31. Eli
CHAPTER 31
ELI
Moving around the apartment without making eye contact had become an art. I wasn’t avoiding Niall, not exactly—I still made sure a healthy but tasty breakfast was ready for him by the time he got home from his morning run, still cooked dinner and packed it neatly in the fridge if I wasn’t around. But I wasn’t waiting up for him anymore, and by silent mutual agreement, Niall no longer slept in my room but back in his own.
And I missed him. I missed the weight of him beside me, the way he mumbled in his sleep, and the quiet moments that made everything beautiful. We hadn’t had penetrative sex because I didn’t want to freak him out while I was still giving him time to get used to being with me, so I hadn’t asked for more. But even without that, I missed him.
I wasn’t an asshole. I just couldn’t be around him right now.
It had been a couple of days since the restaurant, since he looked Brady in the eye and said we were roommates. And we were. That was the problem. We were roommates, technically, but it was more. At least, it was to me. And I hated myself for expecting anything different. Niall had never promised me a damn thing. Never pretended he was ready for more than stolen moments behind closed doors. I knew that.
Didn’t mean I wasn’t gutted to hear it out loud.
Still, I couldn’t help myself. Every morning, just for a second, I lingered in the kitchen when he got back from his run. Just long enough to catch a glimpse of him—flushed cheeks, long-sleeve shirt clinging to his torso, leggings or running tights outlining those powerful legs. His breathing still a little heavy as he pulled off his beanie, ruffling his damp hair, then tugging off his gloves one by one. He was beautiful, and for a second, I let myself look before I grabbed my bag and slipped out the door to head to my classes or the library or anywhere else but home.
My phone buzzed on the counter. I glanced at it, already smiling, before I unlocked it. Gigi and Asher were at it again, blowing up our group chat with rapid-fire messages.
Asher: Does your silence mean you’re dead? Or have you become a hermit?
Gigi: Maybe he’s finally left us for a better life.
Asher: Rude. He could at least tell us if he’s been recruited by a cult.
Me: Sorry, my Wi-Fi doesn’t reach inside the cave I now live in.
Gigi: Tragic. We lost him to the wilderness.
Asher: It explains why he’s been avoiding us. You’re always around, and now, poof. No Eli. Suspicious.
Me: Maybe I’m just busy.
Gigi: Please. You were busy before, and you still made time to drag us to café and annoy me into loving you.
Asher: And yet now you’re MIA. Suspicious AND rude.
Me: I’m literally responding to you right now.
Gigi: He has a point.
Asher: Ugh, fine. But you’ve been weird lately. I mean, you’re usually sunshine, and now you’re like… sad rain.
Me: Wow, that makes no sense at all.
Asher: And yet, am I wrong?
I hesitated. If I told them what was wrong, I’d have to tell them about Niall, and that wasn’t my story to tell. And Asher, observant as ever, had probably noticed the shift between me and Niall in the Marketing Principles class the three of us shared. If he’d put two and two together, he wasn’t saying it outright, but I could tell he was nudging at it. I dodged.
Me: Just tired, okay? Midterms, life, you know how it is.
Gigi: Fine. But don’t think we won’t keep annoying you.
Asher: I’ve already scheduled daily check-ins.
A string of ridiculous GIFs and memes followed—cartoon animals crying dramatically, a tiny stick figure being hugged by bigger stick figures labeled ‘ Us ,’ and an aggressively sparkly heart with ‘ WE LOVE YOU ’ flashing across it. My lips twitched, and before I knew it, I was snorting at Asher’s latest GIF of a skeleton lying in a grave with the caption ‘ Waiting for Eli to tell us what’s wrong .’
For a few minutes, it worked. I forgot I was sad.
Then the doorbell rang.
I frowned, pausing mid-scroll on my phone. I wasn’t expecting anyone. And Niall? He was usually at practice this time of the morning, not dropping by, knocking on his own door.
The doors had peepholes, so I leaned in and took a quick glance. A courier stood outside, shifting his weight from foot to foot, a slim package tucked under his arm.
I wasn’t expecting anything. Maybe it was for Niall? It wouldn’t be the first time something of his got delivered while he was out. If that was the case, I’d just sign for it and leave it on the counter for him to deal with later.
I pulled open the door, offering a polite, “Hey.”
The courier barely glanced up from his tablet. “Eli Foster?”
That gave me pause. My name?
“Uh… yeah.”
He extended the package. “Sign here.”
I hesitated, my fingers tightening slightly before I reached for the tablet. My name came out in a quick, uneven scrawl, and I took the package, suddenly aware of the weight of it in my hands.
Not heavy. But enough to feel… significant.
I shut the door and turned it over, checking the return address asI walked to the kitchen counter.
Not familiar. But I didn’t need to recognize it to know.
A cold, creeping feeling crawled up the back of my neck.
Was it from Chase?
The box blurred in my vision for a second. I swallowed hard, pressing my thumb against the tape, my heart pounding like it already knew something I didn’t.
The cardboard gave way, and I peeled back the flaps.
Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a framed photo.
Chase and I, back when I thought I was happy.
His arm was slung around my shoulders, his grin too sharp, too practiced. I knew that look too well now. The kind that fooled people into thinking he was charming, attentive.
I looked younger in the picture. Na?ve. Like someone who hadn’t yet learned what love shouldn’t feel like. I sucked in a breath, trying to push back the memories threatening to crash over me.
Something slipped from the tissue paper and landed face-up on the counter.
A note.
Hope you haven’t forgotten who really knows you.
The air left my lungs on a sharp exhale. My fingers curled against the counter’s edge as a wave of nausea rolled through me.
How did he get my address?
We’d stopped sharing locations when we broke up. I’d sworn my family to secrecy. I’d blocked him. I’d done everything right.
I should call the police. Report… something. But what would I even say? That my ex sent me a picture? That he was messing with my head?
There wasn’t a charge for that.
And the worst part? I wasn’t afraid of him. Not like that.
Chase had never been violent. But he hadn’t needed to be. He got in my head in quieter ways. Twisting, needling, making me believe that loving anyone but him was a betrayal. That every glance, every laugh, every moment of warmth I shared with someone else was proof I didn’t care about him enough.
That if I wasn’t his, I had to be someone else’s.
And if I was someone else’s, I was?—
The front door swung open.
I flinched at the rush of cool air.
Niall stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. His gaze flicked to me, then to the open box on the counter.
His jaw tightened.
“What’s wrong?”