All Chapters of Love Wasn’t Part Of The Plan: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The air between us pulsed like a live wire. I could hear every beat of my heart, feel every tremor in my fingers where they clutched the edge of the door. Asher stood a few feet away, his jaw clenched, hands flexing at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.“You want me to make you understand?” he said at last, voice low, harsh. “Fine. You don’t play with somebody’s heart like that, Ivy. You don’t pull them into something that intense and then shove them away like they’re nothing.”“I didn’t shove you away,” I whispered. My voice cracked, but I didn’t look away. “I stopped because I wasn’t ready. That’s different.”His eyes burned into mine, dark and full of a pain I hadn’t seen before. “You think it didn’t cost me to stop? You think it was easy to sit there, needing you, and watch you pull back like I disgusted you?”“I didn’t—”“Yes, you did.” His voice rose, echoing off the empty computer desks. “You don’t even see it, do you? I’ve been trying—trying so hard to show yo

The morning sun spilled through the school windows, but it did little to warm the tension I felt as I walked through the crowded hallways. Even with Asher’s reassuring words from last night lingering in my mind, a heaviness settled over me. Adrian. His cryptic apology, the way he said I deserved the truth—it stuck like a thorn I couldn’t pull out.There he was.Adrian.Leaning casually against a locker at the far end of the hallway, his arms crossed, his posture the same confident, untouchable swagger I remembered all too well. His dark eyes swept over the hallway like he owned it, and for one panicked second, I froze mid-step. My chest tightened, and my stomach twisted. Memories I’d tried to shove aside—the splashes of cold water, the whispers in class, the humiliations at work—flared with a sting I hadn’t felt in weeks.I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the strap of my backpack. My pulse hammered in my ears as I tried to convince myself he couldn’t possibly be here. But

My shoes clicked against Adrian’s polished floors, the sound louder than I wanted it to be. Every step felt heavy—not because of my backpack, but because of the tension coiling in my chest. His house smelled faintly of chlorine and leather, a sharp reminder of wealth I’d never truly understand. Expensive furniture, perfect artwork, sparkling surfaces everywhere—it all screamed privilege, and I felt awkward and out of place. Adrian leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching me. “Relax,” he said, voice smooth. “It’s just a project.” I forced a nod, though I knew my pulse betrayed me. My mind darted to school, to the assignment, to the tension still wrapped tightly around my chest from last night. We made our way to the long dining table, where notebooks and papers were already spread out. I sat on the edge, flipping open my notebook, trying to focus. Adrian leaned back in his chair, smirk playing on his lips. “So…” he began casually, but I sensed a sharpness under the

The house was quiet after dinner, almost too quiet. I sat at the table pushing rice around my plate, pretending to eat while the weight of yesterday still lingered in the corners of my mind. Dad cleared his throat, and my spine stiffened.“Ivy,” he said, voice low but steady. “Can you sit in the living room? I want to talk.”The sound of it made my stomach clench. For a second, I thought this was another lecture, another round of rules and sharp words. But when I looked up, there was something different in his eyes—weariness, regret, maybe even guilt.I followed him into the living room, curling into the edge of the sofa while he stayed standing, hands shoved into his pockets. Mom came in too, folding her arms, her cheek still faintly bruised but healing. I instinctively glanced at it, and Dad’s eyes followed my gaze. His jaw tightened.“I shouldn’t have let that happen,” he said suddenly, almost blurting it out. “What happened the other night… it was wrong. I lost my temper, and your

The light hit me the second I stepped inside.I froze in the doorway, heart slamming against my ribs. It wasn’t the soft glow of the hallway lamp or the flicker of the kitchen bulb left on by mistake—it was deliberate. A single lamp in the living room.And my dad sitting right under it.His arms were crossed, his face tight, his eyes cutting through me like knives. “Where have you been, Ivy?”The question was simple, but the weight in it made my throat close.My shoes squeaked against the tile as I shifted nervously. For a moment, I thought about lying—just like before. I could say I’d stayed late working on schoolwork, or that Zoe needed me. But the memory of him catching me in lies before clawed at my chest.My lips parted, but no words came out.The silence stretched until my mom appeared from the hallway, her robe tied loosely around her waist. She looked half-asleep, her hair mussed, but the worry in her eyes was sharp and awake. “What’s going on?” she asked softly, glancing betw