Chapter 133
Dominic's POV
We lock eyes.
Mine narrow.
He slowly pulls away from me, his attention shifting back to Ellie.
And I hear it.
That voice.
That soft, careful voice Lucas only uses with her.
The one that sounds like he thinks she's something fragile.
Something worth protecting.
I straighten.
Step away from the door before anyone can open it and catch me standing there like an idiot.
Because that's exactly what I am.
An idiot.
And besides...
He's the one she wanted to see.
Not me.
The next day, I see her in the hallway.
The first thing I notice is how pale she is.
Not the dress she's wearing.
Not Lucas walking beside her like an anxious guard dog.
Not even the way everyone seems to be watching her.
Her face.
She looks exhausted.
Wrong.
Like someone drained all the color out of her overnight.
I don't know what happened.
I don't know why.
But something is clearly wrong.
She doesn't look like someone who simply fainted yesterday.
She looks like someone who hasn't been taking care of herself at all.
One hand presses against her temple as she walks.
Her movements are careful.
Controlled.
Like she's afraid that if she moves too quickly, the world will tilt beneath her.
Then she stumbles.
Barely.
But Lucas catches her instantly.
Of course he does.
My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag until my knuckles turn white.
I want to say something.
Anything.
But I know myself.
If I open my mouth, it won't come out as a concern.
It'll come out sharp.
Accusing.
And she doesn't need that.
Not right now.
So I do the only thing I can.
Something that doesn't start another fight.
I leave medicine and a bottle of water in her locker.
No note.
No name.
No explanation.
I don't stay to watch her find it.
The day after that...
It's worse.
And no.
I'm not following her.
I'm not watching her.
I just...
Happen to see her.
That's all.
She's leaning heavily against Lucas.
So heavily that I'm surprised he isn't struggling too.
A crutch supports her other side.
And the sight of it makes my jaw tighten.
Hard.
This isn't fine.
I keep telling myself that.
I keep reminding myself:
She's with him.
If something was wrong, Lucas would know.
Lucas would tell someone.
She chose him.
He chose her.
I'm not part of this anymore.
I have no right.
No place.
Still...
I watch.
Because something doesn't make sense.
Ellie has never looked at Lucas the way someone looks at the person they love.
There are no intertwined fingers.
No unconscious touches.
No leaning into him because she wants to be close.
Only because she needs support.
No quiet smiles.
No teasing comments.
No little moments that happen without thinking.
Lucas doesn't look like her boyfriend.
He looks like someone taking care of her.
And maybe that's all it is.
Maybe they're both just trying to figure out what they are.
Maybe they're both too confused to know how to act.
I don't know.
I hate that I don't know.
I let out a slow breath.
Irritation twists together with something else.
Something I don't want to name.
Because stress doesn't do this.
Stress doesn't make someone look like they're disappearing.
And whatever is happening to Ellie...
Whatever is pulling her down...
It isn't going away.