Too bad Leo is across campus teaching a class right now.
However, Chase doesn’t know that.
“I was wondering if we could talk?” he asks.
I study him. Wait a few seconds to see if his face betrays the performance.
But there’s nothing. No twitch of impatience, no simmering frustration under the surface.
Just sincerity. Or something that looks an awful lot like it.
“Give me just a minute,” I say, my voice steady. “Then I can take my lunch break. We can go somewhere to talk, okay?”
Relief flickers across his face, softening his jaw. “That sounds great. Um… do you want me to wait outside, or…?”
I glance toward the chair in front of my desk, the one students use when they need me to sort out their schedules. Neutral ground.
“You can sit there. I’ll just be a minute.”
He nods and walks the few steps forward, dropping into the chair before letting his eyes roam the office like he needs something to focus on. He doesn’t stare at me, which I appreciate. The silence stretches, but not in the old way—the tense, buzzing way that usedto make me fill it with nervous chatter. This silence just exists, and I let it.
I finish my email, close the laptop, and slip into my coat. It’s early for lunch, barely past eleven, but I don’t care. I grab my purse and gesture toward the door. “Does pizza work for you?”
His mouth curves into the faintest smile. “Sounds good.”
Outside,February air slaps against my cheeks, sharp and wet with the promise of snow. The quad is full of students hustling between classes, collars pulled up, scarves covering their mouths.
Chase walks beside me but not close enough to brush my arm, and for that, I’m grateful. We pass the student center, the library, and then step into the warmth of Nico’s.
Garlic and dough and melted cheese wrap around us like a blanket. It’s cozy, crowded, every table buzzing with students and professors trying to steal warmth from both food and each other.
We place our orders at the kiosk. Chase pays. I don’t argue, just murmur thanks, and lead us to a two-person table tucked against the side wall near the back. It’s the kind of spot where I can see the whole room, mainly, the entrance.
Leo’s class doesn’t let out until 11:20, so I didn’t bother scanning the room when we entered.
But if he walks through that front door, I want to know it.
Chase sits across from me, his elbows on the table, eyes searching mine for a beat too long.
Then he says, “You look good.”
I huff out a soft laugh, not unkind.
“Thanks. You look… tired.”
Because he does. Dark circles under his eyes. Shoulders drawn tight.
He’s always carried a certain recklessness about him, but today it looks heavier, like it’s wearing him down.
He runs a hand through his sandy hair, chuckling quietly.
“Yeah, well. These last few months have been kinda rough.”
I nod. I don’t offer more. I’m not here to make this easy for him.
Silence again. I let it sit.
He clears his throat.
