. "One of my acrylics broke. I was so upset I had to take a digital break."
"You're making that up, you absolute cow."
Charlotte laughed and held up her right arm, revealing one finger conspicuously missing its glittery acrylic.
"Excuse me, Your Honor?" she said, striking a mock-defensive pose.
They both burst into laughter.
But then it hit Rue—the proposal. The ring. The finger. If Charlotte knew Jason was going to propose, there's no way she'd let her nails go unpolished. She'd want every finger, especially that one, picture-perfect.
This was the perfect moment to test her.
She considered casually suggesting they go get their nails done—but that wouldn't reveal anything. If Charlotte was already eager to fix them, she'd jump at the idea. If not, it might just plant a seed.
So instead, Rue watched. Waited. Charlotte was chirpy, animated, and chatting like it was any other day.
Too calm.
She was good but Rue was patient. She just had to lay out a few of her own tricks—and wait to see what cracked first.
"By the way, you look stunning, bibi," Charlotte said, giving Rue a once-over. "Though you could use a little blush."
"Wait, what—"
But it was too late. Charlotte yanked her toward the corner of the cafeteria like she was evading paparazzi. Rue barely had time to flinch before a dab of cold liquid hit her cheek.
"Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo," Charlotte said with a flourish. "There you go, Cinderella. Now let's go get your prince."
If keeping Charlotte distracted meant sacrificing herself, then Rue was the lamb on the altar.
Charlotte led her to a small glossy mahogany table near an open window, overlooking the shoreline. It seated four, but only the two of them were there.
Charlotte was already busy taking selfies while Rue rested her chin on her hand, eyes drifting out to the sea. The weather was perfect. The crashing waves tickled her ears, and she could almost feel the fine white sand beneath her feet. She made a mental note to wake up early for the sunrise tomorrow.
"Smile," Charlotte whispered, suddenly appearing beside her with her phone stretched out in front of them.
Rue instinctively smiled. Click.
"By the way," Rue said as she settled on her seat, "where are the boys?"
"Oh, I sent them to the queue," Charlotte replied with the ease of royalty placing an order. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, radiating the energy of a woman who expected to be served. "Elijah was more than happy to get your breakfast, by the way. You should've seen his face when I started listing your favorites. I've never seen a man take notes so seriously about how a girl likes her waffles."
"You know, I still have not forgiven you about last night you know that?" Rue folded her arms across her chest. "You and I, we're bunking tonight. I'm not spending another night with him."
Charlotte gasped with a bit of exaggeration. "Did he disappoint? No way, I think he's gay."
Rue had to blink twice, trying to process Charlotte's whiplash comments. "No—what are you even thinking? We're basically strangers now. We barely said anything to each other."
"I don't believe a word of that crap, missy." Charlotte clasped her hands together like she was about to spill hot tea. "Before all this, Jason told me EJ used to talk about some 'girl who got away' back in high school."
"That's so vague, come on," Rue scoffed, waving it off. "He transferred mid-semester, senior year. For all we know, it could've been any girl."
Charlotte leaned in, eyes gleaming. "I'm telling you, I feel it. The tension between you two is unmistakable. He's going to crack—he just needs a little push. And honestly? I've had enough of your healing era. Flirt. A little. For all of us."
"Oh, shush, madam," Rue said, half-laughing, half-defensive. Her face warmed—part annoyed, part guilty. She cast her eyes toward the breakfast queue, desperate for a distraction. She also needed to talk to Jason without Charlotte suspecting anything.
"Why don't you stay here and guard the table?" she said, standing abruptly. "I'll go help the boys."
Charlotte gave her a dramatic, protesting look, but didn't stop her. As Rue walked away, Charlotte cupped her hands around her mouth and mouthed, "For. All. Of. Us."
Rue sighed, trying to refocus. Finally out of Charlotte's sight, she straightened her shoulders.
"She never thought the day would come when she'd betray her best friend—but here she was, determined to scheme the schemer."