I told myself it meant nothing.
That the way James looked at me outside the dorms was just... residual emotion. A leftover echo of a connection that never really had a chance to become anything real. I told myself that the way my heart reacted with that little leap, that sharp twist was just habit. A response to chaos, not chemistry.
But deep down, I knew I was lying. Again.
I lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, tracing cracks in the paint with my eyes as my thoughts spun into a tangled web of guilt, doubt, and denial.
Jace had been nothing but good to me. Forgiving. Patient. Real.
And yet, one unexpected conversation with James, one hint of that old familiar fire, and I was unsteady again.
By morning, I had resolved to keep my distance. Again.
But the universe had other plans.
It started with a missed class.
Then another.
By noon, I found myself walking the path between the Fine Arts building and the old fountain, where the ivy draped like a green curtain over the stone walls.
And there he was.
James.
Leaning against the edge of the fountain, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
I stopped short, my stomach clenching.
He saw me immediately, as if he'd been waiting again.
"Seriously?" I said, folding my arms. "Are you following me now?"
He didn't flinch. "We never finished our conversation."
"There is nothing to finish," I replied. "You're the one who's been lying. Playing games. I saw the photos. I heard everything from Cami."
He stepped closer, slowly, cautiously, like he was approaching something wild and cornered.
"I didn't lie. We were together, yes. But we're over now."
I narrowed my eyes. "Convenient timing."
"It's the truth."
"And you expect me to believe that?"
His jaw tightened. "No. I expect you to at least hear me out."
I stared at him for a long beat, then sat on the fountain edge, keeping space between us.
"Fine. Talk."
He glanced down, exhaled slowly, then began. "Her name is Alana. We were together for almost two years. In the beginning, it was everything you'd hope for passionate, exciting, unpredictable. She had this wild energy that drew me in. But somewhere along the line, that energy became chaos. We stopped growing together. I stayed out of loyalty… maybe guilt. It was easier to keep pretending than face what we'd become. But then I met you. And suddenly, pretending wasn't enough anymore."
I stiffened.
"You're blaming this on me?"
"No," he said quickly. "Not blaming. But meeting you,it made me realize I was stuck in something that didn't make me happy anymore. I ended it. Weeks ago. She's just... not ready to let go."
I looked away. "She still thinks you're together."
"I know… I've seen the posts. She's been sharing old pictures like everything's still the same, like nothing ever changed between us. And yeah, I haven't said anything publicly. Not because I don't have anything to say—I do. God, I do. But I didn't want to humiliate her. No matter what happened, I still care. I didn't want to drag her through the mud or turn this into some ugly spectacle for everyone to gawk at online. That's not who I am… and deep down, I don't think that's who she is either."
My laugh was bitter. "How noble."
His face fell. "I know how it looks. But I swear, Viola, I never meant to drag you into anything messy."
"You mean you never thought you'd get caught," I snapped.
He looked genuinely hurt. "No. I mean I didn't think I'd fall for you."
Silence. My breath caught in my throat.
"James…"
"I'm not proud of how it started," he continued, his voice softer now. "But I can't pretend it didn't mean something."
I shook my head, more to myself than him.
"I can't do this," I whispered, my voice barely holding together. "I've already hurt someone who didn't deserve it."
"You mean Jace," James said, his voice calm but piercing.
I flinched the moment his name left James's mouth like hearing it aloud made the guilt more real, more permanent.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "Jace."
James studied me for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "I get it," he said finally. "You feel safe with him. He's steady. Predictable. He grounds you when everything else feels like it's spiraling out of control."
I looked away, trying to keep my composure. "And you think that's a bad thing?"
"No," he said after a pause, his voice softer now. "I think it's what most people want. Comfort. Stability. A love that doesn't keep them up at night questioning everything. But not you."
I turned to face him again, heart racing.
"Not me?" I echoed.
I looked up sharply. "You don't know me."
"I know enough," he said, stepping closer. "I know you want something real. Raw. Something that shakes you. Makes you question everything."
"And you think that's you?"
He didn't answer.
And maybe he didn't need to.
Because I felt it. That pull. That storm. That terrifying, irresistible gravity.
I stood, needing space, needing clarity.
"You're wrong about him," I said. "Jace is real. And he's good for me."
He didn't argue.
Instead, he asked, "Then why are you still standing here?"
That night, I cried.
Not loud, sobbing tears.
But quiet ones.
The kind that burn behind your eyes and drip silently onto your pillow, unnoticed by the world. The kind that ache instead of sting.
I cried because I hated how much of me still wanted James.
I cried because Jace had forgiven me once and I wasn't sure he could do it again.
I cried because I didn't know what the right thing was anymore.
Was love supposed to feel safe? Or was it supposed to feel wild?
Was choosing Jace the grown-up decision... or the easy way out?
---
The next morning, I walked into the café by campus, bleary-eyed and barely holding it together.
I ordered my usual and turned to find a seat
and nearly walked straight into Jace.
He was holding a coffee and a chocolate croissant. My favorite.
I froze.
"Hey," he said, offering a soft smile.
"Hey."
"I figured I might find you here," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to talk."
I nodded slowly. "Me too."
We sat near the window, a patch of sun spilling across our table.
"I saw you with him," Jace said quietly. "At the fountain."
I winced. "It wasn't what it looked like."
"I'm not mad."
That surprised me.
"I'm not even shocked," he added. "I think… I knew this wasn't over."
I stared at him, confused.
"I saw the way you looked at him, Vee. Back at the party. And I've seen the way you've been avoiding eye contact every time his name comes up."
I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand.
"I'm not saying this to guilt you. I just… I need to be honest. And I need you to be, too."
I looked down at my coffee. "I don't want to hurt you."
He gave a sad smile. "Too late for that."
Tears pricked my eyes.
"I care about you, Jace. So much. But I think there's a part of me that still wants him," he finished for me.
I couldn't deny it.
"I wish I didn't," I whispered.
He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
"You're not a bad person, Vee. You're just... caught between two versions of yourself. One that wants peace, and one that craves fire."
I laughed weakly through the tears. "That sounds exhausting."
"It is," he said with a smile. "But maybe, when you figure out which one wins... you'll finally know what you really want."
The days that followed were blurry.
I tried to throw myself into school, into studying, into anything that wasn't tangled hearts and aching guilt.
But it followed me. Everywhere.
In every hallway I turned down.
In every text I left unread.
Until one afternoon, James cornered me by the old theater building.
"I need an answer," he said simply.
"To what?"
"To us. To whatever this is."
I hesitated. "You can't just demand that."
"I'm not demanding," he said. "I'm asking. One last time."
I looked up at him.
"I don't trust you."
"I don't blame you."
"And I don't know if I ever can."
He stepped closer. "Then let me earn it."
I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, I whispered, "This isn't just about you. Or Jace. This is about me. About who I become when I'm with you."
"And who is that?"
"I don't know yet," I admitted. "But I think I need to figure it out… before I make any more choices."
He nodded, though disappointment flickered across his face.
"I can wait," he said. "But I won't wait forever."
"I'm not asking you to," I replied.
And then I walked away,heart pounding, breath shallow.
Maybe for the first time, I wasn't running from something.
Maybe I was finally running toward myself.