Emily's POV.
My heart hammered in my chest as I watched Cole laugh. It wasn't a light chuckle or a half-hearted grin. No, this was the kind of laugh that made you feel like something deep inside you was being crushed into dust. His friends started laughing too, the sound of their mocking, high-pitched giggles echoing through the hallway. And then, even a few students nearby joined in. I could feel my face burn, my pulse pounding in my ears. I stood there, frozen, helpless, every ounce of courage I had drained in an instant. “Are you serious?” Cole asked, wiping tears from his eyes as he took a step toward me. He looked me up and down with the kind of scrutiny that made me want to crawl into a hole and hide forever. “You think you can just... tell me you like me? You think I’m going to be interested in some girl like you?” His voice was dripping with venom, each word cutting deeper than the last. I felt smaller and smaller, like the floor was swallowing me whole. He poked at my head with a finger, like I was some kind of mannequin…his lips curled into a twisted grin. “You like me?” he repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "Seriously. Have you even seen yourself?" He gestured toward me, his expression now pure disgust. "What, because I gave you an umbrella once, you think I’m your ticket to... what? Happiness? You’re dreaming." The laughter grew louder. His friends were practically howling now, their mockery making my skin crawl. I wanted to shrink away, disappear. But I couldn’t move. My legs were stiff, my chest heavy with shame. “You really think I’d ever go for someone like you?” Cole sneered, his voice suddenly turning bitter and cruel, like I was nothing but a joke. “You’re nothing. Just some girl who’s obsessed with me because I was nice enough to give you my umbrella. That’s the best you got, huh? A damn umbrella?” He threw his hands up as if my feelings were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. “Get a grip, Emily. We’re not even on the same track. You’re nowhere near my league. I’m the guy everyone wants, and you—” He stopped, looking me up and down again, shaking his head like he couldn’t even comprehend how I could’ve thought this was a good idea. “You? You’re a joke. A loser.” I could feel the sting of his words, each one like a slap to my face. My vision blurred, and I blinked furiously to fight the tears that were threatening to spill. "You're pathetic, you know that?" His words sliced through the air. "You think because I’ve smiled at you a couple of times, that means anything? You think I care? I don’t even remember your name half the time." His eyes narrowed as he let the words sink in, watching me flinch with each cruel jab. His friends were still laughing, egging him on. "Damn, Cole, you’re gonna break her heart!" one of them said, slapping him on the back like this was all some kind of twisted game. “You should’ve seen the look on her face when she thought he might like her,” another one added, his voice full of mock sympathy. “Classic move, Cole. She’s got a thing for the golden boy, huh?” I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt like it was caving in, my skin on fire from the humiliation. How could I have been so stupid? So naive to think he would ever see me as anything other than a joke. His words rang in my ears over and over. You’re nothing. A loser. Pathetic. Cole's smirk only deepened as he stepped even closer, his face now inches from mine. I could smell the faint scent of his cologne, mixed with sweat from the game, but all I could focus on was the bitterness in his eyes. "Listen, Emily," he said slowly, like he was explaining something to a child. "You’re never going to be anything more than the girl who hides in the back of the class, the one no one notices until it’s too late. You think you can change that with some lame confession? You’re wasting your time." His tone dripped with disgust. “You want to know the real reason I gave you that umbrella?” He paused for effect, his lips curling into something ugly, something dark. "It’s because I felt sorry for you. That’s it. Nothing more.” The laughter from his friends grew louder, filling my ears until I couldn’t hear anything else. The sound of it crushed me, shattering everything inside me that had once dared to believe maybe, just maybe, he could see me differently. And then, Cole pushed past me without another word, not even sparing me a second glance. His friends followed, still snickering behind him like a pack of hyenas. I stood there, unable to move, feeling like the world had come crashing down on top of me. My hands were shaking, my chest heaving as I fought to keep my emotions from spilling over. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I couldn’t—couldn’t let them see me break, couldn’t let them see how much I was hurting. But the ache in my chest was unbearable, like I’d just been ripped apart by his cruel words. I felt the weight of everything—the laughter, the humiliation, the bitterness—pressing down on me. For the first time, I understood exactly how small I was in the grand scheme of things. Cole Grayson didn’t even see me. He didn’t care. And I was foolish for ever thinking that I could change that. “Pathetic,” I whispered to myself, repeating his words like a mantra. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t stand to be in the same space anymore. I turned on my heel and hurried down the hallway, the echoes of their laughter following me like a dark shadow. The tears finally started to fall, but I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care who saw. I didn’t care about anything anymore. Because in that moment, I realized that no matter how much I had liked him, no matter how badly I had wanted him to notice me, I was nothing to him. Just a girl with glasses, nothing more. And as much as I hated it, I knew he was right—I would always be nothing.Smith's POV. I didn’t want to come here.I had been putting it off for months. Every time Stevie-lou brought it up, I changed the topic or acted like my phone rang. She never pushed. She just looked at me with those calm eyes, nodded, and said, "Okay. When you're ready."But the truth was, I wasn’t sure I'd ever be ready.Now I was standing on a patch of grass, next to a headstone with the name Raymond Parker carved into it.1969 - 2025.It was a nice headstone. Clean with black granite with gold lettering. There were fresh flowers by the side. A little wooden frame with a picture of him smiling at what looked like a birthday party.I remember that face. That was the same man who came to my office looking like life had chewed him up and spat him back out. He had looked desperate. He had looked broken. He had stood right in front of my desk, holding his cap in his hand like a man holding out hope. And I turned him away like he was nothing.Stevie-lou was kneeling by the grave. Her han
Stevie-lou's POV. I remember the moment they told me I was finally being discharged. Like waking from a long nightmare but still feeling trapped inside it. My legs shook when I tried to stand, and Smith was right there, steady as ever, catching me before I fell.“You don’t have to be a hero today,” he said softly, brushing my hair back from my face. His eyes were tired, but full of something fierce…like he’d been holding it together for both of us.“I just want to go home,” I whispered. My voice cracked, thick with everything I’d been holding in.He nodded and helped me sit up, then carefully hooked my arm around his shoulder as we walked out of the hospital. The quiet buzz of the city outside felt strange, almost like it didn’t belong to me anymore.The ride back to the penthouse was quiet. Smith didn’t say much, just held my hand on the leather seat. I could feel him watching me, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin, like he was trying to remind me I was real, right there besi
Stevie-lou's POV. Everything hurt.That was the first thing I knew when I opened my eyes. A dull, throbbing pain in my shoulder, like someone had shoved a hot poker through it and decided to leave it there. My head was foggy, my mouth dry, and the light in the room was way too bright. I squinted against it, trying to sit up, but my body protested with every tiny movement.And then I heard him."Easy, baby. Don’t move too much."Smith.His voice cut through the haze, and I turned my head slowly to find him sitting beside my bed. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot, his jaw lined with exhaustion and something deeper...something raw. His hand reached out, brushed a few strands of hair from my face."You’re awake," he breathed, almost like he couldn’t believe it.I blinked at him, my vision sharpening. "Hey..."That one word took all the energy I had. My voice was hoarse, barely there, but it made him smile anyway. And God, that smile. Soft. Ti
Smith's POVThe second his finger twitched, I moved.I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t have the luxury to think. There was no logic, no plan, just raw instinct. My body surged forward before my brain could even register the danger. I lunged at Jeremy, both arms extended, grabbing for the barrel of the gun just as the shot rang out.The sound was deafening...sharp and violent. It tore through the air like an explosion, echoing off the walls and rattling in my skull. It was like a bomb had gone off in a confined space. My ears rang instantly, a high-pitched whine setting in as the immediate aftermath of the blast.Stevie-Lou screamed...a sound so piercing, so full of fear, it cut through everything else.Jeremy fought back, struggling like a man possessed, but I had the element of surprise. He wasn’t expecting me to close the distance so fast. His grip on the gun was sloppy, panicked. His hands trembled, his arms flailed wildly. I latched on tighter, wrapped my hands around his wrist and twis
Stevie-lou's POV.I pulled him closer again, like I couldn’t get enough of his touch, his warmth, his presence. My hands trembled as they roamed over his shoulders, down his back. His lips parted under mine, soft and urgent at the same time, like he’d been starving for this too. I kissed him harder, deeper, as if trying to erase all the distance, the hurt, the time we’d lost.I slid my fingers into his hair, tugging gently, wanting him to know I was here, that I was real...no more walls, no more hiding. I wanted him to see me...the real Stevie-lou, not the lying woman who had betrayed and used him. I reached down, pulling at the hem of my shirt, hoping maybe if I stripped away the last layers of myself, he’d feel like this was all true, all ours.But before I could get the shirt over my head, his hand caught my wrist. Firm but gentle, like he didn’t want to scare me off but had to stop me anyway.“Hey,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His eyes were softer than
Stevie-lou's POV.I stared at the door for a long second after it creaked open, like I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing.Smith.Tall, stiff, in that dark coat he always wore when he was working. He looked like he’d come straight from barking orders to a boardroom full of terrified execs. Only now, he was standing in my crappy little doorway, his jaw clenched and his eyes everywhere but on me. Like even being here pissed him off, but not enough to walk away.My hand was still on the doorknob. I didn’t say anything.He didn’t either.Just pushed the door wider and walked in. Like it was his place. Like nothing had changed.Like I hadn’t wrecked him."You changed the locks," he muttered, eyeing the new hardware with a frown.My throat dried up. "Yeah."He didn’t answer. Just kept walking in like he was looking for something to be mad about. His eyes scanned the small, crumbling living room. The faded couch with the sagging cushions. The cracked tile near the kitchen entrance. One