Fractured Bones

I move with quiet precision, stepping into the kitchen as if I can blend into the background. The scent of fresh coffee lingers in the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of something sweet—probably whatever Isabella has decided to fuss over this morning. She hums softly, swaying slightly as she moves between the stove and the counter, completely absorbed in her task.

Dad is seated at the dining table, his posture rigid as he flips through a magazine. The way he’s holding it—like it’s more for show than actual interest—tells me he’s been waiting for me. But it’s Oliver, sitting at the far end of the table, who makes my breath hitch. He’s hunched slightly, scrolling through his phone, seemingly detached from the world around him.

I want to believe that they are unaware of me, that I can slip out unnoticed, but the second my fingers brush the doorknob, Isabella’s voice cuts through the illusion.

“Jude?”

I wince, turning just enough to meet her curious gaze. “What’s up?”

She wipes her hands on a dish towel, eyeing me carefully. “Come to lunch with us today. It would be nice if we all had lunch together for the first time.”

Dad doesn’t look up from his magazine, but I can feel the weight of his expectation pressing down on me. And Oliver—he doesn’t even react, doesn’t even glance in my direction, as if I don’t exist at all.

I force an apologetic smile. “I can’t. I’m late.”

Isabella’s face falls slightly, disappointment flashing in her eyes, but she recovers quickly. “Alright, another time then?”

I nod, pushing down the guilt. “Yeah. Another time.”

And before anyone can say anything else, I slip out the door, letting it close behind me with a quiet click.

---

The city air is crisp against my skin, contrasting with the warmth of the house. My feet move on instinct, carrying me through the streets while my mind wrestles with the weight of too many questions.

Right now, no one in the world unsettles me more than Isabella. There's something in her demeanor—something just beneath the surface—that I can't quite put my finger on.

Every time she speaks, it feels like she's coating me in a sickly-sweet scent of lies and hypocrisy. Like she’s trying to weave herself into our lives, forcing a place where she doesn’t belong, but why? I wonder where my father could have found her and by what magic She convinced him to let her and her son move in with us.

The thought gnaws at me as I make my way toward campus, the crisp morning air doing little to clear the bitterness from my head. The university isn’t far from home, just a handful of blocks, but I keep my pace brisk.

The streets are already busy, students heading in every direction, some rushing, some dragging their feet like the day’s already too long. I shove my hands deep into my pockets, head down, trying to block it all out.

That’s when I spot him.

Jace.

He’s moving toward the same building as me, earbuds in, nodding slightly to whatever beat is pounding through them. He notices me at the last second, pulling one out. “Hey, man. You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, falling into step beside him.

Jace smirks, but it fades when I don’t follow up with a joke like usual. He studies me for a second. “You good?”

I hesitate, the weight of the question landing heavier than expected. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just—” I glance around, expecting to see another familiar face. “Where’s Lea?”

Jace scratches the back of his neck. “She’s not coming. Said she’s feeling a little off today.”

The news sinks in, leaving the morning a little colder than before. I stop in my tracks, turn to face him, and level my gaze. “Don’t screw with me, Jace. Who the hell was the guy I left the pub with? What did he look like?”

Jace frowns, taken aback. “What the hell, Jude? You seriously don’t remember?”

I school my expression, forcing it to be neutral. “Just curious.”

He gives me a look, like he’s not buying it, but humors me anyway. “Tall, dark hair. Looked kinda familiar, but I didn’t get a good look.”

I swallow hard. “That’s it?”

Jace shrugs. “Pretty much. You acted like you knew him.” He pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why? Something go down with him that night?”

I shake my head, forcing a hollow laugh. “Come on, you know how drunk I was. Sure, I blacked out parts of it. But not enough to forget someone entirely. Not something like that.” I wave a hand, brushing it off. q it.”

Jace gives me a look—one that says he doesn’t buy it—but he doesn’t press. “Alright. Whatever you say.”

Anyway, I can’t push him more. He already said sorry for letting me leave with some stranger, and the way he described the guy... it fits Oliver.

But what I can’t say out loud is the part that really eats at me.

That I think something happened. Something bad.

That every morning I wake up feeling like my own skin doesn’t fit right.

We walk in silence for a while. My thoughts keep circling that night, chewing through fragments that refuse to fit. No answers. Just dread in a different shape.

Then Jace glances sideways at me. “If you ask me? You should let that night die. Focus on something else.”

I arch a brow. “Like what?”

He hesitates. “I heard people saying Zane dumped you. Not the other way around.”

I stop walking. “What?”

Jace nods, grim. “Yeah. Word's spreading fast around campus. People are saying you’re spiraling or whatever. That he left you for some new guy. If it keeps going like this, everyone’s gonna be talking about it by lunch.”

My jaw tightens. Classic Zane. Spoiled, rotten bastard since childhood, and above all, popular . Boss’s kid, always used to getting his way. He hates losing control. It was never about love with him—just ownership. And now that I’ve walked away?

Of course he couldn’t let it end that easily.

“It’s him,” I mutter. “He’s behind this. Starting rumors to put pressure on me. To force me to deny it—or just crawl back to him.”

Yet, that was never the question in our early days.

Zane had a reputation long before I ever really knew him—loud, cocky, and impossible to ignore. The kind of guy who turned heads the moment he stepped into a room. Captain of the university football team, always surrounded by people who either wanted to be him or be with him. But underneath the cheers and charm was a sharper edge: he mocked what he didn’t understand, picked fights just to feel powerful, and had a way of making people bend to his will without ever raising his voice. A troublemaker with a spotlight on him, the textbook definition of someone I should have avoided.

And yet… he knew how to be soft.

When it was just the two of us—no crowd, no performance—Zane could be gentle in a way that felt disarming. He’d trace his fingers along my jaw like I was something fragile. He’d remember things I said in passing and bring them up days later like they mattered. In those moments, he wasn't the arrogant star player everyone warned me about. He was just a boy who wanted to be loved and wasn’t sure how to ask for it.

That’s the version of him I fell for.

The one who swore he couldn’t fall asleep without telling me goodnight. The one who, for a moment, made me believe I actually mattered.

Jace watches me, head tilted slightly. “So... what’re you gonna do?”

I draw in a slow breath, steadying the fire building in

my chest. “I don’t know yet,” I say, eyes locked forward. My jaw sets. “But I will. One way or another.”