He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Scar’s POV

Dear Diary,

Tonight, I am going out with Summer’s friends–Gavin and Maisie. She told me the three of them had gone to high school together, and she also told me both of them were bisexual. She said all three of them have had sex before, and the way she described it made it sound like some life–changing, glowing kind of freedom.

It makes me feel like I have finally stumbled into the right crowd.

I admitted to her that I’ve never really tried much sexually. That I barely even know how to give a blowjob. She didn’t laugh or act weird–she just told me to stay close to her and she would introduce me to an entirely different world.

I’m nervous. I’m also buzzing with excitement.

***

“So what’s the plan tonight?” I asked Summer as we headed out.

“Step one: dinner with Gavin and Maisie at Ravello Trattoria,” she said, eyes on the road. “Best Italian in town. Sweet old Italian couple owns it, and the whole family runs it. It’s the kind of place that tastes like it’s been perfected for fifty years.”

Then she grinned. “You’ll lose your mind. The food is practically porn.”

I laughed because she always talked like that–dramatic, fearless, and completely

committed to every word.

“And step two,” she continued, flicking her gaze over me, “we’re fixing that outfit. Because

that is not what we’re wearing tonight.”

She was driving like she had someplace to be, sliding through traffic with an ease that made me clutch my seatbelt a little tighter. I looked down at myself, frowning.

Peach sundress. White heels. Hair up high with loose pieces softening my face.

“I thought I looked cute,” I said.

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“You do,” Summer agreed immediately. “For Sunday brunch. For a garden party. For meeting someone’s grandma.”

She pointed at me again, like she was underlining a sentence. “But tonight? Tonight you’re going to look dangerous. You’re divorced, you’re young, and you’re built like an hourglass. Tiny waist, curves for days, and what–big B, small C? Those breasts deserve to be seen.”

I sputtered. “Summer-”

“The fastest way to get past one man,” she said, as if reciting scripture, “is to get under someone else. Trust me.”

I stared out the window, jaw tight. “I am past him. I really am. The anger I feel? The hate? There won’t ever be a second chance for us.‘

”

Summer’s expression shifted, still calm but sharper around the edges. “If you were over him, you’d feel nothing. No rage, no fire. Indifference is the finish line.”

She exhaled. “And if you ever see him again–and you might, eventually–you should be able to remember good things without wanting to burn his life down.”

I turned to study her profile. She sounded like she knew that road intimately.

“Did someone do that to you?” I asked quietly.

Summer’s hands stayed steady on the wheel. “Yeah. My first love.”

She told it like it had been filed away and labeled, but it still carried weight.

“We met freshman year. Dated all through high school,” she said. “Senior prom, he tells me to hurry back from the bathroom because he has a surprise.”

Her mouth twisted. “I don’t think I have ever peed faster in my life. Now I take my time, alw ays.”

She glanced at me, then back to the road. “I was walking back and passed a classroom door that wasn’t fully shut. I heard voices–arguing. And because I’m nosy, I looked.”

She paused for a beat, like she could still see it.

“My best friend was crying. She told him she was pregnant. He was saying there was no

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way he’d used a condom with her.” Summer’s voice stayed even, but her eyes hardened. “It felt like my whole body cracked open. The guy I loved had been sleeping with my best

friend. She did that to me too.”

She swallowed once. “I must’ve made a sound, because they both turned. He looked

terrified. She looked… wrecked.”

Summer’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I lost it. I screamed. Asked how long

they’d been fucking behind my back. And I couldn’t even understand it–I was with him

constantly. Why would he need someone else?”

She gave a humorless huff. “He tried to say it happened once at a party I missed because I

was sick. And then she snapped at him and said that’s when it started, but it had been

going on for three months. She said he told her he loved her, and that he was going to leave

me.”

I could barely breathe listening.

“He denied it,” Summer finished..“Said it was only that one time. I didn’t know which lie to pick, so I picked neither of them. I cut them off completely.”

The car rolled toward the restaurant, headlights passing over storefronts.

“I carried it,” she said. “The anger. The humiliation. All of it. I left right after graduation. I went to college with Maisie and Gavin. And then last year, when I went home for Christmas, I saw them again–shopping with my mom.”

Summer’s voice softened, almost surprised by her own memory. “I felt nothing. No fury. No bitterness. Just… empty space where that pain used to live.”

She nodded to herself. “They had a little girl with them. She looked exactly like him.”

Summer’s lips pressed together. “I smiled at them. They went pale. He looked like he misse d me. She saw it, and I watched her face fall for half a second.”

She shrugged, small and final. “I turned away and kept shopping. That was the moment I knew I was done.”

I stared at her, stunned by the calm strength it took to say all that without shaking.

“You’re incredible,” I told her. “I’m so glad I met you.”

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Summer’s face brightened as she pulled into a parking spot. “Good. Because you’re stuck

with me now.”