CHAPTER 8: ANDREL POV

I walked away last night.

Her mother called from downstairs, "Mila! Come down for breakfast!" and my whole body reacted before my mind could. I was already sitting at the dining table with a cup of coffee in my hand, pretending to be calm. Pretending like I hadn't spent the whole night thinking about one question.

"Do you still love my mom, or would you ever love me?"

That private question she asked me in the hallway was still ringing in my head. I walked away that night because I had no answer. Not because I didn't love her. God knows I do. But because I have never really sat down to think it through on my own. Do I still love her mother? Or am I trying to heal my past through her daughter?

I was still battling with that when I heard her footsteps on the stairs.

Then she came down.

She was wearing a short and a sleeveless top, her long hair packed up, her glasses sitting perfectly on her face. She looked different today. Beautiful. Confident. Like she wanted to be seen. Like she wanted me to see her differently.

My breath caught for a second. I tried to hide it by taking a sip of my coffee, but it was useless. My eyes softened on their own. Yesterday my eyes were dark and angry after our argument. Today, I couldn't stop staring.

Her father looked up and smiled with so much pride. "My baby, you look beautiful today."

I wanted to say the same thing. I wanted to tell her she looked beautiful. So beautiful it hurts to look. But I couldn't. Not in front of her father. So I just sat there, watching her as she kissed her father on the cheek and sat down.

Opposite me.

She sat directly opposite me at the table, and our eyes met across the plates. For a second, the world stopped. It was just me and her. Her eyes were soft, nervous, searching. Then she quickly looked down at her toast. Her hands were shaking slightly. She was sweating. She was nervous because of me.

That little nervousness made my heart beat faster.

I couldn't hold myself back anymore. Even with her parents right there, I picked up my phone under the table. I typed a message with my heart pounding.

Keep looking down. If you look at me like that again in front of your Dad, I won't be able to stop myself.

I pressed send.

I saw her phone light up on her lap. She glanced down and opened it under the table. I watched her face change. She froze. Her breath caught. I saw her shoulders tense and her cheeks turn red instantly. The whole atmosphere around her changed.

She didn't reply.

She locked her phone, and then slowly, very slowly, she looked up at me from across the table. And she bit her lip.

That one small action nearly destroyed every wall I was trying to build.

My eyes went dark immediately. A shiver ran down my spine. I felt my jaw tighten. My whole body felt tight, like I was holding myself back from doing something I would not be able to take back. In that moment, I didn't feel like her uncle. I didn't feel like a family friend. I felt like a man who was falling deeper and deeper for a woman sitting right in front of him, and he couldn't have her.

That is the worst part. I am falling. Deeper and deeper every day.

Then her mother spoke and broke the silence.

"Mila, how's school? Is that boy from your department still bothering you?"

My heart dropped.

Her father added casually without looking up,"You mean Trex? The boy who keeps calling her?"

Trex.

Just hearing that name, my entire mood changed. The soft look I had for her disappeared. It was replaced by something dark, something jealous. I set my coffee cup down a little too hard on the saucer and it made a sharp clink. Everyone looked up.

"Who's Trex?" I asked. My voice was low. Controlled. But inside, I was burning.

Her mother sighed. "Just some boy from her school. He has a crush on Mila and doesn't know when to quit. He keeps calling her, following her around campus. Mila doesn't like him at all."

Mila stared down at her plate, her cheeks burning red. "Mom, it's nothing. I already told him I'm not interested."

Nothing? She says it's nothing, but hearing another boy's name connected to her made my chest ache with jealousy. I hated it. I hated hearing that someone else was calling her, following her, wanting her.

I looked at her. Intense. Unmoving. I wasn't smiling anymore. I wasn't acting like her uncle anymore. In that moment, I was looking at her like a man who didn't like hearing that another man was chasing what he is starting to want for himself.

Just the name Trex can stir this jealousy in me. It makes me angry. It makes me possessive. It makes me want to claim her as mine so no one else will ever think they have a chance.

I want to claim her as mine. I want the world to know she belongs to me.

But I stayed quiet. I didn't say another word at that breakfast table.

I just kept staring at her, and I knew one thing for sure. I was going to ask her about Trex later. When we were alone. When her parents were not around to interrupt us. When it would be just the two of us, and she would have to answer me.