Chapter 14
Jul 4, 2025
The rooftop balcony is freezing. My tears sting before they fall. The wind slices across my cheeks like it’s punishing me for feeling anything at all. The city below looks small. Like maybe if I jumped, none of this would matter.
I grip the edge of the stone railing and close my eyes. I don’t want to fall—I just want to stop spinning. Everything inside me is loud. His silence. Her voice. My own thoughts. They won’t shut up.
“Juliet.”
I freeze. I don’t turn. But I know his voice. I could be dreaming or dead and I’d still know it.
“Go away,” I say, quiet but sharp. I hope the wind carries it and cuts him, the way he cut me without touching me.
He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He steps beside me anyway, like this is his place too. Hands in his pockets. Shoulders stiff. Face unreadable.
“She said something, didn’t she?”
I laugh, and it comes out cracked and bitter. “She’s better at this game than I am.”
I finally glance at him, and his jaw clenches just enough to prove he already knows what she said.
“I didn’t kiss her first,” he says quietly. “I let her close because I was pissed. Because you wouldn’t even look at me.”
I swallow. The ache in my throat is sharper than the wind. “So you punish girls by letting them think they matter?”
He flinches like I slapped him. It’s quick—barely a twitch. But I see it. I see all of him tonight, stripped of smirks and swagger. And I hate that it makes my chest hurt worse.
He doesn’t answer. Not at first. Just breathes. Looks out at the city like it might give him better lines than the ones he’s rehearsed in his head.
“Maybe I deserved that,” he says finally. “But I didn’t go there to make you jealous. I went because I didn’t know how to handle losing you.”
“You didn’t lose me,” I snap, blinking back fresh tears. “You just didn’t try.”
He lets out a slow breath like he’s been holding it since the party.
“Juliet… I don’t know how to do this. Any of this. I’m used to girls who don’t ask questions. Who don’t look at me like I’m anything but a distraction.”
He leans in, voice lower. Steadier.
“But you looked at me like I could ruin you. And you liked it.”
“Well, I did,” I whisper. “And maybe that was my mistake.”
His hand lifts, hesitating for half a second before brushing a tear from my cheek. It’s soft. Too soft. My whole body reacts, like he struck a match and held it just under my skin.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “This feels like losing.”
His eyes meet mine. There’s no game in them now. No arrogance. Just something honest and a little scared. “Maybe losing to you wouldn’t be so bad.”
I shake my head, not because I disagree, but because I don’t trust what I’ll do if I say yes to this moment.
“Why me?” I ask. “Why not Brielle or one of the girls who throw themselves at you?”
He hesitates. Then: “Because you’re the only one who makes me want to stop pretending.”
That wrecks me. I feel the words land right under my ribs. I step back a fraction, because it’s too much. Too raw. Too real.
He leans in slightly, and I do too. Our faces are inches apart, his eyes flicking down to my lips. I can smell the mint on his breath, the warmth of his skin battling the cold.
“I didn’t mean to ruin you,” he says softly. “I just… didn’t know how to hold you without breaking something.”
“I’m not made of glass,” I say, even though I don’t believe it.
He smiles, just a flicker. “You are to me.”
