I didn't see Liam for two days.
Which shouldn't have mattered.
We weren't friends. We weren't anything.
So why did his absence feel loud?
I buried myself in lectures, assignments, and long walks back to the hostel. Anything to avoid thinking about the way his voice sounded when he said my name.
On the third day, it happened.
I walked into the library—and there he was.
Laughing.
With her.
She was beautiful in an effortless way. Tall, confident, her hand resting casually on his arm like it belonged there.
My chest tightened.
I told myself it didn't matter. I turned to leave.
"Ariella."
Of course he saw me.
He gently removed her hand and walked toward me. That small action shouldn't have meant anything—but it did.
"Hey," he said softly. "I've been looking for you."
"I'm busy," I replied, even though I wasn't.
He studied my face. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No."
"Yes," he said calmly. "You're pulling away."
I laughed, sharp and bitter. "You barely know me."
"Then let me," he said.
The words cracked something inside me.
"You don't want to," I whispered.
"Why?"
Because the last boy who wanted to know me also promised not to hurt me.
And he broke me instead.
"He cheated," I said suddenly. "With my best friend."
Liam went quiet.
"I trusted him," I continued, my voice shaking. "And when everything fell apart, he told me it was my fault. That I wasn't enough."
I swallowed hard. "So no. I don't do 'getting close' anymore."
The silence stretched.
Then Liam spoke. "I'm not him."
I looked at him, tears burning my eyes. "They all say that."
He didn't argue. He didn't promise.
He just said, "I'll prove it."
And for the first time in a long while...
I wondered what it would be like to let someone try.