บททั้งหมดของ Love Wasn’t Part Of The Plan: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

The next day felt like walking through fog. Everything looked normal, but nothing felt the same.The sky was pale, the kind that promised rain but never followed through, and the school courtyard buzzed with the same chatter. But every voice, every sound, seemed distant — like I was listening from underwater.Zoe met me at my locker, holding two coffees and wearing the kind of expression that said she’d been worried all night.“You look like someone hit you with an emotional truck,” she said, handing me a cup.“Feels accurate,” I muttered.“You told him?”I nodded, staring at the floor. “Everything.”“And?”I took a shaky breath. “He walked away.”Zoe sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. “God, Ivy.”“I know.” My voice cracked. “But I had to. I couldn’t keep it from him anymore.”She looked at me for a long moment, her tone softer. “You did the right thing. It just… sucks that the right thing hurts this much.”I forced a weak smile. “Story of my life.”Before she could reply, the

And I saw her.Chloe stood a few steps from the stage, framed by the glow of the exit light, eyes wide and wild. Her makeup was still perfect, her hair curled just right, but everything else about her looked wrecked — the tremor in her hand, the way her breath caught like she’d just run miles.The bouquet in my hand slipped to the floor, petals scattering across the stage. No one moved. Not Adrian, not me. The entire world felt like it had been paused between heartbeats.“So this is it,” Chloe said finally, her voice sharp enough to cut through the air. “This is what’s been going on?”Her tone wasn’t loud — but it didn’t need to be. Every word carried the weight of something ready to break.Adrian stepped forward slowly, his expression flickering between guilt and shock. “Chloe—”“Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t say my name like you care.”Her eyes darted to me, cold and glassy. “You know, Ivy, I used to think you were different. Sweet. Quiet. Harmless.” She laughed then, a broken sound t

The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy. I hadn’t turned on the lights since I got home. The phone still lay beside me on the bed, the screen dim now, but I didn’t need to look at it to remember the message.Adrian: Can we talk? I’ll text you the address.I’d been staring at that text for almost an hour, fingers hovering over the screen, typing and deleting replies that didn’t feel right. Every version of I can’t sounded like a lie. Because deep down, I didn’t know if I really couldn’t… or if I just didn’t want to admit that I wanted to.I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. The events of the last twenty-four hours played on a loop — Chloe’s tears, Asher’s voice breaking, the look in Adrian’s eyes before he walked away. Every memory stung, each one bruising a part of me I hadn’t realized was already cracked.The sound of a knock made me jolt, but it was just Zoe’s text.Zoe: You okay? I saw Asher leave the lot earlier. He looked pissed.I exhaled shakily before

The morning light felt too harsh when it slipped through my curtains, slicing through the quiet of my room. I hadn’t really slept. My mind wouldn’t stop replaying that address, those words written in blue ink that now felt like a curse — 17 Elmhurst Drive.I turned over, burying my face into the pillow, trying to convince myself I was wrong. There had to be another Elmhurst Drive. Maybe it wasn’t the same one. Maybe there was another family with ivy-covered walls and black iron gates. Anything but his.But no matter how many times I tried to lie to myself, the truth stayed heavy in my chest. I was supposed to start a new job — and it was in Adrian’s house.When I finally dragged myself out of bed, my mom was already in the kitchen. She stood by the counter, apron on, her hair tied up, humming faintly as she poured coffee into two chipped mugs. The smell filled the air, comforting but bittersweet.“Morning,” she said softly when she saw me. “You’re up early.”“Yeah,” I murmured, pullin

Someone's voice wasn’t the first thing I heard when I came back. It was the sound — the muffled splash, the rush of water, then hands grabbing me, rough and desperate. A blur of warmth in the freezing pool. I wasn’t conscious enough to understand it at first — I just felt my body being pulled upward, air hitting my face, a hoarse voice shouting my name.“Ivy! Ivy, open your eyes — come on!”The world spun as I was lifted from the water. My back hit the cold tiles, and my head rolled to the side. I coughed weakly, a tiny gasp that didn’t reach my lungs.Then his voice again, breaking, raw.“Please. Don’t do this to me.”His hands pressed against my chest. One, two, three — steady, desperate beats.“Breathe. Please, Ivy, breathe.”Nothing.Warm air filled my mouth, forcing life back into me. Once, twice. Then again.My chest convulsed, water spilling from my lips. I gasped, choking, air scraping down my throat like fire. My vision blurred — light, shadows, movement.“Asher…” The word ra