Page 35 of The Story Of Us

I nod, packing my stuff away, and I realise that she probably doesn’t care at all if I stay or not because why would she? We’re not anything to each other anymore, and even though just a few months ago, I would have been figuring out a way to spend as much time with her as possible before leaving, I don’t have that option anymore.

I stand, lifting my hand to rub the back of my neck as I try to form my next sentence to say goodbye to her. But then a thought pops into my head that feels like it came from the old Isaac who was trying so hard to work up the courage to tell his crush that he liked her. What if I just ask her if she wants to meet on some weekends? I try not to think about the best and worst-case scenarios that can come from that, and the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Do you want work weekends?”

“What?”

Okay, well, some words came out of my mouth.

“I mean, do you want to work on this together on weekends?”

I try to gauge her reaction as she looks up at me, but her face gives nothing away.

“I just… it might be easier to do it on weekends instead of during the week.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I rush to say, realising that I’ve probably messed things up with her once again just when we were starting to make some kind of progress.

“No, I want to.” I keep my gaze fixed on her, my eyes flitting across her face to find any hint of if she’s playing with me. But she’s not. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Her question stuns me, and I’m about to say yes, immediately yes, will clear any plans for her, when I remember why I’m leaving right now.

“I’m not. That’s actually why I’m leaving early. I have to go home this weekend.” I hesitate, the silence between us growing heavy in a way it never has before, and I decide to just tell her the truth. “I’m taking the LNAT tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

Two in one conversation, this is going so well.

I know what she’s thinking about from the way her eyes close, how she draws her bottom lip between her teeth and the drop of her shoulders.

She’s thinking about all our conversations about this in the past, about how I wasn’t going to sit the exam because it didn’t fit our plans for our future.

She’s thinking about the fact that that future isn’t going to happen for us anymore.

“Yeah.” I can’t get any other words out. I can feel her disappointment in me like it’s a physical weight bearing down on me, and it feels like any hope I had has completely gone. I tilt my chin up, looking away from her to stare out of the window instead because I can’t bear to see her disappointed in me again.

VIOLET

“I’m taking the LNAT tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

My heart drops as memories flood through my mind of all the times we talked about him not taking the exam and when we planned a whole future together where he didn’t go to Oxford or study Law. Isaac taking the exam is proof that what we had is really over and the future we imagined is never going to happen. I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe.

“Yeah.” His voice is low, his head tilted up to the ceiling like he can’t even stand to look at me while he breaks my heart again.

Isaac’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows, his jaw clenched, and I know he’s struggling with what he’s just said, too. I know he wanted those plans to happen as much as I did when we spoke about them, but maybe that changed over these past few months. Maybe his plans changed the moment we broke up, and I’m the foolish one still holding on to a tiny sliver of hope.

But for some reason, I can’t find it in myself to punish him anymore for this decision when it looks like it’s tearing him apart inside.

“I’m sure you’ll do great.” The words scrape at my throat, but I force them out as nicely as I can, wanting to soothe him in some way like I did so many times before. He drops his eyes to mine again, and I know it’s worked because he gives me a tight-lipped smile. I smile back at him because as much as it hurt me to say it, I meant it.

I know how hard he works from all the nights we spent studying together in the back of the library, the moments when I would see his head start to drop and his eyelids close, his grip on his pen loosening, and I would have to whisper his name to gently wake him up. He would always give me the softest of smiles then, and I’d brush my fingers through his hair, which would only make him want to go back to sleep.

My breath catches as my gaze flickers up to his hair, as if I can still feel it, as if he’s still mine. He moves to tuck his chair back under the desk, and the noise has my eyes dropping down to where he’s gripping the back of it, how white his knuckles have turned.

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