جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 70

Silence.It was the first thing that hit me. That strange, heavy kind of silence where you feel everything at once but hear nothing at all. The chatter at the other tables faded. Even the clinking of glasses and silverware seemed to stop. I swear I could hear my own heartbeat."Daniel and I are getting back together."Her words echoed in my head like someone had yelled them through a tunnel. Over and over, louder each time, until the meaning finally sank in.My eyes stayed locked on the wine glass in front of me. My hand had tightened around the stem before I even realized it. I let go, slowly, afraid I might actually break it.No one said anything right away. For a second, it felt like the whole table had frozen. Aunt Lydia blinked like she wasn’t sure she’d heard it right. My mom gasped, but not in a bad way—more like a tiny, surprised squeak—and then reached across the table to squeeze Olivia’s hand.“Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful news!” she said, a little too brightly, a little

Daniel's Pov.The morning after the dinner at St. Lucie's was strangely quiet.Except From the kitchen, I could hear Olivia humming softly as she made coffee. The sound was light, almost cheerful, like nothing was wrong. The rich smell floated through the house, warm and familiar, wrapping around me like a memory that didn’t quite comfort the way it used to. I stood there, half-listening, half-hoping I was just imagining the tightness in my chest.But I wasn’t.Elliot hadn’t said a single word to me since we got home. Not one.He’d gotten out of the car without looking back, gone straight to his room, and shut the door. At dinner, he’d barely touched his food, only speaking when someone forced the conversation in his direction. Even then, it was like he was chewing on glass just to get the words out. Short. Clipped. Cold.I had tried to meet his eyes more than once, hoping for a sign—any sign—that he was still reachable. That I hadn’t completely lost him. But he wouldn’t look at me.A

River's Pov.The scent of grilled cheese and old coffee wrapped around me the moment we stepped into Old Paul’s. It wasn’t fancy, and the flickering neon sign out front was probably older than both of us, but it was warm inside. Comfortable. The kind of place that didn’t expect anything from you.The bell above the door gave a tired jingle as it shut behind us. Familiar. Safe, in a way that made my chest ache.We slid into a booth by the window, the vinyl seats squeaking under our weight. Noah stretched his legs out like he owned the place, then gave the waitress a small wave as she passed. She nodded back, already heading for the coffee pot, because of course she knew our usuals. She knew his smile, my silence. She didn’t need to ask.Outside, the streetlights flickered against the night, and the windowpane picked up every passing headlight like a soft pulse of distraction. I let myself get caught in it, the world outside this diner moving fast and far away, like maybe if I focused h

River's Pov.I stared at my closet like it had wronged me.It wasn’t a fancy party. Noah had said so himself—“Just a bunch of college kids at my guy Nate’s house,” he’d texted earlier. “You’ll be bored or drunk before midnight.” And yet, here I was, dissecting every article of clothing I owned like I was about to walk a damn runway.Shirt after shirt ended up in a pile on my bed. Some still had folds from the last time I washed them. Others didn’t feel like me anymore. Or maybe they felt too much like me. Like the version of me I didn’t always let show outside this apartment.Too wrinkled. Too boring. Too bright. Too straight.God.Why was I nervous?I ran a hand through my hair and turned toward the small paper bag on my desk. I’d picked it up from a little makeup shop downtown after class—just wandered in and let the shelves do the talking. The clerk had complimented my cheekbones. I’d blushed and bought a palate I wasn’t even sure I knew how to use.Now it sat there, unopened.I he

River's Pov.My head throbbed, sharp and mean, like someone was pounding on the inside of my skull. My mouth felt dry, like I’d been chewing cotton all night. My stomach rolled with something bitter and heavy.I groaned and turned to my side, and stopped cold.He was there.Noah.Lying beside me, bare chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. One arm stretched above his head, the other resting just a few inches from mine. The blanket was barely covering us. I didn’t have to touch him to feel the heat from his skin. It clung to the air between us. His scent, cologne, sweat, something warm and sweet still clung to the sheets.Last night slammed into me.The bathroom. The hallway. The bedroom.His hands on my hips, gripping like he never wanted to let go. His mouth on my neck, his voice low and rough against my skin. The way his body moved against mine like we were made to fit.My heart pounded. My face burned hot.What the hell did I do?I sat up slowly, my head swimming as the