Chapter 22
Jul 4, 2025
That night, I send a message Grayson probably doesn’t expect. Room 3B. One last time. I don’t explain. I don’t say why. Just those words and the hope he’ll understand what they mean—what they don’t.
When I walk in, he’s already there. Leaning against the wall like it’s the only thing holding him up. His hair’s a mess, his blazer half-off, and for once, he doesn’t have anything clever to say. His eyes lock on mine, and in that second, I know he feels it too—this quiet, aching goodbye.
“I’m leaving,” I say, barely more than a breath.
His whole body stills. “What?”
“My father’s pulling me out. He says I’ve done enough damage.”
Grayson doesn’t speak. His hands twitch, like he wants to punch something—or maybe reach for me. But he doesn’t do either. He just stands there and lets it sink in.
I force myself to keep going. “He doesn’t care that I didn’t leak anything. Doesn’t care about the truth. Just the headlines. The shame.”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. Maybe he knows he can’t fix this. Or maybe he knows he’s part of it.
“If I stay, I lose everything.”
I pause, swallowing down the lump in my throat. My voice breaks when I say, “If I leave… I lose you.”
He flinches, just barely. “Juliet…” His voice cracks like glass. “There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t.”
“I’ll talk to him—your dad. I’ll tell him—”
“You won’t change his mind.”
His eyes flash. “Then I’ll go to the Dean. I’ll get expelled if I have to. Just—don’t leave.”
“You think this is just about school?” I whisper. “It’s everything. My name. My future. My family won’t even look me in the eye.”
He looks like he’s about to break. “I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did,” I say, quiet and raw. “Because you weren’t careful.”
His voice breaks. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t realize—”
“That I wasn’t a secret you could afford to forget,” I cut in. “That the things we did weren’t just a game to me.”
He steps forward. “It wasn’t a game.”
I almost feel sorry for him—almost. Because I know what grief looks like now. It’s not always loud. Sometimes it just stands there, silent and ashamed.
“I kept thinking,” I say, staring down at the scuffed floor, “if I’d never kissed you… if I’d walked away that night… maybe none of this would’ve happened.”
He steps closer, his voice soft. “But you didn’t.”
“No. I didn’t. And now I don’t get to have regrets. I get to pack my things and disappear.”
“Juliet, please.”
“I loved you,” I say, voice shattering. “I trusted you. I defended you when everyone else told me not to.”
His hands curl into fists. “And I loved you. I still do.”
“Then why didn’t you fight for me?”
“I tried,” he says. “I just… didn’t push when you stepped back. I thought maybe you didn’t want me to.”
I stare at him, the ache turning to ice.
“I wanted you to try anyway. I wanted to be worth the risk. Not just the easy kind of wanting.”
He takes another step forward, desperation rising in his voice. “I’ll wait. I don’t care how long. Just don’t say goodbye like this.”
“I have no choice.”
“Yes, you do. We could run away—get out of this place, all of it—”
“And go where, Grayson? Where no one knows my name? Where I don’t wake up every morning feeling like I’m rotting from the inside out?”
He goes quiet.
“It’s not just the scandal,” I say. “It’s the silence that followed. The way you looked at me like I broke something you didn’t want to fix.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” I whisper. “It’s not.”
He reaches for me—slowly, like if he moves too fast, I’ll vanish. His hand grazes mine.
I pull away.
My voice shakes. “We’re not built to last, Grayson. We’re not safe when we’re together.”
He steps in closer — slow, deliberate.
“I never wanted safe.”
