Evie Carter has spent years burying the past, pretending her scars both seen and unseen don't exist. She's mastered the art of keeping people at arm's length, convinced that healing is just another word for forgetting. But when Noah Reynolds walks into her life, steady and patient in a way she's never known, her carefully constructed walls start to crack. Noah has his own ghosts ones he's been running from for as long as he can remember. He sees the pain Evie tries to hide because he recognizes it. And for the first time in years, he stops running. As their connection deepens, old wounds resurface, forcing them to confront the scars that have shaped them. But some scars run deeper than others, and love alone may not be enough to rewrite the past. Unwritten Scars is an emotional, heart-wrenching novel about love, loss, and the courage it takes to let someone in.
Chapter 1 Evie's Escape
Chapter 1: Evie's Escape
The air smelled different here and looked untouched. It carried the scent of pine and damp earth, so unlike the gasoline and concrete stench of Chicago. Evie Monroe stepped out of her car, gripping the cold metal key in her palm like it was the only thing tethering her to reality.
A tiny, forgotten house sat before her, nestled behind a field of wildflowers that swayed in the wind. It had peeling white paint, a sagging porch, and windows that looked like they hadn't been opened in years. It wasn't much, but it was hers. A fresh start.
Her stomach twisted. Can you really start over?
She swallowed hard and forced herself to move. Chicago was behind her. He was behind her. The bruises had faded, but the memories hadn't. She adjusted her grip on her suitcase and took the first step toward her new life.
The silence here was unsettling. She had spent years drowning in the noise of the city cars honking, people shouting, sirens wailing at all hours. Now, there was nothing but the whisper of the wind and the occasional chirp of a bird. It should've been peaceful. Instead, it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the ground to give way.
Evie reached the porch and fumbled with the key, her fingers shaking. It took her three tries to get the door open. She stepped inside, inhaling dust and wood. The space was a small one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, a living area with just enough space for a couch. The walls were bare, the floors scuffed, but for the first time in a long time, she was alone. Safe.
She dropped her bags by the door, pressing a hand to her chest to calm the rapid thudding of her heart.
Then the sound of tires crunching over gravel made her freeze.
Her breath hitched. A dark blue truck rolled into the driveway, sending a fresh wave of panic through her body. No. No, he can't be here. He doesn't know where you are.
Her hands clenched into fists. She needed to move, to run, but her feet stayed rooted to the wooden floor.
The driver's side door opened, and a man stepped out.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Tanned skin, a day or two's worth of stubble. Hands covered in sawdust. He wiped them on his jeans as he approached, his expression unreadable.
"Evie Monroe?"
His voice was deep, steady. Nothing like Liam's.
She nodded, throat tight.
"Noah Carter," he said. "I built your furniture."
She exhaled sharply, only now realizing she'd been holding her breath. Not Liam. Just a stranger.
Noah studied her for a moment, his gaze flicking over her stiff posture, the way she kept her weight shifted toward the door as if she might bolt. He didn't say anything about it. Instead, he jerked his chin toward the house.
"Mind if I bring the pieces in?"
Evie hesitated. She didn't want to let him inside. She didn't want to let anyone inside. But she had ordered the furniture weeks ago before she decided to run, before she knew how terrifying it would be to let a man into her space again.
She forced herself to nod. "Yeah. That's fine."
Noah didn't move right away. He studied her again, his eyes dark and unreadable, but there was no pressure in them. No threat.
Then he turned and headed back to his truck.
Evie released the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She pressed a trembling hand against the doorframe, steadying herself.
Not Liam. Just a stranger.
But as Noah carried the first piece of furniture up the porch steps, something about him unsettled her. It wasn't fear, exactly. It was something deeper.
Because when she met his eyes again, she saw it and he recognized something in her.
And that terrified her more than anything.