26. Bianca
26
BIANCA
A s I glance up from my sketches, I spot Liam across the street, sliding into his sleek car. A jolt shoots through me, making my pulse quicken. What is he doing here? Is he watching me? My heart does a weird flip, and I find myself gripping the edge of the table to steady my suddenly unsteady self.
"Bianca?" Sarah snaps me back to reality. "What do you think about the color scheme for the lobby?"
"Uh, right," I mumble, dragging my gaze back to the table. "I think we should go with something bold—like deep teal with gold accents. It'll make a statement."
Sarah nods, scribbling in her notebook. But my mind's already wandered off again, stuck on Liam.
"Are you okay?" Sarah's voice cuts through my thoughts again. "You seem a little... distracted."
I force a smile. "Just thinking about how to make this project perfect."
She gives me a knowing look but lets it slide. The rest of the meeting drags on with talk of fabric swatches and furniture layouts, but I'm not really present.
When it's finally over and everyone starts packing up, I glance out the window again. Liam's gone now, but the surprise lingers.
Was breaking up really the right choice? Did I give up too easily? A part of me thinks maybe I did. Maybe I should've fought harder for us.
As everyone files out, Sarah stays behind for a moment. "Seriously though, you okay?"
I nod slowly. "Yeah... just got a lot on my mind."
She pats my shoulder. "You're doing great work here, Bianca. Don’t let anything mess with your focus."
I give her a tight-lipped smile and gather my things. As I step outside into the crisp air, Liam's presence still haunts me.
Maybe it's time to reconsider everything.
Walking down the busy street, the thought of Liam watching me from across the street gnaws at my mind. I can’t shake the feeling that I missed something, some unspoken test that I failed spectacularly. Was breaking up with them the right move? Or was it all a test to see if I would fight for them?
The more I think about it, the more convinced I become. Maybe they were waiting for me to prove how much I wanted this to work. And instead, I walked away. No, worse—I ran.
I can still see the disappointment in Liam's eyes, the way Alex tried to keep things light even as the tension grew, and James, always the quiet one, watching me with a look that screamed betrayal. I didn't just walk away from them; I sprinted in the opposite direction, leaving a trail of regrets behind.
The sounds of San Diego’s bustling streets surround me—horns blaring, snippets of conversation, the distant wail of a siren. Yet, none of it registers. My thoughts are stuck on a loop, replaying every moment since I saw them again.
Did they expect me to fight for them? Maybe Liam’s coldness and Alex’s guarded demeanor were their ways of testing my resolve. Maybe James’s surprise at seeing me was him hoping I'd insist we could make this work.
I pause at a crosswalk, the scent of fresh coffee from a nearby café wafting through the air. What if they’re thinking I'm still the same girl who ghosted them years ago? Afraid and unsure? They probably think I'm still running away at the first sign of trouble.
As the light turns green and I cross the street, my stomach twists with regret. Maybe it wasn’t about them not trusting me; maybe it was about me not trusting myself to fight for what I want.
I turn into a small park, finding an empty bench under a large oak tree. Sitting down, I bury my face in my hands. What the hell am I doing? How could I let them go without so much as a real fight.
Why didn’t I push back harder and try to make them see how much this means to me?
Sighing deeply, I lean back against the bench and stare up at the branches above. The sunlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. It's peaceful here—a stark contrast to the storm inside my head.
I need to figure out what to do next. One thing is clear: walking away wasn’t just a mistake—it was a colossal failure. I let fear and doubt dictate my actions, and now I'm paying the price.
Maybe it's not too late to change things. Maybe I still have a shot at making things right. But first, I need to decide if I'm ready to fight for them this time—for real. No more half-hearted attempts or letting my insecurities get the better of me. It's time to confront my feelings head-on and show them just how much they mean to me.
I sit on the park bench and begin to ponder. Really ponder. What if my mom never embraces me for who I am? Do I want to spend my life constantly seeking her validation, or do I want to live on my own terms?
The answer is obvious. If my mom can’t accept me for who I am, then she doesn’t deserve a place in my life. It sounds harsh, but it's the truth I need to face. Her disapproval and negativity have held me back for too long, like a chain around my heart. Without her constant judgment looming over me, I can finally be free to be with who I want.
I bury my face in my hands. The weight of the decision presses down on me. Choosing the guys means losing my family. My mom made that crystal clear. But what do I gain? A family that actually accepts me for who I am.
I remember those nights with Liam, Alex, and James—nights filled with laughter, passion, and a sense of belonging I never felt anywhere else.
Could that be my new normal? Could I trade one family for another?
If I choose the guys, I'll never be welcome in my mom's home again. No more Sunday dinners with her and Aliyah, no more family gatherings where we argue over which movie to watch or who makes the best macaroni and cheese. The thought of losing those memories tug at my heartstrings.
But then I think of Liam’s confident smirk, Alex’s goofy grin, James’s intense gaze. Being with the three of them offers me something real—a chance to be myself without judgment or pretense. A chance to build something new.
The sound of children playing nearby pulls me back to the present. Their laughter rings out across the park, pure and unrestrained. That's what I want—unrestrained joy. And I can have it with them if I'm brave enough to take it.
I sit up straighter on the bench and take a deep breath. This isn’t just about romance; it’s about choosing a life where I’m genuinely happy. It’s about choosing love over fear.
As much as it hurts to think about losing my mom’s approval, I know deep down that living for someone else’s acceptance isn’t really living at all.
The thought solidifies in my mind like cement. Yes, it’ll be hard—damn near impossible some days—but the guys are worth it. We’re worth it.
Pushing myself off the bench, I feel a newfound determination settle over me like armor. If Mom can’t see past her own prejudices to accept me for who I am, then maybe she doesn’t deserve to be part of my life right now.
I pull out my phone and open the group chat with James, Liam and Alex, and hurriedly begin typing.
I send the text before I can change my mind. My thumb hovers over the screen, nerves making my stomach churn.
Can we meet at my place tonight? 7pm. There’s something we need to talk about.
Simple, direct, no room for misunderstanding. Now, I wait.
The park around me buzzes with life. Children’s laughter mingles with the rhythmic slap of joggers’ feet on the pavement. Birds chirp overhead, their melodies blending into the city’s background hum. But all that noise does nothing to quiet the chaos in my head.
What if they don't show up? What if they don't even text back?
I stand and start pacing, the rough bark of the oak tree grazes against my fingertips as I pass it. The minutes stretch on, each one a reminder of how much is at stake. My heart pounds against my ribs like it's trying to escape.
Across the street, a couple argues about something trivial—probably where to eat or who forgot to do the laundry. Their voices rise and fall, but I barely register the words. All I can think about is Liam’s intense blue eyes, Alex’s easy smile, James’s thoughtful gaze.
I glance at my phone for the hundredth time. Nothing. No response.
"What are you doing?" I mutter under my breath, forcing myself to sit back down on the bench. "They’ll come. They have to come."
But doubt gnaws at me. What if they’re done with me for good? What if this second chance is already over before it even begins?
What if they’ve already made up their minds and this meeting doesn’t change anything? My thoughts spiral, each one worse than the last.
I lean back against the bench and close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady myself. If they don’t show up, then what? Will I walk away again? Can I?
No. This time has to be different.