He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. Just watched me with that still, unnerving calm that made my stomach knot.
“I was filling out college applications,” I went on, my voice cracking. “And an ad popped up. I clicked the wrong button, and then a photo of you was on the screen—smiling, holding your helmet—and I just…I couldn’t look away.”
My laugh came out small and broken. “I know how that sounds. I know. But from the second I saw you, Iknew…I’d never wanted anyone more.”
There was still nothing from him. His face stayed impassive, eyes dark and fixed on mine.
“I started reading about you, watching every video I could,” I whispered. “Highlight reels. Stats. Interviews. I memorized your favorite cereal, the way you tie your shoes, the brand of socks you wear. I learned to make chicken noodle soup because you once mentioned it was your favorite during an interview. I knew what your family looked like before I knew what campus looked like.”
I looked away, wishing he would say something,anything…even if it was to scream at me.
“When I got here, it got worse,” I said quietly. “I found your house. Your class schedule. I knew what time you left the gym, what table you sat at during lunch, which route you took to the library. I followed you every day—not close enough to get caught. Just close enough to breathe the same air.”
His jaw flexed, but he didn’t speak.
“I tried out for the tiger mascot so I could be on the field with you,” I whispered. “I sat in the parking lot for every practice. I recorded your voice and played it on loop so I could fall asleep.”
My chest ached. The words spilled faster.
“I transferred into the only class of yours I was allowed to. I stole your hat after a game, kept a mouthpiece in a Ziploc so I could taste you. I wore one of your practice jerseys under my clothes for a week straight—slept in it, showered in it,camein it.”
His silence was suffocating.
“I tried to dress the way I thought you liked. I looked through photos and saw what kind of girls smiled at you, what they wore, how they talked. I tried to be that. I tried to be what you’d want. I even learned to throw a spiral just so I could imagine teaching our kids.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, hot and humiliating. “But it didn’t work. You didn’t even look at me. Not once.”
There was a frown on his lips now, but I still couldn’t read it.
So I just kept talking.
“And then, when I’d finally given up on ever having you…you looked up and saw me in class.”
The words hung between us—soft, fragile, and ruinous.
“That was it,” I said. “That was the moment my whole world changed.”
I pulled myself off the floor, never taking my eyes off him. I was afraid if I did, he would be gone.
“I love you,” I said, the words small and trembling at first, then stronger, like they’d been waiting years to be spoken. “These past few weeks with you…they’ve been the best of my life. Every second, every breath, every heartbeat. I didn’t say it before because love isn’t big enough. It’s too soft, too ordinary for what I feel. What I feel is a religion. You’re my god, Matty. My altar. My everything. And no one, no one on this earth, will ever worship you the way I do.”
For a heartbeat, the world went still. There was just the sound of my pulse thrumming in my ears and the sting of tears on my cheeks.
Matty’s eyes closed. His jaw flexed once, like he was fighting something he didn’t have a name for.
A shiver ran through him, barely there, but enough that I saw it.
When he finally opened his eyes again, they looked…wilder.
“Have you done something like this before?” he finally asked in an even, blank voice.
The question cut through the space between us, gentle but direct, and it made my stomach twist. My lip quivered. I wanted to lie—to shake my head, to say no. Because I knew how it looked. If I told him, he might think…
But his gaze didn’t waver. “The truth, Ophelia.”
I swallowed hard, my throat aching. “When I was fourteen…my parents sent me away. To a facility. For two years.”
I hesitated, but when he didn’t say anything, I kept going.
