Likehemeant nothing.
The ceiling had a crack running through it, thin and jagged, splitting the plaster down the middle. I traced it with my eyes for the hundredth time, following the fracture from corner to corner, wondering when it would finally break all the way through.
My phone sat facedown on the nightstand. Silent now. No texts. No calls. Nothing.
Good,I told myself.That's what you wanted. Clean break. No complications.
But my chest felt hollow. Like someone had scooped out everything vital and left me with just the shell.
Outside, campus was waking up. Footsteps in the hallway. Muffled laughter. Someone's alarm blaring through the walluntil it cut off mid-shriek. The world kept moving like nothing had changed.
Like I hadn't just told Calder Shaw goodbye.
I rolled onto my side, pulled the blanket tighter. It didn't help. Nothing helped.
His voice kept playing on a loop—You looked happy out there today.
I hadn't been. Not even close. Nate's mouth on mine felt like performance art, cold and calculated, designed for cameras and headlines and nothing real. I'd stood there and let it happen because it was easier than explaining. Easier than watching Calder's career burn because of me.
I'm trying to protect you,I'd said.
And he'd thrown it back in my face like I was lying.
Maybe I was. Maybe protecting him was just an excuse to run before I got in too deep. Before I admitted that what happened between us wasn't just sex or rebellion or escape.
It washim.
And I wanted him in ways that terrified me.
I sat up slowly, pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars. The pressure helped. Grounded me. Reminded me I was still here, still breathing, still functional.
You don't get to fall apart;I told myself.Not over a man who can't even say he wants you sober.
But that wasn't fair. He'd been drunk, yes—angry and jealous and spiraling. But underneath all that noise, I'd heard something else. Something raw and desperate that mirrored the ache in my own chest.
He wanted me.
And I wanted him.
And neither of us could have what we wanted without destroying everything we'd built.
My phone buzzed. Once. Sharp and insistent.
I reached for it before I could stop myself, heart hammering, hoping?—
Hannah. Not him.
You ok? Haven't heard from you in a while.
I typed back fast, muscle memory:
Fine. Hockey's been busy.
Dealing with some stuff. Talk later?
Sent it before I could overthink.
The phone went dark. I set it back down, facedown again, like that would stop me from checking it every thirty seconds.
