He Posted Ninety-Nine Sorries And I Posted My Goodbye Chapter 10

He Posted Ninety-Nine Sorries And I Posted My Goodbye Chapter 10

I blinked, looked down at myself.

Nothing special.

I smiled and found a seat.

Halfway through dinner, someone brought up Ethan.

“Hey, anyone know where Ethan Cole ended up?”

“Northwood General. Pulmonology. I saw him there last time.”

“Is he married? I heard—”

“No.” Someone in the know cut in. “He’s single. Been waiting, I guess.”

The room went quiet.

Eyes landed on me.

I chewed a bite of broccoli slowly, my face giving nothing away.

“Sophie,” someone asked carefully. “Do you two still… talk?”

“No.” Flat. “No contact.”

It was almost eleven when we wrapped.

I called a ride. Fifteen-minute wait.

I was stepping back under the awning to dodge the rain when a car pulled up at the curb.

The window rolled down. Ethan behind the wheel, looking at me.

“Get in. It’s pouring.”

Around us, a few classmates recognized him, expressions shifting.

“That’s really Ethan…”

“He’s waiting for Sophie, right?”

“I’m good. I already called a car.”

His hands stayed on the wheel. Didn’t move.

“Sophie.”

“You’re going to get soaked.”

Three years ago. Amtrak station. Same rain, same offer.

I said “Ride-share,” and he laughed, said “Forty-seven people? You’ll be here till morning.”

Arrogant, cold, indifferent.

But now, he said “You’re going to get soaked.”

Different.

I shook my head. “Really, Ethan. I’m fine.”

He said nothing. Pushed the door open and stepped out.

Rain hit him immediately, soaked through in seconds. Hair plastered to his forehead, water running down his face.

He walked to me, stopped a few feet away. I stayed under the awning. He stood in the rain.

He looked at me, his features blurred through the downpour.

“Sophie.”

“Can we start over?”

“This time,” his voice cracked, “let me chase you.”

The whole world went quiet except the rain.

I looked at him standing there, and remembered—years ago, he’d stood in rain like this, waiting for my forgiveness.

Back then, one pinky-hook and I’d cave.

But it wasn’t like that anymore.

I’d come too far.

Far enough that looking back at him, I had to squint.

“Ethan.”

“I walked a long way to get where I am today.”

I held his eyes. “I’m not turning back.”

He stood there, rain soaking through his coat, his whole body shaking.

A car horn behind me.

I turned. My ride.

I opened the door and got in.

As the door closed, I heard him call my name.

“Sophie!”

…

We drove a long way before I pulled out my phone.

Messages lined the screen. All from him.

[Sophie. I’m done chasing.]

[But I’ll keep waiting.]

[Until the day you’re ready to look back.]

I didn’t reply.

Locked the screen, put the phone away.

The car stopped at a red light. The wipers kept swiping.

The light turned green. The driver hit the gas, and we pulled back onto the road.

It was still raining. But the sky would clear eventually.