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Chapter 19: Sleepless Nights

Auteur: JJ Dynamic
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2026-01-11 22:56:02

Ethan left the balcony in a haze, the cool night air still clinging to his skin as he rejoined the dance floor. Friends immediately surrounded him, sensing the shift. Alex's eyes narrowed. "What happened out there? You look like you saw a ghost."

"Talked," Ethan managed. "He... opened up more. About being scared then. Into me. Still is. Therapy. No pressure."

Mia's jaw dropped. "He said all that on the balcony?"

Ethan nodded numbly. "Then he left. Respectful. But it... hit different."

Jordan placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You okay?"

"No," Ethan admitted. "Heart won't stop racing. Feels like everything's colliding."

The party continued around them—music thumping, lights flashing, laughter echoing—but Ethan moved through it like a shadow. Caleb didn't approach again. He stayed on the periphery, helping with cleanup when the drunk freshman incident wrapped, then quietly slipping out early.

Ethan watched him go from across the room.

Friends insisted on walking him back to the dorm. "No solo walks tonight," Alex declared. "Bodyguard squad activated."

In the dorm, they piled onto beds with leftover snacks. Mia poured the last of the wine. "Okay, real talk. What now?"

Ethan stared at his hands. "I don't know. He didn't push. Didn't ask for anything. Just... told the truth. Again."

Jordan spoke softly. "Sounds like he's doing the work. Accountability without entitlement."

"But it's confusing," Ethan said. "Part of me wants to believe him. The other part remembers the humiliation. The laughter. The way I felt small for months."

Alex leaned in. "That's valid. Trauma doesn't vanish because someone's sorry now. Even if the sorry is real."

Mia nodded. "And attraction doesn't care about trauma. It's messy. You're allowed to feel both."

They talked late—strategies, boundaries, worst-case scenarios. When they finally left, Ethan was alone with the silence.

He tried to sleep. Failed.

Tossed for hours. Dreams came fragmented: balcony turning to graduation party, stars above, Caleb's voice whispering "I'm sorry" over and over, hands reaching but never quite touching. Woke sweating, heart pounding.

Journaled in the dark, phone light harsh.

Sleepless. Balcony words echo. Truth hurts and heals at once. He admitted everything—fear, feelings, change. No demands. Respectful exit. But pull stronger. Succulent. Terrifying. Want to hate him. Can't. Want to believe him. Scared to. Heart races like it's trying to escape my chest. Tomorrow project meeting. Alone again? Or do I finally crack?

Morning came gray. Classes blurred. Therapy slot that afternoon—Dr. Ramirez listened to the balcony recounting.

"Significant disclosure," she said. "Vulnerability from him. How did your body respond?"

"Racing heart. Heat. Want." Ethan rubbed his face. "But fear stronger. Waiting for the other shoe."

"Classic push-pull," she noted. "Desire and self-protection in conflict. Prepare for meeting. Have exit phrases. Aftercare plan."

Ethan left with tools but no calm.

Project meeting that evening—library again. Sarah and Malik both present this time. Buffer.

But Caleb arrived early, eyes tired but steady. "Rough night?"

Ethan stiffened. "Fine."

Work began. Outline polished. Presentation slides assigned.

Under table, accidental foot touch again. Both froze.

Caleb pulled back first. "Sorry."

Ethan's pulse spiked.

Meeting wrapped efficiently. Others packed, chatting.

Caleb lingered as Ethan zipped his bag.

"Last night..." Caleb started quietly.

"Project only," Ethan cut in, voice sharp.

Caleb nodded. "Right. Sorry."

He turned to leave.

Then twist.

Sarah, gathering papers, dropped a bombshell casually. "Oh, forgot—professor emailed. Wants mid-term progress report. Needs individual reflections on group dynamics. Due Friday. We each write privately about collaboration, strengths, challenges."

Ethan froze.

Individual reflections.

Private.

To the professor.

About Caleb.

Caleb's eyes met his—surprise, then understanding.

No escape now.

Truths would be written.

Assessed.

Shared indirectly.

Ethan's stomach knotted.

Caleb spoke softly as others left. "I'll be honest in mine. About respect. Space. Effort."

Ethan swallowed. "So will I."

Caleb nodded. "See you Wednesday."

He left.

Ethan sat alone in the library, heart racing again.

Reflection due.

Words on paper.

No filters.

No buffers.

Everything would surface.

Cliffhanger sharp: what would Ethan write?

Forgiveness? Anger? Desire?

Truths unavoidable.

Sleepless nights ahead.

Stronger than ever.

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