The Twin I Was Supposed to Love

I told myself I was overthinking it.

That was the easiest explanation for everything.

Ashton Carter wasn’t important. He was just Adrian’s twin brother—an extra detail in a life that already felt full. A coincidence. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what I kept repeating on the walk back home from Adrian’s house.

But somehow, my mind refused to listen.

The next morning, I woke up to a message from Adrian.

Adrian: Morning, beautiful. I’ll pick you up after your lecture.

I smiled before I even realized it.

Me: Don’t skip breakfast again.

Adrian: Only if you promise to stop worrying about me.

He always did that turn serious concerns into something light. It was one of the reasons I liked him. He made life feel easy.

Or at least easier than it used to be.

I got ready for school with music playing softly in the background, trying to shake off the memory of Ashton’s eyes. There was no reason for me to think about him. None at all.

By the time I stepped onto campus, Adrian was already there, leaning against his car like he owned the place.

Of course he did attract attention instantly.

Girls whispered. Some stared openly. A few pretended not to look, which only made it worse.

But Adrian only had eyes for me.

“Hey,” he said, pulling me into a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Hey,” I replied, adjusting my bag strap.

“You look tired.”

“I didn’t sleep well.”

“Thinking about me?”

“Thinking about your ego.”

He laughed, opening the passenger door for me.

“Same thing.”

I shook my head as I got in. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told worse.”

The ride to campus was normal music, teasing, his hand occasionally brushing mine while I talked about assignments I hadn’t finished.

Everything felt familiar.

Comfortable.

Safe.

Exactly how it was supposed to be.

So why did it feel like something was slightly out of place?

Like a picture hung a little too crooked on the wall.

We were halfway across campus when I noticed it.

Whispers.

Not the usual ones that followed Adrian.

These were different.

More focused.

More confused.

People weren’t just looking at him today.

They were looking at us.

Or more specifically past us.

I followed their gaze without thinking.

And my stomach dropped.

Ashton was standing near the library entrance.

Same posture as yesterday. Same quiet intensity. Same unreadable expression.

But today, he wasn’t alone.

A group of students surrounded him, asking questions, laughing too loudly at things he didn’t seem interested in.

He responded minimally, hands in his pockets, like he was just waiting for time to pass.

“Don’t tell me he’s already ruining my morning,” Adrian muttered beside me.

“He didn’t even do anything,” I said automatically.

That surprised even me.

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You’re defending him now?”

“I’m not defending him. I’m just saying he’s not doing anything.”

“That’s because he never does anything. That’s his whole personality.”

I frowned slightly.

Ashton didn’t look like someone who “did nothing.” He looked like someone who noticed everything and chose not to care.

There was a difference.

A big one.

Adrian kissed my cheek. “Come on, let’s go before he starts acting weird.”

But my feet didn’t move immediately.

Because Ashton’s eyes shifted.

And for a brief second, they landed directly on me.

Not the crowd.

Not Adrian.

Just me.

It was quick. Controlled. Almost accidental.

But it still made something tighten in my chest.

Then he looked away again.

Like I had never mattered in the first place.

By the time classes ended, I had successfully convinced myself to forget about him.

Almost.

Adrian was waiting outside my building, scrolling through his phone.

“You’re late,” he said.

“Your definition of late is very dramatic.”

“My girlfriend being one minute away from me is a crisis.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling.

We walked toward his car together.

That’s when I saw him again.

Ashton was leaning against a bike near the parking lot, speaking quietly to someone I didn’t recognize. His tone was calm, controlled nothing like Adrian’s expressive energy.

He ended the conversation quickly and turned.

And again our eyes met.

This time, it lasted longer.

Not enough to be obvious.

But enough to feel intentional.

My breath caught slightly.

Then Adrian waved a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Ava.”

I blinked. “Sorry.”

“You’ve been distracted all day.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Or you’re thinking about something else.”

His tone wasn’t serious, but something in it lingered.

I forced a smile. “Nothing important.”

“Good,” he said, opening the car door for me again. “Because I’ve got plans for us this weekend.”

“What kind of plans?”

He grinned. “Surprise plans.”

That should’ve excited me.

It usually did.

But my thoughts weren’t fully in the car anymore.

They were still somewhere behind us.

Where Ashton stood silently, watching nothing in particular.

Later that evening, I found myself walking alone back from the campus café.

Adrian had training. I had promised to wait for him at his place later.

The sky was turning orange, soft light stretching across the pavement.

I was halfway through my thoughts when I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned.

Ashton.

Of course.

He slowed his pace slightly but didn’t stop.

“Do you always follow people around?” I asked before I could stop myself.

That made him pause.

A faint expression crossed his face almost amusement.

“I was here first,” he replied.

Fair point.

I adjusted my grip on my cup. “Right. Sorry.”

Silence stretched between us.

Uncomfortable, but not exactly hostile.

Just… unfamiliar.

“You don’t talk much,” I said after a moment.

“You’ve noticed that already?”

“I notice things.”

That made him glance at me properly.

This time, it felt like he was actually looking not just seeing.

“What do you notice about him?” he asked.

The question caught me off guard.

“Adrian?”

“Yes.”

I hesitated. “He’s… kind. Funny. Loud. Everyone likes him.”

Ashton nodded slowly, like he was evaluating my answer.

“And you?” I added carefully.

“What about me?”

I shrugged. “You’re… quieter.”

“That’s one word for it.”

We walked a few steps in silence again.

Then he spoke.

“People usually prefer Adrian.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was a statement.

I frowned slightly. “You say that like it’s a rule.”

“It usually is.”

Something about his tone made me uncomfortable not because he was bitter, but because he wasn’t.

Like he had already accepted it long ago.

“I don’t think it’s a rule,” I said quietly.

That made him stop walking.

I did too.

For a moment, the world around us felt distant.

“Interesting,” he said.

That was all.

No explanation.

No emotion.

Just that one word.

Then he continued walking as if nothing had happened.

And I stood there for a second longer than I should have.

Because for reasons I couldn’t understand

I suddenly felt like I had said something important.