All Chapters of Never Mine To Love: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Noah's Pov.The moment River walked out that door, it felt like everything in me went quiet.Like someone had turned off the sound in the world. No footsteps. No heartbeat. Just silence.I didn’t move for a while. Couldn’t. I stood there in the middle of the room, still shirtless, the cold air brushing against my skin but not waking me up from whatever this was. It didn’t feel real. Or maybe it felt too real. Too raw.The blanket was still on the floor where it fell. His warmth was still trapped in it. I almost reached for it, like maybe if I picked it up, I could pretend he was still here. But my hands didn’t move. My chest just rose and fell like I’d run five miles with nothing chasing me but my own thoughts.River was gone.And I had no idea if he was coming back.I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on my knees. I rubbed my hands through my hair, over and over again, like maybe I could scrub away the night. Or make sense of it.But I remembered it.I remembered

Stalker's Pov.River sits in the middle of the field, alone.His knees are pulled up, arms resting on them, head tilted slightly like he's trying to listen to something inside himself. But there’s nothing out here. Just silence. The kind that makes people think too much. The kind that makes people fall apart.I’m close enough to see the tension in his shoulders. The way he keeps glancing down, like there’s something on the ground worth staring at. But there’s nothing. Not really. Just grass and dirt and that hollow look in his eyes.He doesn’t know I’m here.He never does.That’s the beautiful part.People always think you have to be invisible to go unnoticed. Like you have to hide, or dress in black, or creep around like a ghost. But that’s not true. You just have to look like you belong.Smile when they expect you to.Nod at the right moments.Laugh when everyone else does—even if your stomach twists while doing it.That’s how you blend in.That’s how you disappear in plain sight.A

Daniel's Pov.The scent of strong black coffee lingered in the air as I sat in the university faculty lounge, flipping through student submissions with only half of my mind present. My reading glasses sat crooked on the bridge of my nose, and a dull ache throbbed right behind my eyes. I tried to focus on the essays, but they blurred together. Every time I blinked, I could see River’s face—not a clear image, just flashes of expression. His eyes, his laughter, the way his lips twitched when he was trying not to smile. And then Olivia’s voice, sharp and clear, cutting through everything: “Daniel and I are getting back together.”My stomach clenched. Even now, it still hit me like a sudden drop. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about Olivia. We had shared so many things—Elliot, a home, years of history. But that was just it. It felt like history. The way things fell apart between us wasn’t because we stopped loving each other. It was the lies. The quiet disappointments. The way guilt piled up

River’s POVI woke up in a bed that wasn’t mine. The blanket smelled like lavender and clean laundry. The pillow was softer than what I was used to. For a second, I didn’t know where I was. Then I saw the small wooden dresser across the room, the old lamp with a yellow shade, and the flower curtains. It hit me—I was at Aunt Lydia’s house.I sat up slowly. The room was quiet, peaceful even. Light came through the window, soft and golden, casting warm lines across the floor. There was a photo on the nightstand of Aunt Lydia and me from years ago. I looked young in it—smiling, hopeful. It almost felt like I was looking at someone else.I swung my legs off the bed and sat there for a moment, my feet resting on the small rug. I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. My chest felt tight. Not from bad sleep, not from being in a new place, but from everything building up inside me these past few days.Noah.Daniel.Elliot.Olivia.Their names stayed in my head like a song I couldn’t turn off.

River's POVI didn't hear the washing machine beep. I just sat there on the floor, knees pulled up to my chest, staring at my phone like it might suddenly explain everything.The screen was dark now. Just my own faint reflection looking back tired eyes, messy hair, and that faraway look I didn’t even know I had until lately. I turned the phone over in my hand, fingertips grazing the smooth edge. I knew nothing else would come through, but still... I waited.He liked me.Ezra. From my art class.It felt strange, thinking of him like that. Not just as the guy who always smelled like mint gum and charcoal pencils. Not just the one who leaned too close when showing me his sketchbook, or who laughed under his breath when I smudged my shading. We’d talked before. Shared inside jokes about the art teacher’s obsession with contour lines. But it always felt casual. Light. Easy.Not like this.I sat on the edge of Aunt Lydia’s old couch, the soft cushion sinking under my weight. A pile of laund