9
Remy
I sit on the edge of the couch with my heart jammed in my throat, swallowing hard every few seconds like that might push it back down where it belongs.
This is it… I’ve decided… I want Cole. I don’t think Hannah was ever right for me, she was just the path that led me here, to the moment I finally saw what’s been right in front of me for fifteen years.
It’s always been Cole, of course it has.
We’re inseparable, best when we’re together.
He’s like another part of my soul, something I don’t think I could let go of even if I tried.
Hannah… as horrible as it sounds, she doesn’t feel like a great loss.
She feels like something I grew out of without realising it.
The door opens. Hannah walks in looking exhausted, shoulders slumped, bags dropping to the floor with a thud.
“You alright?” I ask, voice softer than I mean it to be.
She gives me a sad little smile, eyes already glassy.
“It’s just been a long month and I thought…
” She pauses, sniffles, wipes her nose with the back of her hand.
“I thought I could go straight back into lectures and long days, but there’s so much.
It’s all so much. I’m exhausted, and I feel constantly on edge like I’m waiting for my mom’s nurse to call with bad news. ”
Shit. I stand up, cross the room, and pull her into a careful hug, not too tight, not too loving, just… there. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re allowed to feel like this. You’ve been carrying a lot. Give yourself a break.”
She buries her face in my chest and clings harder, misreading the comfort completely. “You’re so sweet, Remy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
We end up on the couch. She talks… about her mom, about the mountain of missed work, about how scared she is… and I listen, nodding, rubbing her back in slow circles. Every time I try to keep it platonic, she leans in closer, eyes soft, like my kindness is proof I still love her the same way.
And then she kisses me. I freeze for half a second, guilt slamming into me like a truck.
She’s exhausted, scared, and crying quietly against my mouth.
I feel like the worst person alive if I pull away right now, so I kiss her back gently, careful, trying to give her what she needs without giving too much of myself.
It escalates fast. Her hands slide under my shirt, tugging it up. “I just want to feel close to you,” she whispers, voice shaky. “Please, Remy… make me forget everything for a little while.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Okay.”
We move to my bed. Clothes come off, hers first, then mine. She’s already wet when she pulls me on top of her, legs wrapping around my waist, whispering how much she missed me, how safe I make her feel. I close my eyes the second I push inside.
I picture Cole. Cole’s hands on my hips. Cole’s low groan in my ear. Cole’s tight heat around me instead of this. Cole’s mouth on mine, biting, claiming. Cole’s voice calling me baby.
It works. I get hard… thrusting slow and steady while she moans beneath me, nails digging into my back, telling me how good I feel.
I keep my eyes shut the whole time, fucking her but thinking only of him, of the way he looked at me in the bathroom earlier today, of the way he said my name like it belonged to him.
She comes first, back arching, crying out my name, clenching around me in waves. I keep moving, chasing the edge I can only reach if I picture Cole’s face, Cole’s hands, Cole’s…
The door to the dorm opens in the living room. I freeze mid-thrust, heart slamming. Cole’s voice carries down the hall, light, laughing at something one of the guys said on the way back.
Hannah doesn’t notice. She’s still panting, pulling me closer, whispering, “Don’t stop, baby…”
But I’m already softening inside her, guilt and panic crashing over me like ice water.
Cole
I walk into the living room smiling, still buzzing from the afternoon.
The guys dragged me to that shitty bar near campus…
nothing fancy, just greasy burgers, cold beers, and enough bad jokes to make my sides hurt.
We only had a couple beers each, just enough to wash the food down and feel loose, not sloppy.
Being young, being idiots, yelling over the jukebox, slapping backs like we just won the national championship. It was good.
The whole time, Remy was in the back of my mind, though.
A quiet hum under the noise, hoping the breakup went okay.
Hoping Hannah wasn’t too heartbroken, she doesn’t deserve that, even if she’s in the way.
Hoping Remy hasn’t been sitting here moping or feeling guilty the whole time I was gone.
I kept picturing coming back to him free, finally.
No more pretending. No more stolen moments in bathrooms or under blankets while she slept in the next room.
I can have him, really have him. Cuddle him in bed all night without guilt, shameless amounts of sex, lazy mornings where I don’t have to pretend I’m not obsessed with every inch of him.
I’m excited… stupidly, boyishly excited.
I head down the hall, still smiling, push Remy’s door open without knocking. “Hey, how did it…”
The words die in my throat. My face drains of colour so fast I feel dizzy.
Hannah’s on her back on the bed, legs wrapped tight around Remy’s waist. He’s buried inside her, her nails dragging down his back. Her head is thrown back, mouth open on a moan. Remy’s eyes are closed.
“Cole! Get out!” Hannah gasps, voice high and shocked.
I slam the door shut so hard the frame rattles. My chest caves in.
I hear Remy’s voice, panicked. “Shit, Cole!”
And Hannah, confused, “No, what are you doing?”
But I’m already moving, grabbing my keys off the hook by the door. I don’t look back. I leave fast, jog down the stairs, three at a time, heart hammering so loud it drowns out everything else. Thank God Coach was wrong; it hasn’t rained. One more thing going wrong and I’d lose it completely.
I basically run to my truck in the lot, unlock it with shaking hands, climb in, and slam the door. I look toward the building, Remy’s sprinting out the front doors, barefoot, shorts half-buttoned, hair wild.
“Cole! Wait!”
I turn the engine over. Tires screech as I peel out, gravel spitting behind me.
I don’t go far, just loop the main roads around the other side of campus until I find the old parking lot under the big oaks.
Nobody parks here much because of the bird shit splattered over everything, but right now I couldn’t give less of a fuck.
I pull into the darkest, most covered spot, kill the engine, kill the lights, and lock the doors.
I rest my forehead on the steering wheel and laugh, bitter and broken.
I guess Remy chose Hannah, chose to stay with her.
And the worst part? I have no right to be mad, he was never mine, not really.
I just thought, after everything… the looks, the touches, the way he said my name like it meant something…
I thought he’d choose me. I thought he’d break up with her. I thought…
A tear slips out. I slap it away fast, angry at myself for even letting it fall. Fuck.
I can’t close my eyes without seeing it: Hannah’s legs locked around his waist, his hips rolling into her, the way her back arched, the way he groaned into her neck like he groaned into mine. I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches, refusing to let another tear fall.
Stupid fucking Remy. Stupid bastard. How could he do this to me? How could he look me in the eye this afternoon, tell me it was me he wanted, then turn around and bury himself in her the second I left?
There’s no going back from this. No casual “we’re cool, man” conversation. No pretending it didn’t happen. What the hell am I supposed to say? “Oh yeah, no worries, I thought I made it obvious I wanted you, but I guess you changed your mind last minute. Cool. See you at practice.”
My phone rings. Remy. I stare at the screen until it stops, then text him before I can overthink it.
Me: I don’t want to speak to you right now. I’m glad things managed to work out with Hannah.
I’m not glad, not even close, but I’m trying to be polite. Trying to keep the last shred of dignity I have left. I turn my phone off.
I’ll sleep in the truck tonight. Sneak back tomorrow for clothes, then crash with Aunt Val for a while. Until I can get my head straight. Until I can look at him without wanting to punch him or kiss him.
I lean the seat back, stare at the dark ceiling of the cab, and try not to think about how much it hurts. It hurts a lot.
Remy
I stand outside the dorm building, the sun dipping low and turning everything gold-orange, shadows stretching long across the quad. My phone is clutched in my hand like it’s the only thing tethering me to reality, but it’s useless now. The text from Cole stares back at me:
Cole: I don’t want to speak to you right now. I’m glad things managed to work out with Hannah.
I try calling again, third time in the last five minutes. Straight to voicemail. “The number you have reached is unavailable.” He’s turned his phone off. I can picture him doing it, thumb jabbing the power button, jaw tight, eyes hard.
I shove the phone into my pocket so hard it almost rips the seam.
My hands are shaking. I run one through my hair, pull hard at the roots until it stings, trying to ground myself.
Students are straggling past, laughing, heading to parties or the library, not a single one noticing the guy losing his mind on the sidewalk.
I’m such a fucking idiot. Why did I let Hannah get to me like that?
She was crying… about her mom, about the classes piling up, about how everything felt like too much.
And I felt guilty. I thought one last time…
comforting, giving her the closeness she needed…
would make it easier. Rip the band aid slower, let her down easy.
But all it did was make everything worse.
I should’ve just said it, should’ve sat her down, looked her in the eye, and ended it clean.
Instead, I let pity win, let her kiss me, let her pull me to bed, and then I closed my eyes and pictured Cole the whole time.
Cole’s hands, mouth, and voice. It was the only way I could stay hard.
She felt nothing like him… loose, wet in the wrong way, no grip, no heat that mattered. I went soft inside her.
But that’s not what Cole saw. He saw me buried in her, hips rolling, groaning like I was enjoying it.
He doesn’t know I was thinking of him, wishing it was him.
That every thrust was for him, every moan was his name in my head.
He just saw betrayal and devastation. And I can’t blame him.
If the roles were reversed, if I walked in and saw him fucking someone, I’d be gutted too.
I didn’t even like those girls staring at him on the field earlier today, didn’t like the pixel girl flirting in the game.
The thought of anyone else touching him makes my stomach turn. So yeah, I get it; I get why he ran.
But now it’s getting dark, and Cole’s out there with nothing but his truck. Surely, he won’t sleep in it, he can’t. Would he go to Val? I could call her, ask if she’s seen him… but then she’d panic, treat it like a missing persons case, and start calling hospitals. No, I can’t do that to her.
I don’t want to go back upstairs. I can’t face Hannah right now, can’t look at her crying eyes, can’t hear her ask what’s wrong, can’t pretend everything’s okay when it’s not.
So, I just stand here, useless, heart hammering, praying to whatever’s listening that I haven’t fucked up my chance with Cole for good.
Because if I have… if he’s done… I don’t know how to fix it.
I don’t know how to live with the look I saw on his face when he slammed that door.
I pull my phone out again, pointlessly, but I do it anyway. Staring at the screen, hoping for anything… nothing. I shove it back in my pocket and start walking, aimlessly, trying to outrun the ache in my chest.