Option one: Walk away and pretend I didn't see him.
Option two: March up, rip off the Band-Aid, and break his heart.
Option three: , he already spotted me.

"Belle?" Jacob's voice rang out, filled with surprise and a hint of excitement. His expression was that of a puppy who'd just spotted its owner after hours of waiting—unfamiliar, yet hopeful. I pasted on a smile, the fake kind that barely made it to my eyes, and walked over to him. His gaze dropped to my outfit—unmistakable confusion written across his face.

"Hi, Jacob," I muttered, my eyes glued to the flowers and gift bag in his hands. This was going to be awkward. I was ready for this conversation.

"I didn't expect to see you outside," he continued, his gaze now softening into something almost... too sweet. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than last night," I replied, my voice cracking like I was a character in a melodramatic soap opera. "Sorry I had to leave like that."

"Don't apologize," he said, stepping closer. "Your health comes first. I was so worried, Belle." And before I could protest, he hugged me—, like we were still close. My arms just hung awkwardly by my sides as if I'd forgotten how to return affection.

"I'm glad you're okay," he murmured when he pulled away. The sincerity was gut-wrenching.

"Thanks," I mumbled, the words almost strangled out of me.

"I brought these for you." He thrust the bouquet of roses and the gift bag at me, his hopefulness practically radiating off him.

"No, I can't accept this," I said, immediately regretting my words as they left my mouth.

"Please, don't make me throw them away," he pleaded. "I couldn't show up empty-handed. I... I just couldn't."

I hesitated, staring at the roses. I didn't deserve them. But throwing them back in his face felt worse.

"Okay. Thanks," I said, taking the flowers.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, still so earnest. "I know a great place we could have breakfast—or, if you'd prefer, I could cook. I'm a great cook. My roommate was a culinary major, so I took all these lessons..."

"As tempting as that sounds," I said, forcing a smile, "I'm really not hungry. But thank you for offering."

I turned, fumbling with my keys to unlock the door. God, this was painful.

"Do you want me to leave?" His voice faltered, the vulnerability creeping in.

It was now or never. I had to do this. For both of us.

"No, actually," I said, my throat tight. "There's something we need to talk about."

His eyes flickered with concern, his expression shifting as his mouth formed a tight line. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his gaze narrowing in suspicion.

"Yeah, yeah. Please, come in."

I stepped aside, letting him in, but the words I'd been rehearsing in my mind all morning suddenly evaporated. I went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water—anything to cool the nerves firing through me like a damn lightning storm. When I returned, I sat next to him on the couch. God, what was I supposed to say?

"Belle, you're freaking me out with that look," Jacob said, his voice soft, urging me to open up. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

I could feel the weight of his hand next to mine, the warmth radiating from him like a live wire. He was trying so hard to comfort me, but I couldn't help but feel like I was about to do something unforgivable.

"I hate that I have to do this," I whispered. "You're an amazing guy, Jacob. And I'm so sorry for what I'm about to say."

His brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could speak, I yanked my hand away from his, trying to protect both of us from the awkward tension building between us.

"I know you don't feel the same way about me," He said quickly, words stumbling over one another. "You never did. I thought I could change that. I thought... I thought I could win your heart, but I guess I was wrong."

I could feel his eyes burning through me, the weight of his disappointment sinking in. I couldn't meet his gaze.

"Don't apologize," he muttered, voice tight. "I saw it coming."

That one sentence, "I saw it coming," it hit me like a slap. Had I been that obvious? Had I hurt him that badly?

"So... who's the lucky guy?" he asked, his voice strained, though he tried to sound indifferent.

"Huh?" I said, pretending I didn't know what he meant, but my stomach was doing flips.

"Come on, Belle. You smell different. His scent is all over you."

I froze, my fingers twitching, betraying me. My gaze darted anywhere but at him. I fiddled with the hem of my hoodie, praying to whatever god was listening that I could escape this conversation.

"We're friends, right? You can tell me," Jacob pushed, his voice a little too calm. "How did he do it?"

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "Someone I've been trying to convince myself I don't want... but I can't stay away. I can't get him out of my head."

Jacob's eyes softened, and then he gave me a small, resigned smile. "He's lucky," he said quietly. "You're a hard woman to win. I hope he's worth it."

"I hope so too," I mumbled under my breath, though I wasn't sure if I was talking to him or myself.

"I'm happy for you, Belle," he added, though his tone had shifted—darker now, tinged with something I couldn't quite place.

"I'm sorry about last night," I blurted out, the guilt threatening to swallow me whole. "I was selfish."

"You can't deny your heart what it wants," he said, the weight of his words sending a pang through my chest. He wasn't angry. Just... disappointed. And that felt worse than anything.

"How can I make it up to you?" I asked, my voice cracking a little. I needed to fix this. I needed to make him understand that I didn't want to hurt him.

Jacob was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as if he were weighing his options.

"Let me take care of you," he said finally. "I promise—my intentions are pure. This is about our friendship."

I shook my head, not out of malice but out of sheer exhaustion. "No, that's not necessary."

"Oh, I get it," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Worried about what your boyfriend will think?"

Boyfriend. The word hit me like a freight train. Adrian and I weren't —not really. And yet, that tiny word sent my heart racing.

"No, it's not that," I said quickly, suddenly defensive. "And he doesn't get to decide who's in my life." I crossed my arms, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I can take care of myself."

"Right," Jacob muttered, a dry laugh escaping him as he adjusted his glasses once more. He was doing his best to hold it together, but I could tell it wasn't easy.

"I think it's time for me to go," he said, standing up.

"Thanks for coming," I replied, forcing a smile as I walked him to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"Of course," I said, but the words felt like they were suffocating me.

"Someone covering for you today?" I asked, not knowing why I suddenly cared.

"Yeah," Jacob replied, the tiniest hint of sadness in his eyes. "Dr. Jasper's got it covered. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

I nodded, stepping back as he walked out. "Take care," I said, but the words felt hollow.

He gave me a small smile before walking away. I shut the door and slumped against it, my chest heavy with regret.

I walked to the fridge and grabbed a pint of ice cream. Stress eating had become a well-honed skill. My phone buzzed.

I couldn't help but smile—almost laughing at the fact that I'd saved his name under . It felt like the right kind of joke in the moment.

Asshole: missing you already.

Reminder to change the name, I smiled excessively as I typed my reply.

Me: It's only been six minutes since we separated, you'll be fine.

A reply came immediately, I leaned back on the couch with my legs folded as my cheeks hurt from blushing at my phone.

Asshole: Really? Feels like a century.

Me: don't you have work to do?

Asshole: relax, I'm the CEO, I won't get fired.

Me: insert eye roll

Asshole: I wish I could be at two places at the same time.

Me: guess who is keeping me company?

Asshole: I'm ready to commit murder, who is it?

I took a picture of the ice-cream and tv screen like an aesthetic and sent it to him.

Asshole: all I can see are those damn gorgeous thighs, stop teasing me Vixe

I snapped a picture of my ice cream and the TV—looking far too aesthetic for my own good—and sent it his way.

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. It was like every second I spent with him made me feel like I was falling harder. I told myself. I shouldn't let it get to me.

But I couldn't help it.

There was a full five minutes of silence. Then my phone buzzed. . I snorted. With a dramatic eye-roll, I swiped the notification away and refused to answer.

Sitting up, I let out a satisfied sigh and resumed watching my show, letting the tension of the day start to melt away. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door.

I blinked, confused. Did Jacob forget something? But no, I couldn't see anything around the apartment .

I stood up, my curiosity piqued, and walked to the door. Peeking through the peephole, I froze. My heart skipped. I swung the door open without a second thought.

"Chloe!" I beamed at her, but she didn't return the smile. Instead, she shot me a cold, sharp look and waltzed in, pulling two small hands along with her—Kayden and Kayla.

"Nice to see you too," I muttered, half sarcastic, half amused, as I shut the door behind her.

"I am beyond pissed at you," she shot back, voice full of sass. She gently placed Kayla on the couch, but before she could settle in, Kayden had already bolted across the room, a little ball of chaos.

Chloe sighed, watching him run around with that expression on her face. "He's worse than a tornado." She dropped her diaper bag with a thud, and then turned to face me, her arms crossed like she was ready for a battle.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "Adrian was hurt and needed a ride home so—"

"Really?" she interrupted with a raised brow. "You two couldn't keep your hands off each other long enough to stay for the toast? You disappeared before the photos were even taken. You better wow me with your speech at my wedding to make up for last night," she snapped, heading straight to my kitchen and opening the fridge like she owned the place.

I leaned back against the counter, trying to hide my grin. "I'm a wizard with Photoshop. No one will even notice the difference."

Her eyes narrowed. "Nice try." She slammed the fridge door shut, shooting me a dark look as she straightened up. "But you still missed the toast and the photos."

"I know," I said with a sigh. "I wanted to come back, really. But things got... out of control."

"Sure," she muttered, unconvinced, as she moved to the living room, strawberries in hand. She dropped onto the couch next to Kayla, whose tiny face was glued to her pink iPad, oblivious to the world.

"Mommy?" Kayden's voice broke through the room's quiet hum. He came running toward Chloe, a little whirlwind of energy.

"Yes, sweetie?" Chloe asked, not taking her eyes off the strawberries she was preparing for Kayla.

"Tweee," Kayden pointed to the plant in the corner of the room with a look of absolute fascination.

Chloe rolled her eyes and muttered, "You and Adrian better make it up to me at my wedding," as she sat down, offering one of the strawberries to Kayla, who immediately popped it into her mouth with tiny, sharp teeth.

I chuckled and shook my head. "You look stunning for someone who should be exhausted," I said, unable to stop myself from admiring her. She wore a short silk dress that was perfect in its simplicity, paired with a denim jacket that I was pretty sure belonged to Tristan. The white sneakers on her feet made them look dainty and small, and the messy hair pulled into a loose bun told me she'd probably rolled out of bed like this. Yet, despite all of that, she still looked effortlessly chic.

Chloe glanced up at me, raising an eyebrow. "Really? I didn't even take a shower," she replied nonchalantly, giving Kayla another strawberry. Kayden was still running around, causing chaos, as usual.

"I'm actually shocked you came to visit," I said, leaning back in my chair. "I thought for sure you'd forgotten where this place even was by now."

She flashed me a mischievous grin. "Admit it, Vee. You miss me. You want me to come back."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Please, I don't have to wait for for you to leave the bathroom anymore. That's my biggest flex since you moved out."

"Ouch," Chloe said, dramatically hitting me on the shoulder. "That hurt."

I laughed, but the grin quickly faded into something more tender. "You know I miss you," I admitted softly. "But I'm also happy for you. It's good to see you finally settled."

Chloe's face softened, and a smile pulled at the corner of her lips. "Aww, thanks," she said, her voice lighter now.

I reached over to where Kayla was sitting and picked up a strawberry, offering it to her. She was so small, so delicate—so very . The same deep blue eyes, the same intense expression that seemed to always be watching, processing. She was quiet, and I'd never heard her say a word since they brought her back from Cuba. Unlike Kayden, who was always loud, always talking or yelling or singing, Kayla was a mystery. Her silence was a weight that hung in the air, but she was perfect, in her own way.

"Hey, Kay," I whispered gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She looked at me, her intense gaze holding mine for a moment, before she returned to her iPad, unfazed.

Chloe was watching me now, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "She's a copy of Tristan, isn't she?" she said softly. "It's uncanny."

I nodded, still staring at Kayla. "She is. Even the way she looks at me, it's like she already knows something I don't."

"How's it going with her?" I asked Chloe quietly.

"Still adjusting," Chloe replied, her voice tinged with worry. "She's been quiet, but she's not crying when I hold her anymore, so I'll take that as progress."

"She'll warm up eventually," I said, trying to reassure her. "Maybe she's just the quiet type."

"She's probably just figuring out who she can trust," Chloe said with a sigh, her voice full of affection. "She'll talk in her own time. Maybe she's just watching everything first."

I glanced back at Chloe, catching the quiet strength in her eyes. "I hope so. I think she'll be okay, though."

"Yeah, well," Chloe said, shifting her weight on the couch, "She's just quiet. Not everyone is like Kayden, you know?"

I smiled at the thought of Kayden, who was still running around the room, shouting at the top of his lungs. "I know. But it's funny how they're so different, isn't it? One's so loud, and the other just... watches."

Chloe laughed. "You should see her and Kayden in action. It's like they have their own little language. They're constantly shouting, laughing, and making these weird noises no one understands."

"I'd love to witness that," I said, grinning. "It sounds like they have more fun than I do."

"You'll get there," Chloe teased, handing me a strawberry. "You just have to find the right guy to with."

I snorted. "I'm good, thanks. Blair Waldorf's enough drama for me right now."

"Are you seriously watching ?" Chloe laughed. "What are you—ten?"

"Don't judge," I said, grinning. "I missed the chaos. Blair's my spirit animal."

Chloe rolled her eyes dramatically. "You always did have weird taste. But hey, you remember ? The one where we binged three seasons during finals and nearly failed the exam?"

"I thought my brain was going to melt from the stress. And you were the one who got me hooked," I said, giving her a look.

"Hey, you were after the first episode. Don't blame me," she shot back with a wink.

"I'm blaming you. I had migraines from all those stupid math problems after that."

"Thank God Ms. Flowers let us retake the exam," Chloe said, shaking her head. "Xuechun is a life saver."

We spent the next few hours reminiscing about high school days, laughing at how we barely survived finals and yet somehow made it through.

Chloe left shortly after receiving a call from Tristan, informing her he was on his way back with her favorite sandwich and some seafood. She promised to send some my way, but I didn't believe her—not for a second. That is, until I received a picture of an empty takeout bag, accompanied by the caption:

I couldn't help but respond with a knife emoji.

It was well past eight, and Adrian still hadn't texted. I picked up my phone, feeling a growing knot in my stomach, and fired off a message.

Me: running late?

I waited five minutes for a reply but got none. I kept checking my phone every second and I grew frustrated. By the time Chloe left, the sun was dipping low, and I was feeling oddly content—until I checked my phone.

I smiled and quickly texted him.

No reply.

I stared at the screen, growing more and more frustrated.

Nothing.

I could feel my patience wearing thin. Finally, I let out a sigh and typed,

I tossed my phone on the bed, feeling a bit childish. Maybe I was overreacting, but this was getting ridiculous. I let out a frustrated huff as I stripped off my clothes and headed for the shower. The water was hot enough to burn away the tension in my shoulders, but it did little to calm the restless thoughts swirling in my head. Adrian.

Afterward, I rushed to prepare for work, getting my clothes ready for the morning before slipping under the covers. I glanced at the time—nearly 9:00 p.m.

I pulled the duvet around my shoulders like a shield, burying my face in the pillow, but all I could think about was him. What was he doing right now? Was he still coming to see me, or had he... lost interest? What if he—

Just then, my phone buzzed, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. I hesitated, the anger simmering, but when I saw his name lighting up the screen, my heart fluttered in spite of myself. The stupid smile that crept across my face couldn't be helped. Still, I refused to answer.

I stared at the ringing screen for a moment longer before it dinged again. Adrian's texts filled my inbox, each one an apology, each one explaining why he couldn't make it tonight. The last one said he'd call on FaceTime. I swallowed the lump in my throat and answered with the meanest expression I could muster.

"Did I wake you?" His voice, low and apologetic, sounded like warm honey, rich and rough.

"No," I replied, trying to sound unaffected, though the tremble in my voice betrayed me.

"I'm so sorry, Vixen," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. "I'm still stuck at work... and I don't think I'll be able to make it tonight."

I could see him on the screen—papers stacked high, a fountain pen resting lazily beside them. He was slumped over, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. His hair was tousled in that way that only made him more irresistible. The bags under his eyes screamed tiredness, but the small smile he forced through it made my chest ache.

"It's fine," I sighed, too soft, too understanding.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about I pick you up for lunch tomorrow?" His smile turned a little more genuine. "What time do you go on break?"

"12:30," I replied, my lips curling into a smile of my own.

"Okay, I'll squeeze that in," he said, his voice lightening. He leaned closer to the screen, and the glow of his face made my heart skip a beat. "Do I always sound this sexy when I'm tired?"

I chuckled and adjusted the phone so I could lean back against my pillow, glancing at him as I caught my breath. "I guess. You should hurry and get some sleep, though. You look like a walking corpse."

"It won't be that easy without you," he whispered, almost too softly for me to hear.

The warmth of his words lingered in the room long after he'd said them, and for a moment, all I wanted was to reach through the phone and pull him closer.

"So, Chloe came over," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "She was we missed the toast and the photos."

"Oh shit, I totally forgot about that," he groaned, tilting his head back with a mix of frustration and amusement.

"Can you stop looking sexy for one second?" I teased, though the corners of my lips twitched into a smile.

"I can't help it," he said, his voice full of mock arrogance, as he leaned closer to the screen, his eyes full of that mischievous spark I couldn't resist.

I rolled my eyes, but inside, I was melting.

"I spoke to Jacob today," I said, changing the subject.

"How'd it go?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Not bad, but I still feel like I murdered someone," I admitted, burying my face in the pillow to hide the laugh that bubbled up.

"Sending you virtual hugs to make you feel better," he said, his words carrying that trademark warmth.

I smiled into the pillow, my heart lighter than it had been all day. "Are you blushing, Vixen?"

"No," I muttered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks despite my best efforts to deny it.

"I wish I could be there with you," he said softly, his tone shifting, just a little. "And as much as I want to keep talking to you... I've gotta get back to work. You need your sleep too."

"Don't hang up," I pleaded, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "I want to listen to your voice as I fall asleep. Tell me about your day."

The gentle hum of his voice, low and soothing, filled the room as I snuggled deeper into my pillow. The light from the screen cast a soft, silvery glow around me, and I closed my eyes, listening to the rhythm of his words.

"Vixen?" His voice was a soft whisper, as if he could feel me drifting away.

I didn't answer immediately, my eyelids heavy with sleep. I was too comfortable.

"She's already sleeping," he muttered to someone in the background. I couldn't stop the smile from tugging at my lips. He was talking about me.

I heard the faint click of heels in the background—Elise, probably, coming to deliver some papers.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Adrian asked, his voice quieter now.

"She is," Elise replied, her voice distant.

I felt my lips twitch at the words, fighting the smile that wanted to spread across my face.

I heard Elise leave, her footsteps echoing in the distance.

Then Adrian's voice returned, his tone suddenly tentative. "Would you go on a date with me, Vixen?"

My eyes flew open at the question, my heart skipping a beat.

"Oh, you're still awake?" He sounded surprised, a little sheepish. "And you probably heard that... I was practicing how to ask you out."

I could barely suppress the giggle that threatened to escape. "Yes, a date sounds nice," I whispered, my heart racing, feeling the warmth of a real smile spread across my face.

"Great," he said, his voice a little lighter, "I'll check what day works for both of us."

"Okay, keep talking," I said, closing my eyes again and snuggling closer to the pillow, the warmth of the moment filling me from the inside out.

###

Brandy pulled up to my apartment to pick me up, still dealing with the never-ending car trouble that had been plaguing me for days. When I opened the passenger door, she greeted me with a cheerful "Morning," a bowl of cereal balanced in one hand as she waited for me to settle in.

"Morning," I replied, strapping myself in, eyeing her quirky breakfast choice.

"Want some?" she asked, holding the bowl out like she was offering me a treasure.

I shook my head, laughing. "Nah, I just had some toasted bread with Nutella."

Her eyes widened in mock horror. "And you didn't think to share?" she teased.

"I—uh—" I fumbled, laughing awkwardly.

"Hold this," she said with a grin, shoving the bowl into my hands before peeling out of the driveway.

"So," she said, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. "How was the engagement party?" Her tone was casual, but I could hear the curiosity bubbling beneath.

I sighed and told her about Jacob—how I ended things, how I had left the party with Adrian.

Brandy's eyes flicked over to me, and she raised an eyebrow. "That's cold," she said, with a teasing smirk.

"I know," I groaned. "I shouldn't have left him stranded at the engagement party, but... seriously, I only see him as a friend and mentor."

She nodded, her expression softening. "I get it. But seriously, if he ever messes with your feelings again, you know where to find me."

I laughed, appreciating her protective instinct. "I'll hold you to that," I said, my heart feeling a little lighter.

The rest of the ride passed in a blur as Brandy called her older brother, her voice rising in volume as they went back and forth. I think my ears might've started bleeding from the constant barrage of curses, but honestly, I'd grown used to it. They didn't filter anything, not even for a second.

When we finally pulled up to the hospital, a wave of anxiety washed over me. My stomach twisted in a knot. The thought of running into Jacob—after what had happened—was enough to make me want to find a hole and crawl into it.

Brandy dropped me off with a quick, "Good luck," before I stepped out of the car. I waved goodbye, my stomach still in turmoil. I only wished we were still assigned to the same unit. That would've made this whole thing a hell of a lot easier.

As I walked toward the elevator, I heard someone shout, "Please hold the elevator!" I froze, my heart sinking when I realized it was Jacob. Without thinking, I hit the close door button and pretended I hadn't heard him.

The elevator doors slid shut, and I breathed a small sigh of relief. I should've felt guilty—hell, I did—but I also couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to distance myself from him, to let the awkwardness settle before I could face him again.

I pulled my phone from my pocket just as it dinged. Adrian's name lit up the screen, and a smile tugged at the corner of my lips before I could even stop it.

Can't wait to spend the afternoon with you.

Me too.

I couldn't help it. Every word from him sent a flutter through me. It had been just one day, but it felt like a lifetime. I was counting down the seconds until my lunch break, like a kid waiting for the school bell to ring. I didn't even know why it felt like I hadn't seen him in years.