Page 31 of It's Only Ever Been You

I focus on my studies, diving into school work with a determination I didn’t realize I had in me. If I’m going to feel broken inside, at least I can channel it into something that might make a difference. My internship has become my lifeline, a reminder that I still have goals, that I’m still capable of something—even if I feel like everything with Ethan is falling apart.

But every time I’m walking through campus, I catch myself scanning the crowds, hoping for a glimpse of him. And when I finally do see him—passing by the quad with his teammates, carefree and unbothered—the ache sharpens, twisting deeper and deeper. He’s laughing with them, relaxed in a way I haven’t seen in weeks, as if whatever happened between us doesn’t bother him at all.

I summon every ounce of strength I have to turn away and keep walking and pretend I don’t see him, pretend it doesn’t hurt.

And maybe this is how things end—no big blow-up, no grand resolution. Just two people slowly drifting apart, each wrapped up in their own worlds, pretending the other doesn’t exist.

But as much as I try to tell myself it’s better this way, that this is what he wants, the truth is…I’m not sure I can let him go without a fight. But I just might have to.

Chapter Eleven

Ethan

College

It’s been weeks since I walked out of Emma’s dorm room, and the ache in my chest hasn’t let up. I tell myself it’s better this way—better to put some distance between us, to let her live her life without me complicating things. But that’s a load of crap, and I know it.

The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about her. About what she said, or what I think I heard her say.

Regret.

That word’s been on a loop in my head, messing with me and hitting harder every time I think about it. I keep telling myself I don’t care—that she’s made her choice, and so have I. But then I see her in the library or passing by the quad, and it takes everything in me not to walk right up to her, to demand answers I’m not sure I even want.

Instead, I do what I’ve always done when I don’t know how to deal with my emotions—I bury them. I throw myself into football, practices, weight training and game prep. Scouts have been showing up more frequently, and I know I need to stay focused if I want any chance of going pro. Junior year’s supposed to be when everything starts to matter. Scouts. Grades. Future plans. It’s all happening faster than I’m ready for. But even then, she’s there, in the back of my mind, distracting me at every turn.

By Friday night, I’ve reached my limit with my own nonsense. I need a distraction—something to take my mind off Emma and the mess I’ve made of everything. So when Jace suggests hitting up a party off-campus, I don’t think twice. Maybe a little noise and chaos is exactly what I need.

The party’s already in full swing by the time we arrive, the bass from the music thrumming through the walls, mingling with the sound of laughter and drunken shouts. Jace grabs a drink and immediately starts chatting up some girl near the bar, while I hang back, nursing a beer and scanning the crowd.

And then I see Emma.

She’s standing near the stairs, her head tilted slightly as she talks to some guy I don’t recognize. She’s smiling, that soft, genuine smile that always used to be for me, and something inside me snaps.

Before I can stop myself, I grab another drink and head toward a group of girls sitting near the edge of the dance floor. One of them, a brunette with bright eyes and a flirty smile, catches my eye immediately. She’s cute, but that’s not why I’m here.

I lean in, making some dumb joke about the music being too loud, and she laughs, her hand resting lightly on my arm. It’s way too easy to play the part of flirt, to let her pull me toward the couch, to let her sit a little too close, her body pressing against mine as we talk. I barely register her name—Sophia, maybe?—because all I can think about is Emma, standing a few feet away, still smiling at that guy like he’s the only person in the room.

Sophia says something I don’t catch, her fingers trailing down my arm, and I turn to her, forcing a smile. “Sorry, what was that?”

She laughs, leaning closer. “I said, you look like you could use another drink.”

I shake my head, setting my empty cup aside. “I’m good for now. Just… enjoying the view.” As I say this, I look down at her cleavage, something she has a lot of. But I do it because from the corner of my eye, I can see Emma looking over here.

This chick’s eyes light up at the comment, and before I know it, she’s leaning in, her lips brushing against mine. It’s quick at first, tentative, but then she deepens the kiss, her hands sliding into myhair. I let her, my mind a haze of bitterness and regret.

When I pull back slightly, I glance toward the stairs, hoping—dreading—that Emma saw. She’s still there, but her smile has faded, her gaze locked on us for a brief moment before she turns away, disappearing into the crowd.

The satisfaction I thought I’d feel never comes. Instead, my stomach twists, guilt creeping in, a totally unwelcome guest. But I push it down, forcing myself to focus on the girl in front of me, on the way she looks at me like I’m the center of her world. For tonight, I’ll let her believe it.

Over the next week, I keep up the act. Whenever I see Emma on campus, I make sure she sees me, too—always with another girl, always laughing or flirting without a care in the world. I tell myself it’s what she wants, that she’s moved on, so I should too. But every time I catch her glancing my way, her expression unreadable, the guilt twists more.

One afternoon, I spot her in the quad, sitting under one of the oak trees with a book in her lap. She stands there, completely at ease, untouched by any of it. Meanwhile, I’ve been wrecking myself over her.

As I pass by with Jace and a couple of the other guys, I make sure to laugh a little louder, and drape my arm casually around the girl walking next to me. Emma doesn’t look up, butI see the way her shoulders tense, the way her fingers grip the edge of her book a little harder.

“Dude, you’re laying it on awfully thick,” Jace mutters under his breath as we walk past. “You trying to piss someone off?”

I don’t answer, because he’s right, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do and we both know it.

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