Chapter 3
THREE
THE PAST
Ariana
Ihad officially become the most talked-about girl on campus—at least according to Hannah.
And judging by the looks I got, she wasn’t exaggerating.
It was all because people thought I was dating Grayson Mercer. What other reason could there be? No one had even noticed me before this. Now, no matter where I went, all eyes followed—especially the girls.
People stared. They whispered.
Some girls glared like I’d personally ruined their lives.
I started to feel like maybe I had.
The attention was seriously suffocating, especially when I had no idea what I’d done to deserve it.
But here’s the thing: I wasn’t dating Grayson Mercer.
Honestly, I didn’t even know what was happening. Sure, it was true that Grayson insisted on staying glued to my side almost constantly.
But there was no us. Not officially. Not technically. Grayson never said anything about it, and I didn’t either.
He just started showing up. Walking me to class. Sitting beside me at lunch. Carrying my books like some old-school boyfriend from a teen drama. Then he’d walk me back to my dorm, only to show up again the next morning like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And he was always nice.
He’d ask me how my day was, and it actually felt like he wanted to know. He remembered the things I liked to eat and the things I didn’t. He’d wait in line with me for coffee, even though he didn’t drink it.
And sometimes, when I was quiet or tired or just not in the mood to talk, he’d sit beside me in silence. He never pushed me for anything I did not want. He was just always there.
We would part ways for class, but the moment I was done, I would find him waiting, leaning against a wall or a pillar, his gaze locked solely on mine. So focused. So unapologetic.
It was everything I never knew I wanted.
And yet, it terrified me.
Because he still hadn’t said what we were. Because even after all of that, I still didn’t know if I could call him mine. He acted like this was normal, like we had always been a thing.
And at first, I really thought we were.
Because we kissed.
I had never dated anyone before, and even though I knew that nowadays a kiss could mean anything or nothing at all, to me, it was a big deal.
It was my first kiss. It meant everything to me.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. And I wondered why Grayson never attempted to kiss me again. Not once.
But the problem was, when I wasn’t around, he didn’t ignore the girls still hanging around him. He let them stay close. He flirted with them. He’d throw his arms around their shoulders, let them lean in, their arms draped around his neck as they looked at each other like no one else existed.
Then the moment he saw me, he’d let them go and walk right over—like nothing had happened.
Even when I caught him with a girl kissing his cheek. Even when he smiled at her as she giggled like an idiot.
There wasn’t even a flicker of guilt on his face. It confused me to no end. I wanted to ask him so badly. What were we?
Were we in a relationship? Or were we just friends? Friends who kissed?
But I didn’t have the guts to say it out loud. I was too afraid of the answer.
He never brought it up either.
Maybe it meant nothing to him. Or maybe it meant too much.
I didn’t know which answer scared me more.
It wasn’t until a month after our date that I finally asked him.
I couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t bother me—the gossip I had to endure, the humiliation of being with him while he still entertained other girls, the lingering, demeaning looks.
And worst of all... the way he always found me.
It made me feel things I shouldn’t have felt. It gave me hope. Hope that maybe I meant something to him.
Because I wanted to be his. More than anything, I wanted to be his. But I also wanted to be the only one.
So I finally asked, “Why do you keep following me?”
Grayson looked at me for a moment before answering, his voice quiet.
“I don’t know… I just keep finding myself looking for you.”
His answer only confused me more.
So I said it. “I can’t do this, Grayson. I can’t have you near me, messing with my feelings. If you want to be with me, then be with me. Completely. Otherwise, stay away from me.”
He looked surprised, like he hadn’t expected me to say that. But he didn’t respond. He didn’t say a word. He just bowed his head, turned around, and walked away.
And I waited.
Like a fool, I waited for days, hoping he just needed time to think.
He had told me once that he’d never been in a real relationship, that he was fine with the way things were. But it wasn’t fine with me. I wanted more. I needed more.
Since then, he kept avoiding me.
I’d see him on campus, and for a split second our eyes would meet, then he’d look away.
And so did I.
No words. No explanations. Just silence. Just distance.
But my heart was broken. He broke it. And he didn’t just break it. He shattered it. Like I meant nothing. I tried to forget him. I really did.
But it was hard, because he was everywhere. In the halls. In the places we used to sit. In the silence between my thoughts.
I saw him even when he wasn’t there.
I stopped sleeping. I stopped eating. I lost the will to do anything. It was like losing him drained the color out of everything else, too.
Until one day—two months after I had asked him to choose—he texted me.
“Meet me on the grass lawn in front of your dorm. Six p.m. I need to see you.”
I stared at that message for a long time. I considered it over and over again.
But I was scared. Scared that my heart would break all over again. Scared that he would sneak his way back in, only to discard me again.
But I went anyway. And he was there.
Standing about fifty feet away, hands tucked into his pockets, he looked tired—almost withdrawn. His shoulders hunched, like something invisible was weighing him down.
Still, he stood out.
Even in the sea of students passing through the campus yard, he was impossible to miss. Utterly captivating, with dark hair he never bothered to style, sticking out in every direction.
And that face—still breathtaking. Even the exhaustion in his sunken eyes couldn’t dull the kind of beauty that always stole the breath right out of me.
As if he sensed me, he lifted his head, and our eyes met.
His gaze widened. He blinked first.
And then his lips moved. He mouthed my name. Like he couldn’t believe I was really there.
I walked toward him, my steps slow and uncertain.
He started walking too, meeting me halfway, a smile gradually forming on his lips. When we finally stood face to face, his smile widened, but his eyes softened.
He looked at me as if I were the only thing left in the world worth seeing.
“I’ve been thinking about you, Ari.” His voice was low, rough with feeling. “Every day. Every night. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I can’t forget you. I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried. And yet, being away from you has been its own kind of torment.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, words knotting in my throat, half fear, half desperate hope.
His hand lifted, hovering near my face, as if torn between reaching for me and holding back.
I didn’t move, but I kept my eyes on his, unblinking.
Slowly, his hand dropped to his side.
“If you’ll have me, I’m yours. Only yours.
I’ll walk away from everything, Ari. Everything I used to be, everything I thought I wanted.
Because I want you to be mine. And I know the only way for that to happen is if I give myself to you completely.
Not halfway. Not with one foot out the door. All of me, for all of you.”
If only I had been strong enough not to let his words melt me.
If only I could quiet the butterflies in my stomach every time he smiled at me.
If only he weren’t so beautiful.
If only I didn’t love him so much.
But I did.
I loved Grayson Mercer fiercely, and there was nothing I could do about it.
We officially became a couple, and he kept his word.
He never looked at another girl, and he was always by my side whenever he could be. Grayson Mercer was finally, undeniably taken.
He was my first in every way.
My first boyfriend. My first kiss. The first guy who had ever seen me completely bare.
He was the only one I had given everything to: my purity, my heart, my body, my soul.
But on campus, there was this girl, Demi Wallace, who had more perseverance than any other girl who had ever wanted my boyfriend.
She was relentless in her pursuit of Grayson.
I had to give her credit for her tenacity, and maybe even for her shamelessness.
Because even when Grayson shut her down, rudely and blatantly, right in front of me, and sometimes in front of everyone, she didn’t back off. Not even a little.
She kept coming back, again and again, staring at him with those wide, lovesick eyes. She didn’t even try to hide the way she hated me.
Demi would walk right up to the table where Grayson and I were sitting, pull up a chair without asking, and start talking to him like I didn’t exist.
Pointless chatter. All of it just to get his attention. And most of the time, he ignored her.
But when he had clearly had enough, he would simply tug my hand and walk away, leaving her at the table, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide and pleading, like she couldn’t believe he chose me again.
He never looked back. But I had a bad feeling about her.
Girls like Demi didn’t stop until they got what they wanted. And I should have listened to that feeling. I should have listened to my instincts.
Grayson graduated that year, while I was still in college.
He joined his family’s business and was being groomed to take over his father’s position one day.
And still, he was mine. Only mine.
When I finally graduated, he proposed to me.
I said yes.