The campus felt unusually quiet the next morning, as if it, too, was nursing a hangover from the night before. I sat on a bench outside the library, staring blankly at the notes in my lap, pretending to study while my mind ran wild.
I hadn't slept much.
The memory of James's voice, the way he looked at me before walking away, and Cami's warning kept looping in my head like a broken song.
But mostly, it was Jace.
The pain in his eyes. The disappointment.
I had broken something. Something delicate and rare. A bond built slowly, like fragile glass spun by time and trust. And now, all I could think about was how to fix it before the cracks spread, before it shattered completely, beyond repair.
My phone buzzed.
Jace: Can we talk?
My heart sank. I knew this was coming.
Me: Sure. Where?
Jace: The bench near the gym.
I grabbed my things and headed over, my palms already sweating.
When I spotted him, he was sitting with his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground. His normally soft features were hardened, his jaw tight. It was the kind of stillness that came just before a storm was controlled, but barely. I hesitated, unsure if I should speak, unsure if I was even welcome. But the silence between us was louder than any apology I could offer.
I approached slowly.
"Hey," I said, barely above a whisper and with a shaky voice.
He looked up. For a moment, his face softened just slightly.
"Sit," he said.
I obeyed.
There was silence for a while the kind that stretched like a rubber band about to snap.
"I saw you," he said finally, voice quiet but firm. "At the party."
I swallowed hard. "I know."
He turned to me, his eyes full of something I couldn't bear, he was hurt.
"Why, Vee? I thought… I thought we were okay."
"I don't know," I whispered. "It just… happened. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"But you did," he said, looking away. "You lied to me, Viola. You told me you had class."
"I know," I said, shame creeping up my spine. "I was confused. I still am."
"About what?"
I hesitated. "About… him."
Jace tensed, then let out a bitter laugh. "So there is a him."
I didn't know what to say.
He ran a hand through his hair and stood up, pacing a few steps.
"I was falling for you," he said quietly, his back still to me.
I blinked fast, my throat tight. "You still can. I want to fix this."
He didn't look at me. His fingers curled into fists, knuckles white. For a long moment, he said nothing he just breathed, slow and controlled, like he was holding something in.
He turned sharply. "How do you plan to do that when you're still looking at someone else?"
I stood too, desperate now. "Because I'm choosing not to anymore. I'm choosing you, Jace."
He searched my face, uncertain.
"I know I messed up. I know I let something stupid get in my head. But you've always been good to me better than I deserve right now," I said, stepping closer. "And I'm sorry. Truly."
He finally looked up. His eyes met mine, and for a second, I saw it,the flicker of the boy I knew, the one who used to smile without hesitation. But it was fleeting.
He didn't speak right away.
Then slowly, he nodded. "Okay."
I blinked. "Okay?"
He sighed. "I want to believe you. I really do. But this… whatever we have… it has to be honest from now on. No lies. No distractions."
"I promise," I said quickly, reaching for him as i wrapped my hands around him.
He didn't pull away.
"Let's try again," I added softly.
And for the first time in days, something in my chest settled.
We sat again, closer this time, not touching, but sharing space-the beginning of healing.
Later, at his apartment, the quiet felt different it was warmer, softer. He made food without asking, the way he always used to. We didn't say much. We didn't need to.
When he brushed my hand as he passed me the plate, I didn't let go. Our fingers lingered. And then slowly, like gravity was pulling us together, we closed the distance.
His breath brushed against my skin, a soft, familiar warmth that made my heart beat a little faster. I could feel the tension between us, thick and electric, but not in the way it used to be. This wasn't the storm anymore. It was calm;the eye of the hurricane, maybe, where everything felt still and right.
His hands moved gently almost reverently, as he cupped my face, pulling me into a kiss that tasted of something simple,warmth, and the relief of no longer holding back. There was no rush this time, no urgency, just the quiet space to feel and remember.
When we finally pulled away, our foreheads rested together, sharing the same breath. The quiet between us now felt full, like everything that had been unspoken was finally being understood without needing words.
His hands slid down my back, slowly, as though testing the waters. The familiar weight of his touch was comforting, a reminder that despite everything, there was a place here for both of us,there was no shame, no barriers.
I leaned into him, closing my eyes as he kissed the side of my neck, his lips warm against my skin. Each touch, each kiss, was slower than before, like he was savoring me, or maybe searching for something,proof that we were still here, still alive, still real.
I moved with him, responding to the soft pull between us, and felt my body relax into the sensation of him,of us together again. The world outside didn't exist in that moment. There was only the feel of his lips, his hands, the way his heartbeat mirrored mine.
When we finally moved beyond the gentle embrace, it was slow, tender. Every touch was an offering, a quiet promise that no matter what came next, we would handle it together.
And when the night finally unfolded, it wasn't about the physical release. It was the closeness, the knowing look shared between us, the reaffirmation that we could still find our way back to each other, even in the quietest of moments.
I spent the rest of the week avoiding James like my sanity depended on it.
No texts. No eye contact. Not even a smile when we passed each other in the halls.
It was hard.
Painfully hard.
Because every time I looked at him, even for a second I remembered what it felt like to laugh in the sun with him. To feel the rush of something new, dangerous, exciting.
But I reminded myself of the photos.
Of the girl who still believed he was hers. Of Cami's warning. Of Jace,my Jace- kind, safe, warm Jace and the way he had looked at me when I asked for another chance.
So I focused on him instead.
We now went out for dinner, and I actually showed up on time. We studied together in the library. We walked hand-in-hand around campus, and he kissed my forehead like everything was okay.
And maybe it was. Maybe we weren't perfect,maybe we never would be but for once, it didn't feel like we were pretending. The weight between us had shifted, no longer something pulling us apart but something anchoring us.
He'd glance at me mid-sentence and smile like he couldn't quite believe we were here, still choosing each other. I caught myself doing the same.
It was in the little things now.The way he handed me a highlighter without asking, the way I remembered to bring him coffee just the way he liked it. Tiny offerings. Quiet love.
But deep down, I knew I was still lying.
Because no matter how far I ran from the storm, James still lived in my thoughts like lightning waiting to strike.
It all came crashing back one evening.
I was walking home from the bookstore, bag of snacks in hand, when I saw him leaning against the railing outside the dorms.
James.
Like he'd been waiting.
I froze.
Our eyes met.
His lips curved into a small, sad smile.
I hesitated, but he took a step forward.
"We need to talk," he said.
I shook my head. "There's nothing to talk about."
"You've been avoiding me."
"I have my reasons."
He looked down, then back up. "Is one of those reasons a guy named Jace?"
I stiffened. "Yes. And another is your girlfriend."
He scoffed. "Ex."
I narrowed my eyes. "Instagram says otherwise."
"She posts old pictures. We broke up last month."
I raised an eyebrow. "Funny how she doesn't know that."
"She's just… not over it yet."
I crossed my arms. "And you? Are you over it?"
He took a step closer. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."
"Doesn't matter," I said quickly. "I'm with someone now."
He nodded slowly. "So that's it? You're done with me?"
I swallowed hard. "I never even started with you."
His gaze darkened, and for a second, I thought he'd walk away.
But instead, he said, "You can lie to yourself, Vee. But I see it in your eyes. You feel it too."
I opened my mouth to deny it, to argue, to scream but nothing came out.
Because I knew he was right.
"I can't do this," I whispered.
"I think you already are," he said softly.
And then he turned and walked away.
Just like before.
And I stood there in the fading light, torn between two truths:
The one I chose…
And the one I couldn't seem to let go of.