LIAM
I saw her.
I saw her.
Zara. Helmet in hand. Standing just a few feet away from me in the hallway as I laughed beside Beatrice.
I hadn't expected her to arrive that early. I thought—maybe foolishly—that I'd have time to sneak out of that scene. That she wouldn't have to see any of it. But the universe had a twisted sense of humor.
And so, she walked in just in time to see it all.
Beatrice's hands on my chest. Her lips pressing to mine. The smug look on her face like she'd just won a prize.
And Zara—God—Zara stood there like the ground had been pulled from under her.
Her eyes met mine, and for a second I swear time froze.
Those eyes used to light up every time she saw me. Used to crinkle at the corners when she laughed at one of my stupid jokes. They were warm, trusting, full of wonder.
But what I saw in them now…
It wasn't anger. It wasn't even hatred.
It was betrayal.
Deep, raw, bone-deep betrayal.
She didn't speak. She didn't yell. She didn't cry.
She just… walked away.
And that silent exit?
It hurt more than any punch Nick ever threw at me.
I stood there, numb, as Beatrice beamed beside me like she'd finally sealed her win. Like this was still part of the game. Part of the damn plan.
But I wasn't playing anymore.
Because in that moment, watching Zara walk away—back stiff, shoulders shaking slightly—I realized something that I had been too much of a coward to admit.
I ruined her.
I hurt someone who never deserved it. Someone who believed in me. Someone who, despite all the warning signs, chose to love me.
And I kissed another girl in front of her like she was nothing.
Why?
To maintain a lie I no longer had the strength to live in?
To make Beatrice and my so-called friends happy?
To save my own pride?
I leaned my head back against the locker, shutting my eyes as guilt crawled beneath my skin like fire. My stomach twisted. My chest ached like something had been yanked from inside it.
She'd trusted me with her heart. Her first kiss. Her vulnerability.
And I crushed it like it meant nothing.
I kept thinking about how she looked the night of prom—radiant in that green dress, nervously adjusting her earrings, eyes full of hope. She had walked into that gym with me—someone who was supposed to protect her. To cherish her.
And I betrayed that trust.
The worst part?
She didn't even scream. She didn't call me names or throw anything at me. She just left. And that silence? That acceptance?
It killed me.
I wanted to run after her. I wanted to say something—anything—that would fix it. But what could I even say?
"I'm sorry I let my pride ruin you"?
"I'm sorry I kissed someone else just to keep up a lie"?
I couldn't speak because I knew the damage was already done.
I looked at Beatrice then. She was talking, bragging about something—I couldn't even hear her. Everything blurred around me. The noise. The faces. The hallway.
All I could think of was her.
Zara.
How she'd looked like the world ended when she saw me with someone else.
And how I was the one who caused it.