chapter 1
1049 Words
Jack’s POV
The roar of the crowd hit me the second the car door opened. The noise was deafening, a wave of cheers and shouts that filled the icy December air and bounced off the snow-covered buildings of the town square. I hesitated for half a second, then stepped out into the spotlight, my breath clouding in front of me as the cold air bit at my skin.
“Jack! Over here!”
“You’re a legend!”
“Jack, welcome back!”
The chants came from all directions, their voices blending into a single chaotic hum. My name was everywhere—on posters, banners, even on the cheeks of kids waving soccer balls in the air. It was overwhelming.
And fake.
I plastered on the smile that had carried me through years of press conferences and sponsorship appearances, giving the crowd a polite wave. The cameras flashed furiously, capturing every angle, every movement. I could feel their eyes on me, filled with adoration and pride, like they had a piece of me.
But they didn’t know me. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.
---
“Big crowd,” Leo, my agent, said as he stepped out behind me, his voice low and smooth, as if none of this chaos fazed him. “You’re the golden boy of this town, Jack. Play it up. Smile, shake hands. Show them why you’re a star.”
I nodded absently, my gaze sweeping over the square. The massive Christmas tree stood at its center, glittering with a thousand lights. Vendors lined the edges, selling hot cocoa and baked goods, while families in scarves and heavy coats huddled together, soaking in the holiday magic. It looked perfect, like something out of a postcard.
But I knew better. Beneath all the lights and cheers, this town hadn’t changed. The same streets where I’d run drills as a kid. The same people who’d whispered behind my back, calling me a dreamer, a nobody. And somewhere out there in the crowd, the same person who had proven them all right.
Rose Bennett.
---
“Jack, how does it feel to be back?” a reporter called, thrusting a microphone in my face.
“It’s great to be home,” I replied, my tone even, practiced. “This town will always be special to me. It’s where my dreams began.”
The crowd erupted into applause, but the words tasted hollow. I shook a few hands, posed for photos, signed soccer balls for kids whose faces lit up like I’d handed them a golden ticket. For a moment, I let myself focus on their smiles. The kids were innocent. They didn’t know the weight of the past.
But the adults? The reporters? I could feel their questions pressing against the air, the unspoken curiosity hanging like a storm cloud.
“Jack, are you staying for Christmas?”
“Do you plan to reconnect with old friends?”
My smile tightened, and I brushed them off with polite answers. I wasn’t here for nostalgia. This wasn’t a reunion. It was a job—a carefully calculated event to boost the charity, the sponsors, and my career.
Or so I told myself.
---
As the ceremony continued, my gaze scanned the crowd automatically, searching for something I didn’t want to find.
And then I saw her.
She was standing near the edge of the square, microphone in hand, her cameraman adjusting the angle beside her. The sight of her hit me like a punch to the chest.
Rose Bennett.
Her hair was tucked beneath a knit hat, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. She looked almost the same as she had five years ago. But there was a tension in her posture, a tightness around her mouth, that I didn’t remember.
She was watching me, her eyes wide and uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if she should approach.
My jaw clenched, my chest tightening. Of course she was here. She always had a way of showing up where I least wanted her.
“Jack, over here!” another voice called, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I turned back to the crowd, but my attention kept flickering back to her. Every cheer, every camera flash felt distant, drowned out by the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears.
“She’s still in town, huh?” a man beside me murmured, following my gaze. His voice was low, almost amused. “Guess some people never leave.”
I forced a smile, ignoring the heat rising in my chest.
“She has no business being here,” I muttered under my breath.
The man raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Old flames, huh?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My mind was racing, a thousand memories crashing into me at once—the sound of her voice that night, the way she’d laughed as if I meant nothing, the look on her face as she kissed Angelo in front of everyone.
I clenched my fists, forcing the images away. This wasn’t high school. I wasn’t the same naive kid who’d let her shatter me.
But as much as I wanted to forget her, the sight of her standing there, the way she looked at me like she had something to say…
I knew this wasn’t over.
---
The whispers started as the event wrapped up.
“Isn’t that Rose Bennett?”
“Didn’t she dump him at graduation?”
“She’s covering this? That’s bold.”
Their voices carried over the cheers and laughter, cutting through the noise like knives. I tried to ignore them, to focus on signing the last few autographs and shaking the last few hands.
But their words burrowed into my mind, feeding the fire that had been smoldering since I stepped off the plane.
I looked at her one last time before I left the stage. She was still watching me, her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands clutching the microphone like it was the only thing keeping her steady.
I turned away, my chest tight with anger and something darker. If she thought she could waltz back into my life, she was wrong.
If she was here to drag me back into the past, I’d make damn sure she regretted it.
- Writer
