The Miller Sisters: Jamie's Temptation

Chapter 4

Chapter 3: Regret

Seeing Mattie again was like being punched in the gut—hard. I hadn’t expected to run into her, hadn’t even considered the possibility when I heard she was back in Lilygrove. But there she was, standing in the parking lot, her face just as familiar and painfully beautiful as I remembered. And yet, something was different about her.

It had been six years. Six long years since I made the biggest mistake of my life. And even now, the memory of that day gnawed at me like an open wound that had never truly healed.

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I still remember the way she smiled at me, her eyes bright and full of trust, as if she believed I could never do anything to hurt her. That day, I had picked her up outside the school gym, her face flushed from the heat, her hair pulled back in that messy ponytail she always wore. She looked at me like I was her entire world, and for a moment, I almost believed I could be.

We had spent the afternoon together, walking hand in hand through the park, talking about graduation and our futures. She was so smart—way smarter than me—and she had plans. She was going to Cambridge, of all places. Cambridge. I used to joke that she was too good for our little town, too good for the likes of me, but the truth was, deep down, I believed it.

She had been the only one to ever see past the mask I wore. The bravado, the cocky smirk, the jock attitude that everyone at school expected from me—it all fell away when I was with her. She made me feel like I was more than just some dumb ice hockey player. With Mattie, I could be real. I could be... better.

But then there was the bet.

God, I wish I could go back and change that. I wish I could go back to that moment when my friends—my so-called “bros”—came up with that stupid, cruel bet. Dating the “pizza face girl.” That’s what they called her. They thought it was hilarious, especially since Mattie’s face had changed in our senior year. The bumps and boils from that genetic disease had taken hold, and people, being the jerks they are, started treating her differently. She had gone from one of the prettiest girls at school to someone people whispered about behind her back. But to me, she was still Mattie.

I didn’t care about her face. I never did. Yeah, the bumps were there, but so what? Beneath them, she was still the girl who had stolen my heart without even trying. I loved the way she laughed, how her nose crinkled when she was deep in thought, how her eyes sparkled when she got passionate about something. She was smart—smarter than me by miles—and she was kind in a way that made me feel like maybe I wasn’t such a screw-up after all.

But I couldn’t let the guys see that. I couldn’t let them know that I was falling for her, that she meant more to me than just some stupid bet. So I played along, pretending that I didn’t care, pretending that she was just another conquest. And when the teasing got to be too much, when they started calling me out for being soft, I did the worst thing I could have done.

I ended it. Publicly. Cruelly.

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That day is burned into my memory like a scar that refuses to fade. I told Mattie the truth—about the bet, about why I had dated her—and I watched as the light in her eyes dimmed, as her face crumpled with hurt and confusion. I had never seen her look so vulnerable, so broken, and it destroyed me in ways I hadn’t expected.

What she didn’t know—what no one knew—was that I cried after that. I had never been the type of guy to cry, but that day, I couldn’t hold it back. As soon as I walked away from her, from the look of betrayal on her face, I ducked behind the bleachers and let the tears fall. It wasn’t just guilt. It was something deeper. It was the realization that I had just lost the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I had no one to blame but myself.

I knew I couldn’t undo it. The damage was done, and there was no going back. Mattie was gone, and with her went the part of me that had started to believe I could be better, that I could be more than just the meathead jock everyone saw on the surface.

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Until today.

Seeing her again stirred something in me I hadn’t felt in years. That same vulnerability, that same regret, came rushing back like a tidal wave. She was different now. Her face, still slightly round, had an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. The innocence in her eyes had been replaced by something colder, harder. And her smile—God, that crooked smile I used to love—was gone, replaced by a look of indifference that hit me like a punch to the gut.

She wasn’t the same girl I had known, and I shouldn’t have been surprised. Six years had passed. People change. But seeing her like that... it hurt in a way I couldn’t describe.

I hadn’t meant to approach her. I had told myself I would keep my distance, that it was better that way. But my legs had other ideas, and before I knew it, I was standing there in front of her, fumbling over my words like some nervous kid.

She didn’t seem particularly thrilled to see me, and I couldn’t blame her. I had done the unforgivable. I had hurt her in the worst way possible, and I knew that no amount of apologies could ever make up for it.

But then... there was the boy.

He couldn’t have been more than five or six, and he looked so much like her it almost knocked me off my feet. Same big eyes, same dark curls, same crooked smile that used to light up my world. The resemblance was uncanny, and for a moment, I found myself staring at him, my mind racing with possibilities.

Could it be?

I tried to keep my composure as I looked at Mattie, trying to piece together what this meant. She had a son. And he looked like her—so much like her. But that wasn’t what had me on edge. It was the timing. The boy couldn’t have been more than six years old, which meant... it was possible. It was possible that he could be mine.

I didn’t dare ask. Not then. Not in front of her son. But the thought lodged itself in my mind, refusing to be ignored.

Could he be mine?

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That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About her. About the boy.

I replayed our conversation over and over in my head, trying to find clues, trying to make sense of it all. She had been so guarded, so distant, and I couldn’t blame her for that. But there was something else there, something unspoken that hung between us like a heavy weight.

I thought about the day I had ended things with her, how different things might have been if I had just had the guts to stand up to my friends, to tell them that I didn’t care about the bet, that I cared about Mattie. Maybe then I wouldn’t be lying here now, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if I had lost more than just a girlfriend that day.

If that boy was mine... God, I didn’t even know how to process that. I had never imagined myself as a father. Hell, I hadn’t even thought about it. But if he was mine, if there was even a chance... I didn’t know what to do with that.

I needed answers. I needed to know the truth. But more than that, I needed to find a way to make things right, even if it was too late for us. I owed her that much.

Because the truth was, I had never gotten over her. Not really. I had tried, sure. I had gone through the motions, dated other girls, tried to move on. But none of them were Mattie. None of them made me feel the way she did.

And now, seeing her again, I realized that those feelings hadn’t gone away. They had just been buried under layers of guilt and regret. But they were still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to break free.

I had no idea what the future held, but I knew one thing for sure: I couldn’t walk away from this. Not again.

I had to find out the truth.