Page 34 of It's Only Ever Been You

College

Isit on the bench in the quad, the air swirling what is left of the leaves around my feet. It’s been weeks since that night at the party, and while I’ve thrown myself into my classes and my internship, the ache in my chest hasn’t faded. Every time I pass Ethan on campus or hear his name, the knot in my stomach tightens.

Sarah’s been relentless in her attempts to cheer me up, dragging me to study sessions and coffee dates, but it’s no use. My thoughts always circle back to him.

I glance up from my notebook, my gaze drifting across the way. A group of guys is tossing a football near the fountain, their laughter carrying on the breeze. For a moment, it reminds me of home—of simpler times when Ethan and I would sit under the bleachers after his games, talking about everything and nothing.

My phone buzzes on the bench beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts. It’s Sarah.

Sarah: Meet me at the coffee shop. I’ve got news!

I text back quickly.

Me: On my way

I grab my bag and head toward the café at the edge of campus.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits me as I push open the door, and I spot Sarah at a corner table, her laptop and a stack of papers spread out in front of her. She waves me over, a wide grin on her face.

“You’re not going to believe this,” she says, practically bouncing in her seat.

“What’s up?” I ask, sliding into the chair across from her.

She pushes a flyer toward me. “Professor Klein recommended me for this publishing internship downtown. I can’t tell you how huge this is, Emma. Like, life-changing huge.”

I smile, genuinely happy for her. “Sarah, that’s amazing! You totally deserve it.”

She beams, taking a sip of her latte. “Thanks. And what about you? How’s the internship going?”

I shrug, fiddling with the edge of my notebook. “It’s good. Busy, but good.”

“Good’s not the word I’d use to describe the last few weeks,” a familiar voice interrupts, low and rough, cutting through the noise of the coffee shop.

I look up, and there he is standing in front of me and my heart skips a beat.

Ethan.

He’s at the edge of our table, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking both hesitant and determined.

“Hey,” I say softly, my chest tightening, unsure why he’s even here after ignoring me for so long.

“Hey,” he replies, glancing at Sarah before focusing on me. “Uh, can we talk?”

Sarah looks between us, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’ll, uh…grab another coffee,” she says, standing and giving me a pointed look that says,Talk to him.

I nod, my throat dry, and watch as she walks away, leaving Ethan and me alone at the table. He doesn’t sit right away, just stands there, fidgeting with the strap of his bag.

“Do you mind if I…” he gestures to the chair across from me, his voice softer than I expected.

“Sure,” I say, my voice barely audible. My stomach knots as he slides into the seat—it’s weird how him being here feels both comforting and overwhelming at the same time.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The tension between us is thick, and I don’t know how to break it. He’s the one who wanted to talk, but now that he’s here, he seems just as lost as I feel.

“I—” we both start at the same time, then stop, a nervous laugh escaping me.

“Go ahead,” I say, folding my hands in my lap to keep them from trembling.

He rubs the back of his neck, something he does when he’s nervous, his gaze dropping to the table. “I, uh… I’ve been a dick,” he says, his voice low but steady. “And I owe you an apology.”

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