Twenty One #3
The air outside is cool and sharp, the stars scattered across the sky like tiny pinpricks of light. The music and laughter from the marquee grow fainter with each step as I make my way toward the lake.
I wrap my arms around myself, shivering, though it has nothing to do with the cold.
What am I doing?
The thought pounds in my head like a drumbeat.
I can’t do this—pretending everything is fine.
Pretending I’m not completely falling apart under the weight of what’s happening between us.
I reach the edge of the lake and stare out at the still water, the reflection of the moon rippling faintly with the soft breeze. This was always my favorite spot growing up—a place to escape, to breathe. But tonight, it feels heavy and suffocating, just like everything else.
I reach the edge of the lake and stare out at the still water.
It’s surface a black mirror under the moonlight.
My arms fold tightly across my chest as if they can shield me from the storm brewing inside me.
Every inch of me is taut, ready to snap under the pressure I’ve been holding back all night.
I hear him before I see him.
The crunch of his footsteps on the gravel, the way his breath hitches as he approaches. Of course, he followed me.
But I don’t turn around. I can’t.
“Mia,” he calls softly, his voice carrying that edge of patience he’s always had for me. The one that drives me crazy because I don’t deserve it.
I freeze, my stomach twisting painfully.
“Go back to the party, Austin,” I say, my voice flat and hollow. I don’t trust myself to say anything more.
He doesn’t listen to me. Of course, he doesn’t. I hear the steps grow louder until he’s beside me, standing close enough that I can feel the warmth of his presence.
“No,” he says simply, his voice firm. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Bollocks,” he snaps, and I flinch. He never raises his voice, not with me. “You can’t keep running from me,”
I clench my jaw and finally look at him. His tie is undone, and his white dress shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, exposing a hint of the tanned skin beneath. His hair is a mess, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes—God, those eyes—are full of so much frustration and concern it makes my chest ache.
“I’m not running,” I lie, even as I take a small step back.
“Yes, you are,” he says, stepping closer to close the distance again. His voice softens, but there’s steel underneath it. “You’ve been running from me all night. Hell, maybe longer than that. What’s going on, Mia? What are you so afraid of?”
The words slice through me because they’re too close to the truth. My defenses rise instinctively, my voice sharper than I mean it to be. “I’m not afraid. I just needed some air. Is that a crime now?”
He narrows his eyes, his hands settling on his hips as he stares me down. “Don’t give me that shit. This isn’t about air, or the party, or anything else you’re going to use as an excuse. It’s about us.”
“There is no us, Austin,” I snap, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
He freezes for a beat, his face hardening. “Don’t do that, Mia.” He shakes his head vigorously. “Don’t pretend this doesn’t mean something to you. I know it does. I see it every time you look at me, every time we’re together.”
I laugh bitterly, the sound hollow in the stillness of the night. “You think you know me so well, don’t you?”
“I do know you,” he fires back, his voice rising. “Better than anyone else ever has. And I know you’re scared. I just don’t know why.”
“Because this was never supposed to happen!” I yell, my voice cracking. “This was supposed to be simple, Austin. Just a stupid arrangement to get Amber off my back. That’s it.”
He takes a step closer, his jaw tight. “It stopped being simple a long time ago, Mia. And you know it.”
His words hang between us, heavy and unrelenting, as the truth I’ve been trying so hard to bury rises to the surface.
I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll break, and I can’t afford to do that.
“You have a future, Austin,” I say quietly, my voice trembling. “A real one. That job in York—it’s everything you’ve ever worked for. You can’t throw it all away for me.”
He stares at me, his eyes blazing. “Fuck sake! Is this what it’s all about? I don’t give a damn about the job if it means losing you.”
The rawness in his voice is like a punch to the gut. I shake my head, my throat tightening. “You’ll regret it,” I whisper.
“No,” he says, his voice firm. “The only thing I’ll regret is walking away from you. Don’t ask me to do that, Mia. Please.”
Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back, refusing to let them fall. “You don’t understand,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’m not the person you think I am. I’ll ruin you, Austin. I’ll hold you back.”
“You won’t,” he says, stepping closer until we’re inches apart.
“I already am!” I say, looking down at the ground as I continue to fight back tears.
“Mia, look at me,” Austin says calmly. “You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’m not giving up on you. Not now, not ever. I love you.”
His words shatter something inside me, and the pain is unbearable.
I love him.
I love him so much it hurts. But I can’t let him do this.
“I don’t love you,” I snarl, the lie slicing through me like a blade.
Austin stares at me, his expression crumbling as the words sink in. “What did you just say?”
“I don’t love you,” I repeat, forcing the words out even as my heart feels like it’s being ripped to shreds. “This . . . whatever this is . . . it’s not real, Austin. It never was.”
He steps back, his face pale and drawn. “You’re lying,” he says, his voice shaking. “I know you’re lying.”
I cross my arms over my chest, my nails digging into my skin as I force myself to meet his gaze. “Believe what you want, but it doesn’t change the truth. You need to let this go. Let me go.”
For a moment, he just stares at me. His eyes searching mine for something—anything—that will tell him I don’t mean it.
But I hold my ground, even as it feels like I’m dying inside.
“Fine,” he says finally, his voice hollow. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll go. But don’t expect me to come back, Mia. If you say we are done, then we are done.”
He turns and walks away, his footsteps heavy on the grass. I watch him go, my vision blurring as tears spill down my cheeks.
The moment he disappears into the shadows, my knees give out, and I collapse onto the ground, sobs wracking my body.
I love him. God, I love him more than anything. But I don’t know how to be enough for him.
And now, I’ve lost him for good.