Adopted to Biological? Keep Your Golden Child Scapegoat Out novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The wind outside the hotel was cold, cutting across my face with the bleakness of autumn.

Lily carried my equipment case, her footsteps light-like she was afraid to disturb me.

I’d barely reached the curb when I heard hurried footsteps behind me. Someone calling my name.

“Scarlett, wait!”

I turned around. It was Freddie.

His suit jacket was draped over his arm. His hair was a mess. Sweat covered his forehead.

He ran up to me, breathing hard, his chest heaving. His eyes were full of guilt.

“I’m sorry.” His voice came out hoarse. “I’m sorry I didn’t come find you back then. I’m sorry… for being with Sienna.”

I looked at him. Sunlight fell across his face, highlighting the fine lines at the corners of his eyes.

When we were kids, he used to say my eyes were big, like a deer’s. But now, his eyes didn’t hold any trace of what they used to.

I thought back to senior year of high school. He’d climbed over the wall, clutching a piece of milk candy in his hand, saying, “Scarlett, let’s both get into NYU. When we do, I’ll take you to see the ocean.”

I remembered the sweetness of that candy for years.

“Why did you get together with her?”

I asked. My voice was soft. The wind could’ve carried it away.

“In college, she came to me and said you’d forgotten about me. That you’d gone to UT Austin and were never coming back.”

His fingers clenched the jacket so tightly his knuckles went white.

“She said you hated me. That you hated me for not standing up for you back then. I… I panicked. I tried to find you, but you’d changed your number. The old house was empty. I thought… I thought you really didn’t want to see me anymore.”

Something twisted sharply in my chest. It hurt.

“Freddie, we were never meant to be.”

He froze. The color drained from his face.

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He just stared at me, his eyes full of despair.

“I never got to eat that candy.” I turned to Lily. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t look back.

The wind carried his voice to me, faint and broken: “Scarlett… I regret it…”

I know.

But what good is regret?

Some things, once you miss them, they’re gone. Like NYU all those years ago. Like Freddie.