Chapter Nineteen

After swiping the answer button, I don’t even know what I’m expecting.

My hand is clamped so tight around my phone it’s shaking.

I don’t know why I answered—not really.

Maybe because a stupid, pathetic part of me still loves Asher.

Three years together… three years that were beautiful and perfect until they weren’t.

“Catherine…” he slurs, voice thick and blurred. “You picked up.”

He’s drunk. Completely drunk.

“What do you want, Asher?” I ask, breathing hard.

“I’m at the edge of the rooftop,” he says with a sloppy laugh, “with a glass of vodka… dancing to Taylor Swift.”

My throat closes.

Tears blur my vision instantly.

The rooftop.

Willow rooftop.

The same place I surprised him with a date—the same place he told me he loved me in the snow.

“Asher,” I whisper, voice breaking. “What do you want? Why are you calling me? Are you coming back now because Jennifer is gone? Or because—”

“Because I want to tell you the truth.”

My breath catches. “What truth?”

There’s a pause. Then:

“Jennifer was blackmailing me.”

My throat goes dry.

Blackmailing him.

Blackmailing him.

I open my mouth, ready to say something—anything—but nothing comes out. Not a single word. Just a shaky breath and tears spilling down my face like my body is speaking for me.

I should end the call.

He sounds ridiculous.

He sounds pathetic.

But my fingers won’t move, and my heart… my stupid heart won’t let go.

“Catherine, are you there?” he slurs, desperate. “I love what we had! It was beautiful and real but I was scared! She told me either I date her or she’d get me benched because of my grades, and I wouldn’t get scouted during the last few matches.”

I squeeze my eyes shut.

That was his dream.

His entire life revolved around football.

He knew it, I knew it.

“But…” My voice breaks into pieces. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Asher—”

“You know how much I love football,” he continues, voice cracking. “Apart from it, I don’t know if there’s anything else out here for me.”

“So you decided to lie to me,” I whisper, barely breathing. “You decided to break me instead.”

“I was embarrassed,” he says quietly. “And jealous.”

I let out a tiny, shaking laugh. Jealous?

I wipe my cheeks roughly. “Of what?”

“You were changing,” he murmurs. “Improving your life… while I stayed the same. And I thought one day you’d look at me and realize I wasn’t enough.”

A sound escapes me—half sob, half disbelief.

"That's not true."

“That's how I felt,” he chokes. “I just… I didn’t want you to look at me like I was weak.”

I stare at the night sky, my chest splitting apart, breath trembling.

"I love Catherine Young. I will always love you—but I made a mistake. Please… come to me. I’m on the Willow rooftop, waiting for you."

"I’m not coming," I whisper, ending the call. I wipe my face, blinking away the tears. Does he think I’m some weak, pathetic girl who clings to her ex…?

"Catherine, are you okay?" Dominic’s voice cuts behind me.

I wipe my face again before turning. "I’m fine… just a headache."

"Catherine…"

"Let’s talk tomorrow, Dominic. Please. I just… need to get home," I say, letting out a shaky breath. Sasha rolls her eyes as she steps beside him.

I turn and leave. A cold knot settles in my chest. Glancing back, I see Dominic still staring—confusion and disappointment written across his face. I look forward again, forcing my steps to match the fading music.

The moment a cab slows beside me, I yank the door open and slide inside, breath trembling. Tears keep spilling no matter how hard I blink them back.

"Where to, ma?" the driver asks.

My lips part, ready to say home, to end this night and crawl into my bed… but the word refuses to come out. Instead, something inside me cracks.

"Willow Hotel," I whisper.

Just saying it breaks me completely.

The cab pulls away, engine humming as we head in the opposite direction of my house. I force myself to turn, to glance through the back window—because I know he’s still there.

Dominic.

Standing where I left him.

Watching.

Realizing I’m not going home.

And still, I keep going.

Minutes later, the cab rolls to a stop in front of the Willow Hotel. I step out, staring up at the massive building glowing against the night sky. My legs feel like they’re moving on their own as I pay the cab driver and walk toward the entrance.

Inside, the lobby is warm and bright—too bright for how hollow I feel. I force myself toward the front desk.

“Hi,” I manage.

“Hey,” the receptionist replies with a polite smile. “Do you have a reservation, or would you like to make one?”

“I’m here to see… uh… Asher Davies. He’s expecting me.”

She nods and starts typing.

My foot taps against the marble floor. I look anywhere but at her—at the chandelier, the glossy tiles, the tall plants—anything to distract myself from the pounding in my chest.

“Alright,” she says softly, “he did make a reservation and he listed one expected guest. May I have your name?”

I swallow hard and lift my gaze.

“Catherine Young.”

She offers another nod. “I’ll have someone escort you—”

“No need,” I cut in quickly, forcing a tight smile. “I’ve been here before.”

Before she can say anything else, I turn and hurry towards the elevator. The moment the doors slide shut behind me, a shaky breath escapes my lips.

I press the button for the very last floor.

And as the elevator begins its slow climb, all I can hear is the echo of my heartbeat—loud, uneven, terrified.

And Dominic’s voice keeps replaying in my head, echoing against the elevator walls:

“End the call, turn off your phone.”

“I’m asking you not to answer him. Please.”

I whisper the words under my breath, like they’re stuck to my lungs. Every part of me feels twisted—confused, guilty, torn in half. Maybe there’s something safe with Dominic, something real and steady… but that doesn’t erase the truth.

He’s Catherine’s nerdy younger brother, right?

He’s just safe because Asher shattered something in me.

He’s just the one who didn’t leave.

The elevator dings, snapping me out of it.

Top floor.

The doors slide open and a long corridor stretches ahead—silent, dim, suffocating. My fingers tremble as I curl them around my phone. All I have to do is walk to the very end, push open the stairwell door, and take the steps that lead to the rooftop.

So I walk to the end of the corridor, heart throbbing in my throat, and push open the stairwell door. The metal groans. A few steps up, another door waits—one last barrier. I shove it open and step onto the rooftop.

The first thing I see are the candles—tiny flames dancing in the wind—surrounded by two chairs facing the city.

A setup.

A memory reborn.

Asher stands by the railing, hands in his pockets. The second my foot hits the concrete, he whips around. His whole face lights up as he rushes toward me.

I step back instinctively. “Hey.”

“God—shoot—I didn’t think you’d actually come.” He grins, breathless. He doesn’t look drunk at all.

“I thought you were drunk,” I say quietly. The wind is sharper up here, cutting through my dress. I rub my elbows. “You… lied. You made it sound like you were—”

“I panicked, okay?” he cuts in, voice softening. “Catherine, please. I love you. I always will. We’ve been together for three years—three years. Why let all of that just… go to waste?” He moves a step closer. “I’m human. I messed up. But what we had? That was real.”

My voice wavers. “But you cheated.”

“I was blackmailed,” he insists, eyes wide, pleading. “I broke under pressure and I hate myself for it. Just—give me one more chance. I swear on my life I will never break your trust again.”

Right.

Forgive him.

Pretend it never happened.

“Let’s eat, Catherine.”

Asher pulls out a chair for me, the perfect gentleman he’s always known how to pretend to be.

I smile faintly and take my seat. The dishes are beautiful—pasta, grilled chicken, the salad he knows I like. But as I stare at the plate, another image flashes instead:

Dominic in my kitchen.

Hair falling over his face while he stirred the pot.

That soft, quiet focus he gets when he’s trying to follow a recipe.

The way he looks when he sleeps—like the world has never touched him.

Those glasses that somehow suit him too perfectly…

“Don’t you like the food?” Asher’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “These are all your favorites.”

I blink and force a smile. “I love it.”

He nods, already chewing, food smearing the corner of his mouth. I scoop a little pasta onto my plate, but my stomach feels tight—like it’s full even though I haven’t eaten.

Asher swallows and wipes his lips. “So, I was thinking about how you’re going to break things off with Dominic.”

My hand stops mid-air. Cold slides down my spine. I never thought about what came after.

Asher continues, completely unfazed. “Maybe after assembly tomorrow, yeah? We could have all the students stay back after the committee announcement. And once the staff leaves, you can tell everyone you only dated Dominic to make me jealous.” He laughs, loud and ugly. “And it worked, because now we’re back together.”

The fork slips slightly from my grip.

He keeps laughing. “I can’t wait to see the look on that nerd’s face when he hears it.”

Nerd.

That nerd.

The same boy who believed in me.

Who looked at me like I mattered.

Who didn’t kiss Sasha.

Who asked me—begged me—not to answer Asher’s call.

“Right,” I whisper.

But the word tastes like metal in my mouth.