Page 17 of My Accidental Valentine

“Then why did you avoid me all this time?”

He lets out a loud sigh, as if bracing himself. When he opens them again, he looks right at me. “Because I told you I was in love with you,” he says.

My pulse hammers in my chest as the words sink in. But I know there’s more—something else he’s holding back.

“And then I kissed you,” he says, his words quieter now. “And you asked me to stop…you said…you had a boyfriend.”

I blink, my mind reeling. The weight of his confession hits me like a wave I never saw coming, knocking the breath from my lungs.

Chapter 5. Drunk

I’m still standing there, frozen, trying to make sense of what he just said.

Did Adam Payne really tell me he was in love with me? That he kissed me? AndIturned him down?

This has to be a dream. Maybe I passed out duringThe Lord of the Rings, and my brain decided to throw me into some bizarre alternate reality.

“What?” I say, my brain barely keeping up. “Wait, are you serious?”

Adam lets out a dry, humorless chuckle and looks away, crossing his arms over his chest.

My thoughts spiral as I try to process what he’s saying. I stopped the kiss—the kiss I’d secretly wanted for most of my adult life. And I told him I had a boyfriend?

I force myself to think back to that time, four years ago. Tim and I had hooked up a few times, sure, but we weren’t official. We weren’t serious. We weren’t even exclusive.

The truth is, I only agreed to start dating Tim after that blackout night with Adam. I remember the shame—the desperate need to prove something. To myself, to the world…and especially to Adam. That I was in control. That my life wasn’t a mess.

So, even though my gut told me Tim wasn’t boyfriend material, I still said yes. What should’ve been a casual fling turned into a three-year relationship—a relationship that, if I’m honest, was toxic from the start.

Which means if I told Adam—the guy I was head over heels for—that I had a boyfriend, it was either because I was too drunk to think clearly…or he misunderstood me completely. Maybe, even in my drunken state, I felt like I needed to talk to Tim first. He was pretty hung up on me back then, and I can easily imagine myself wanting to be fair, even while plastered.

Now I’m just standing here, staring at Adam—completely stunned, trying to find the words to explain. To tell him I’ve spent all this time thinking I ruined everything, only to realize I might’ve had it wrong all along.

Suddenly, a laugh bursts out of me—loud and unhinged, like I’m losing my mind. Adam flinches, as if the sound physically hurts him.

The relief I feel is so overwhelming that I can’t stop laughing—and before I know it, I’m pulling Adam into a hug.

He freezes, caught off guard. But after a beat, his arms come around me, hesitant at first, then tighter, like he’s bracing himself for whatever I’m about to say.

“God,” I breathe out, still holding him, my voice muffled against his shoulder as I let out a shaky laugh. “I thought I kissed you against your will and traumatized you or something.”

Now it’s Adam’s turn to say, “What?” I can hear the confusion in his voice—but there’s a hint of a smile, too.

I pull back just enough to look at him, and suddenly, we’re face to face—so close I can feel his breath on my skin. Hiseyes are fixed on mine, unexpectedly dark, waiting for me to say more.

And I do.

I tell him everything. That I’ve been in love with him all these years. That Tim, at the time, was just a casual hookup, nothing real. I admit I don’t even know why I acted the way I did when I was drunk. I confess how I’ve spent the last four years tearing myself apart over it—ever since I read Peter’s message to Millie. How I wanted to see him, to apologize, but I was too scared to face him.

The words tumble out, raw and unpolished, but it feels like a weight is finally lifting off my chest. And through it all, Adam doesn’t look away—not for a second.

As I speak, Adam’s expression shifts—his face softens, surprise flickering across his features. And in that moment, it hits me: all my anxiety, all those years of regret, were built on nothing but my own wild imagination.

“So… Millie knew you had a crush on me?” Adam asks, still holding me, a slow, disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

I nod, and Adam almost rolls his eyes.

“Peter knew I had a crush on you. And he knew that’s why I stopped coming to Millie’s birthdays. But they didn’t tell each other anything?”

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