The Art Of Losing You のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

001Mira Chen had never lost anything that mattered.Not a debate. Not a championship. Not a single argument she actually cared about winning. She had trained herself to believe that control was a muscle... flex it enough, and nothing could break you.She was wrong.The door to Ethan's apartment was already unlocked. That should have been her first warning. Ethan was meticulous about locks, rules and being the kind of boyfriend who texted good morning, never... ever forgot an anniversary. He was safe. Predictable. Boring, if she was honest with herself.She wasn't honest with herself. That was the problem.The second warning was Jenna's car parked outside. Mira registered it in the corner of her mind, Jenna said she had a study group, but she was too tired to connect the dots. Nationals had ended four hours ago. She had lost by two points. Two points to a team from Stanford that she had beaten three times before. Her coach had said "unlucky." Her mother had said nothing, which was wor

003 Mira didn't sleep. She lay in her dorm room, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word Sebastian had said. You're not replaceable. You're terrifying. He broke your armor. The worst part was how seen she felt. How exposed. At 6am, she gave up on rest and opened her laptop. The campus gossip page was still dissecting her breakdown. Someone had commented: "Finally, proof she's human." Someone else: "Kessler was there too. Saw them talking after she left Ethan's. What's that about?" Mira closed the laptop. She spent the morning editing debate briefs. The words blurred. Her mind kept drifting to his gray eyes and sharp smile, and the way his hand had felt wrapped around hers. No real feelings. She had said that. She had meant it. So why was she already counting hours until midnight? *** The library at midnight was a different world. Fluorescent lights hummed. The air smelled of old paper and desperation. Mira arrived at 11:47 because she was incapable of being late. She wor

005Neither of them spoke for a full minute.The coffee shop hummed around them, espresso machines, quiet chatter, the scrape of chairs. But at their table, time had stopped. Sebastian's fingers were still touching hers. The piece of muffin was gone. And the word fake hung in the air between them, thin as smoke.Mira pulled her hand back first.She reached for her coffee, took a long sip, used the burn to ground herself. "We should probably leave before someone asks for an interview.""Probably." Sebastian didn't move. He was watching her with an expression she couldn't read, something between curiosity and concern. "You're shaking.""I'm not shaking.""You're shaking." He said it softer this time. Not an accusation, but an observation. "Your hand was trembling when you fed me that muffin."Mira looked down at her hands. Wrapped around the cup. Steady now. But he was right. She had been shaking. Not from fear, but from the weight of what had just happened.He had defended her publicly

007 Mira didn't sleep again. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the way Sebastian's thumb had brushed her lower lip. The way his voice had cracked when he said my father. The way he had looked at her... like she was something precious and terrifying at the same time. He wants to meet you. At 3am, she opened her laptop and searched "Kessler family law firm." The results were worse than she expected. Sebastian's father, Richard Kessler, was a named partner at one of the largest firms on the East Coast. His face appeared in photos with senators, CEOs, a Supreme Court justice. The family lived in a five-story brownstone on Beacon Hill. His stepmother, Patricia, chaired a philanthropic foundation that donated to museums and Republican campaigns. Sebastian had walked away from all of that. Why? She closed the laptop. Rule number four: No asking about the scandal. But this wasn't the scandal. This was something else. Something that made his eyes go dark and his voice go

009Mira spent the night staring at her ceiling, replaying the almost-kiss on a loop.She had stopped it. She had said I can't do this. But the truth was more complicated. She hadn't stopped it because she didn't want it. She had stopped it because she wanted it too much. And wanting Sebastian Kessler... her rival, her fake boyfriend, the boy with a scandalous past and a father who collected leverage, was a kind of madness she couldn't afford.At 6am, she opened her laptop and stared at the essay prompt.Is honesty always the best policy in matters of the heart?She typed: Honesty is contextual. Matters of the heart require discretion to protect all parties involved.She deleted it.She typed: Sometimes love means lying.Deleted.She typed: I am currently fake-dating my academic rival and I think I'm falling for him.Deleted so fast her fingers cramped.She closed the laptop. She would write later. When her chest didn't feel like someone had cracked it open with a crowbar.***At 9am,