I love him.
I love them.
Every one of them.
But the realization doesn’t clarify anything—it blurs everything even more. Because love isn’t supposed to feel like this. Like joy, guilt, longing, and fear tangled into one impossible knot.
It feels like betrayal.
Not to them.
To Reign. To the delicate bond the four of us share—one I’ve been terrified of shattering.
I don’t want to choose. I can’t.
Choosing one would carve pieces away from the others. From me.
So, I do what I’ve always done.
I smile. Just enough to convince them I’m fine. That everything between us is still whole.
And then I shove my feelings back down.
Bury them deep enough they stop clawing at the surface.
Pretending is safer than risking everything.
At least, it was—until Reign absolutely lost it at the lake the next weekend.
We’d gathered at our usual spot by the water, the sun dipping low and painting the world in molten gold, like we’d stumbled into a living postcard. It was one of those perfect late-summer evenings where the air tasted like bonfires and whatever fruit punch Ronan had irresponsibly spiked with something mysterious he’d found in the back of his dad’s liquor cabinet.
Everyone was laughing—loud, loose, fearless. The kind of carefree happiness that made secrets feel unbearably heavy. Like they were waiting for the right moment to fall. And fall they did.
Reign shot to her feet—full resurrection energy—right in the middle of the group, arms thrown wide like she was Mosesparting the Red Sea, except she was wearing cutoff shorts and a tank top with a cartoon taco on it. Her face was lit with a wild grin, eyes blazing with theatrical fury.
“Enough!” she shouts, as if she were about to give a TED Talk on Emotional Avoidance. Every single person froze mid-laugh, mid-sip, mid-questionable life choice. The only movement came from the wind stirring the trees, like even nature knew we were seconds away from emotional carnage. Reign turned in a slow, dramatic circle—arms still raised—as if she were either blessing us or calling down a curse. Honestly, it could’ve gone either way.
“What are we doing?” she demands. “Tiptoeing around each other like we’re not stuck in some weird romantic sitcom that refuses to admit it’s a love story?”
Silence. Absolute silence.
Ronan blinked down at his cup, squinting like he wasn’t sure if this was actually happening or if the spiked punch was hitting harder than expected.
“Just say it!” Reign continued, voice echoing over the lake. “Say you love her! Say you all love each other! I’m so tired of pretending we don’t notice. There is more unresolved tension in this friend group than a bad fanfiction.”
I almost laugh—really, I did—until I realized every single pair of eyes had shifted to me.
Rowen, steady and grounding.
Ronan, hopeful and open.
Emerson... unreadable but burning all the same.
And suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.
My heart shot into my throat, and my brain short-circuited. If someone had handed me a fire alarm, I would’ve pulled it just to create chaos and disappear into it.
So naturally, I did the only thing that made absolutely zero sense.
