I study him, but his expression gives nothing away. If he’s bluffing, I can’t tell. And if he really doesn’t know… I let the thought trail off.
“And what if…I didn’t? Belong in New York, I mean.”
The air changes.
His hand slips from my shoulder to my thigh, fingers resting just above my knee, his grip light but unmistakably possessive.
“You will,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on mine. “Because I love you and you belong next to me.”
My chest tightens. “That’s not an answer.”
Nathaniel’s jaw clenches. A ripple of tension moves through his frame. He leans in, brushing his lips over the shell of my ear.
“But it’s the truth.”
And I hate that it is. Because Idolove him. Enough to crave his approval. Enough to let him interfere. Enough to lie by omission.
My throat closes around the truth I don’t say—that the role I applied for is far from Manhattan. That he used his influence to intervene in something he doesn’t fully understand. That I let him. Instead, I nod like I’ve accepted the truth he’s given me, even as the silence between us stretches.
He studies me. “Are you mad?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
I know he means well. In Nathaniel’s mind, thisislove—stepping in when he thinks I need it, protecting me before I even ask. Maybe that’s what makes this so hard to parse, because a part of me understands the instinct… But at the same time, I can’t deny the other part of me that’s appalled at how easily—how unapologetically—he moves through my life as if it’s already woven into his own.
He pulls me into his arms, wrapping me tight in his embrace. He buries his face in my hair, and I feel the tremble in his breath as it brushes my skin.
“I can live with that,” he whispers. “As long as you stay. Please…stay. Don’t leave again.”
The ache in his voice hits me harder than any argument could. I want to stay angry. Ishouldbe angry. But his sincerity slips past any defenses I had left. I sink into him, letting my forehead rest against his collarbone. I’m too tired to fight the gravity between us.
I’m not going anywhere tonight.
But even as I melt into his arms, his breath warm against my temple, one thought echoes louder than the rest?—
Eventually, I’ll have to tell him the truth.
And when I do, this fragile peace we’ve wrapped ourselves in may not survive it.
NINE
nathaniel
The benchoutside Olivia’s dorm is nothing remarkable—faded wood, creaking slightly when she shifts beside me—but it holds her. That makes it sacred.
Lunch was a compromise. One she allowed. I took her to the diner near campus, the one where we had our first date, and pretended it was enough. I smiled when she smiled. Laughed when she laughed. Held her hand across the booth and ignored the knot tightening in my chest with every passing minute. I used to fantasize about monopolizing her every night, every morning. Now I ration myself in hours and pretend it’s progress.
We’ve come so far since that first date—closer, in every way. More entangled, for sure. But lately, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re…out of sync. Not drifting apart, exactly. Just not quite in step. Like I’m trying to follow a rhythm only she can hear.
We walk the short path to her building, the air crisp, her hair catching in the wind like silk ribbons. She talks about her meeting with Professor De Vries, something about rescheduling their next session, and I nod at all the right times, though I barely register a word. All I can think about is that we’ll be apart tonight.
Again.
When we reach the steps, I force the corners of my mouth to lift. I’ve mastered this performance—just enough curve to seem soft, just enough softness in my eyes to hide the storm.
“Text me goodnight,” I say, brushing a thumb along her wrist.
“I will,” she promises.
