Chapter 8 The big move

He was seated at the corner, sipping something amber in a glass, completely at ease, like he hadn't just shattered Kate's ability to form words. Kate's grip on my wrist tightened and then loosened as if she remembered where she was.

The man in question rose from his seat, drink still in hand, and walked straight toward us, wearing that same lazy smirk from last night-the kind of smile that knew its power.

"You've got to be kidding me," Kate muttered under her breath.

"Friend of yours?" I asked, voice low, teasing.

"I don't even know his name," she hissed.

I turned back to him, eyebrows raised, already entertained. "So who might you be?" He chuckled. "Just a man who means no harm, beautiful ladies."

Kate's shoulders tensed, but she didn't look down. "This isn't awkward at all."

"You didn't leave me a name," he said, eyes locked on her. "I figured fate might give me another shot, and here we are."

"Do you make a habit of showing up where your hookups eat dinner?" I asked, crossing my arms. He looks oddly familiar, but I can't place my finger on it.

"Only when they steal my jacket and don't leave me with a name." He looked pointedly at the oversized leather jacket draped over Kate's chair.

Kate blinked. "Oh. I was just going to leave it at the bar," she muttered. He smiled. "Now you don't have to."

I glanced between them, trying not to laugh. "You two want a minute?"

Kate shot me a look. "No, we do not." She tried to give him back the jacket slowly, and her fingers lingered a little too long. He didn't take it.

"How about you leave me with a name and number this time and keep the jacket?" he said.

They exchanged names this time. Lucas. Of course, he looked like a Lucas.

He offered his number with a casual, "Text me if you want to return any other stolen property," and then he was gone, just as smoothly as he came, leaving Kate pink in the cheeks and pretending she wasn't flustered.

I waited until he was out of earshot before grinning. "You've got it bad."

"Shut up."

"You didn't even argue when he asked for your digits and gave you his."

"I didn't want to be rude."

I laughed. "That's the story you're sticking with?"

"Do you want to sleep on the floor tonight?" Kate asked,

"Whoa, slow down tiger. Threatening to smash windows and now sleeping on the floor? If I didn't know you any better, I would mistake you for Hitler."

"Sleepover at mines when we get home?" She suggested. I perked up. "Finally, some fun." "I didn't say you were invited."

"I'm coming over anyways," I said. "But I need to go freshen up first." Kate rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But you remember the rules."

"Remind me."

"One, wine is mandatory. Two-no talking about sad stuff like moving. And three-only the worst movies are allowed."

I raised my hand like a scout. "Swear on my life." And then we were off, out of the restaurant and on our way home.

My apartment looked like an abandoned warehouse-boxes half-packed, drawers pulled open, an awkward pile of clothes I'd sworn I'd fold but absolutely forgot to. Well, there's nothing I can do now.

I showered, changed into leggings and an old hoodie, and threw a couple of snacks and a bottle of wine into my tote bag, making my way to Kate's apartment.

I knocked on her door; I could hear the opening music of some over-the-top rom-com already playing. She opened the door in pyjamas that didn't match and with her hair piled in a messy bun.

"You're late," she said, grabbing the wine. "I started without you."

"Why am I not surprised?" I bit back.

I kicked off my shoes and followed her into the living room, where a nest of pillows and blankets covered the floor. Popcorn, candy, takeout containers-the essentials. I dropped into the pile with a sigh.

"This is exactly what I needed."

"You say that now," Kate said, handing me a glass. "Wait until the emotional trauma of this movie kicks in."

"I thought the rule was bad movies?"

"This is bad. But it tries so hard to be good it loops back around into emotional damage."

I laughed, and she settled in beside me, passing me a glass of wine and pouring some for herself. "I could get used to this; the weekends are my favourite," the warmth of the wine already making my muscles relax.

For a few blissful hours, we didn't talk about moving, work, men, creepy boxes, or anything remotely stressful. We just watched two actors with too-perfect teeth make terrible decisions in the name of love.

At some point, I lay back on the blanket pile, my head resting against Kate's shoulder. "I'm going to miss this," I murmured.

"I know," she said quietly.

There was a beat of silence, the kind that stretched out when two people didn't know what to say next.

"I mean, we'll still talk. Video calls. Memes. Wine-fuelled rant sessions."

I nodded then held her hand. "But it won't be this. What am I going to do without you?

She didn't answer, and she didn't have to. We would find out.

Tomorrow came faster than anticipated; my alarm blared at 6:15, cutting through the quiet like a drill. I groaned and rolled over to grab my phone, squinting at the screen.

Kate was already awake, sitting cross-legged on the floor, sipping coffee and scrolling on her phone.

"Someone's up early," I mumbled.

She shrugged. "Didn't sleep much."

I sat up, hair a mess, mouth dry, heart a little heavier than I'd expected it to feel. "Drop me at the airport?"

Kate nodded. "Get dressed. I'll drive".

The ride was filled with music that neither of us really listened to. We didn't say much-not because there was nothing to say, but because saying it would make it all feel too real.

"You know everything will be fine, right?" I said.

She nodded. "You'll text me?"

"Obviously. And don't forget to water my Daisy plant."

Kate rolled her eyes. "One time, I forget, and suddenly I'm a plant murderer."

I smiled and reached for the door, but she caught my hand.

"Wait." I turned to her.

"Just... don't change too much over there, okay? Don't come back all mysterious and distant with a Southern View accent."

"I don't think that's a thing." I laughed out

"Still. Don't."

"I won't. Promise."

We hugged, tight and too short, and after I was dragging my suitcase through the automatic doors, my heart beating loud in my chest.

By the time I boarded, I'd checked my messages-nothing major. No calls. No drama. Just one text from Kate.

"Already miss you. Be safe, Nessa."

I smiled, buckled in, and stared out the window as the plane took off.

My life had changed overnight. And I had no idea what was coming next.

But as I watched the clouds roll past, one thing kept bugging in my mind, soft and curious and completely unexpected:

I had seen Lucas somewhere before. Not at the club. Not at the restaurant. Somewhere else.

But where?

And then it hit me: Why did it take so long for me to realise I have to warn Kate...