Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Edwina
“Have you tried the new café by the square?” Gwen asked, her eyes bright as we crossed the courtyard together, the March breeze tugging at her scarf. “Everyone’s been raving about their cappuccinos. I think it’s criminal if we don’t check it out.”
Aster laughed, adjusting her tote on her shoulder. “Gwen, it’s the middle of class time. You do realize that, right?”
Gwen waved a dismissive hand. “So what? One lecture won’t kill us. Besides, you two could use a distraction.” Her gaze flicked toward me, too direct to be casual. “Especially you.”
I forced a small smile, the kind meant to deflect more than agree. My chest felt heavy, the silence of the last few days pressing harder than I wanted to admit.
Aster nudged me gently. “Come on, Edie. She’s not wrong. You’ve been buried in work and symposium chaos. Coffee sounds better than staring at Stone’s poker face for another hour.”
The sound of his name tightened something in me, but I kept my expression smooth. “Fine,” I said quietly, adjusting the strap of my bag. “Coffee, then.”
And with that, instead of heading toward the lecture hall, the three of us turned down the narrow street leading into town, our laughter weaving through the crisp air, the world humming with the restless pulse of early spring.
I didn’t know it then, but that small decision, to skip a class and follow my friends into something as harmless as a café, would change everything.
The café was smaller than I expected, warm and bright, the scent of roasted beans curling through the air the moment we stepped inside.
Sunlight poured across wooden tables, catching in the steam that rose from cups and the gleam of glass over the pastry counter.
It should have been ordinary, comforting even, the kind of place students filled with easy chatter and the quiet clatter of mugs.
Aster was already scanning the chalkboard menu, Gwen tugging her toward the display case, their voices low and teasing.
I followed behind them, my coat still damp at the edges from the drizzle, my hands gripping the strap of my bag to keep them steady.
And then my gaze wandered farther in.
The moment I saw him, the air vanished from my lungs.
Hayden. He sat near the window, shoulders tense in that familiar way, the light glinting off his glasses as though even here he carried the storm with him. But he wasn’t alone.
Across from him sat a woman.
Beautiful. Effortlessly so. Her coat was pale against the dark wood of the chair, her posture elegant, every movement deliberate.
Waves of golden-brown hair framed her face, catching the light with the sheen of silk, her lips curved in a poised, knowing smile.
She was the kind of woman who seemed to belong to another world entirely, polished, untouchable, the sort of presence that drew attention without ever needing to ask for it.
For a heartbeat, I simply stared, my body stiffening, my pulse climbing higher with each second. My mind scrambled for an explanation. A colleague. A guest. Someone connected to the job offer he hadn’t told me about. Anything but what my gut already whispered.
And then he lifted his head, as if pulled by some invisible tether, and his eyes collided with mine.
The world stilled.
Shock surged through me so violently my knees weakened, my hand tightening around the edge of the counter just to stay upright.
I didn’t breathe. I couldn’t. His gaze held me there, wide and unreadable, while the woman across from him turned to follow his line of sight.
Her eyes found me, her smile sharpening, as though she had been waiting for this exact moment.
My legs carried me forward before my mind could catch up, each step deliberate, each breath sharp and shallow. Aster and Gwen were still debating pastries at the counter, their laughter faint in the background, oblivious to the collision unraveling only a few steps away.
I should have turned back. I should have pretended not to notice. But instead, I drew my coat tighter around me and crossed the café, my spine rigid, my expression calm though my heart thundered violently in my chest.
“Good afternoon, Professor Stone.” My voice didn’t shake, though everything else in me did.
Hayden’s jaw tightened, a flicker in his eyes betraying something darker, but before he could speak, the woman across from him rose smoothly to her feet.
She was even more striking up close, her beauty effortless, her smile perfectly poised. She extended her hand toward me, her tone sweet and deliberate.
“You must be Edwina,” she said, her voice carrying the kind of elegance sharpened into weaponry. “I’m Alessia. Hayden’s fiancée.”
The air detonated around me.
My hand went cold, my breath caught in my throat, and for a moment the entire café blurred at the edges. I searched her face, her perfect smile, then his, then back again, my mind refusing to process the words, my chest tightening until I thought I might collapse right there.
Fiancée.
The word slammed into me, over and over, a sound so brutal I thought my chest might split open. A fucking fiancée. He was engaged. He had been engaged all this time. He had a fiancée.
My hand tightened around the strap of my bag, my knuckles white, my throat too dry to swallow.
The room tilted, blurred, then sharpened again, and all I could do was stare at her perfect face, her perfect smile, then at him, the man who had kissed me, claimed me, consumed me, and realize that I hadn’t known him at all.
And still, his eyes were on me, unblinking, dark and desperate, as though he knew exactly what he had just destroyed.
My chest burned, tears pricking behind my eyes, sharp and relentless, but I refused to let them fall here, not in front of her, not in front of him.
Not when Alessia’s hand was still hanging between us like the sharpest blade, not when his eyes were still locked on mine with that haunted, desperate look that made it hurt even more.
So I did the only thing left to me.
I smiled.
A genuine smile, bright and soft, the kind I had practiced for years to hide every crack beneath my skin. It felt foreign on my face, trembling at the edges, but it held. I turned on my heel, my bag strap tight in my fist, and walked back toward the counter where Aster and Gwen waited, oblivious.
They looked up at me, laughing, Gwen already pointing to a tray of pastries. But I slipped the smile into place, my throat raw, and said evenly, “I think I’d like to go home.”
Aster blinked, her brow creasing. “Home? But—”
“Please.” My voice was quiet, almost too calm, but they heard the finality in it. I swallowed hard against the tears that burned at the edges of my eyes, unshed and furious, and forced the smile to linger just a little longer. “I just…I want to go home.”
It was Aster whose eyes sharpened first. She tilted her head, her gaze following mine, trailing across the café until it landed on the table by the window. On him. On Hayden.
“I hope this isn’t because of him,” she said quietly, her voice cutting through the warmth of the café as glass against skin.
My breath caught. For a moment, every excuse I could have given scattered before they even formed. I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag, my chest aching with the weight of what I couldn’t tell her, of what would never make sense if spoken aloud.
“Please,” I said, my voice fragile in a way I hated. “I just want to go home. And…stay a bit alone.”
Aster frowned, her suspicion plain, her eyes narrowing as though she wanted to press, to dig until she reached the truth, but Gwen laid a hand on her arm, glancing between us with concern.
“Are you sure?” Gwen asked softly. “You don’t look—”
“I’m sure,” I cut in, sharper than I intended, the smile trembling on my lips but refusing to break. I drew in a breath, steadied myself, and softened my tone. “I just need some air. Please.”
Aster’s eyes lingered on me for a long moment, then back on him, and the weight of her unspoken questions pressed against me so hard I thought I might suffocate. But neither of them stopped me.
The bell above the café door chimed as I pushed it open, the March drizzle greeting me with a damp chill that sank straight into my bones.
My steps were sharp and quick, every one of them meant to put distance between myself and that place, from the glow of warm lights and clattering cups, from the woman who had smiled at me with the cruelty of a blade, from the man who had sat there and let her.
My chest ached so violently I thought I might splinter in two, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
Until a hand clamped around my wrist.
I gasped, my body jolting, stumbling to the side as his grip tightened, firm, unrelenting, pulling me backward with a force that refused to be denied.
“Hayden—”
He said nothing at first, his jaw locked, his face carved into stone, and before I could tear myself free, he dragged me toward the curb where his car waited, dark and still as a shadow.
My bag slipped from my shoulder, thudding against my hip.
I shoved at his chest, hard, but he didn’t move, he never did.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I snapped, my voice breaking through the drizzle, fury and disbelief clawing through my throat. I yanked against his grip, but his hold only burned tighter around my wrist. “Leave me the hell alone, Hayden!”
His head snapped toward me, his eyes wild, dark, unsteady in a way that made something inside me twist. “No.” His voice came rough, gravel scraping against steel. “You think you can just walk out, Edwina? You think you can look at me like that and turn your back as if none of this exists?”
“None of this—?” My chest heaved, my breath caught and painful. “You sat there with her. With your fiancée. You have a damn fiancée. Do you even fucking understand what that felt like? Do you understand what you just did to me?”