Chapter 67 Lottie
Lottie
The ride to the administrative building feels shorter than it should.
Too short.
As if time is rushing us forward before I’ve had a chance to fully prepare for what’s waiting on the other side of those doors.
But I don’t let myself dwell on that.
I focus on him.
On the way his hand fits in mine—warm, slightly damp, but steady enough. I hold it the entire drive, my thumb brushing over his knuckles in quiet reassurance.
When we step out of the car and walk toward the building, I tell him what I need him to hear.
What I need to hear.
That everything will be okay.
That no matter what happens, we’ll handle it.
Together.
I mean it.
I believe it.
At least… I’m trying to.
But as we near the doors, my mind drifts anyway.
Back to Sandy.
A slow breath leaves me, holding more weight than I expect.
Even after everything—
I can’t pretend I didn’t know.
I knew.
From early on, I knew she had a thing for me.
It started the first semester I met her.
Chemistry class.
I remember walking in that day, keeping to myself like I always did—head down, headphones in, trying to take up as little space as possible. I had already decided I wasn’t there to make friends. I was there to get through school, get my degree, and move on.
When I slipped into my seat and offered her a simple, quiet hello, she responded with, “You’re Lottie, right?” Bright and easy, like we already knew each other. “I’m Sandy. We have Chemistry together three times a week. I noticed you’re always alone, and I wanted to know if you wanted to be friends.”
I remember blinking at her for a moment, caught off guard by how direct she was.
“I have a one-track mind in class and don’t really pay attention to the people around me. If you don’t mind me being buried in my books most of the time, I don’t mind being your friend,” I said after a moment.
She grinned like that was more than enough.
From that point on, she just… stayed.
And somehow, I let her.
Even though I’m not like her.
I don’t reach out. I don’t talk much. I like quiet, routine, space.
Sandy filled all of that.
She talked constantly—about classes, about people, about things that didn’t matter and things that did. She texted the same way, too, rapid-fire messages, memes, half-finished thoughts that she expected me to piece together.
And I did.
Even when I didn’t respond right away, she never stopped.
She just… stayed.
She dragged me into things I never would’ve done on my own.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she’d say, tugging on my sleeve until I gave in.
Parties.
Late-night food runs.
Random drives just to get out of the dorm.
She made me experience things I didn’t even realize I was missing.
And somewhere along the way—
She became important to me.
But even then—
Even in the beginning—
I saw it.
The way her gaze lingered.
The way her voice softened when it was just us.
The touches that lasted just a second too long.
And I knew.
I knew she liked me.
I just chose to ignore it.
Because it was easier.
Easier to keep her as a friend.
Easier than risking losing her.
Easier than having that conversation and watching everything change.
A memory surfaces—clearer now than it ever felt in the moment.
We were sitting in the cafeteria, sharing fries like we always did. She was talking about Sylvie, laughing about something they had done together—something a little too personal, a little too intimate to be shared so casually. But it wasn’t the words that stuck with me.
It was the way she looked at me when she said it.
Not like she was talking about Sylvie.
Like she was imagining me in her place.
Like she was waiting—hoping—for some kind of reaction.
I remember the way my stomach twisted, the way I suddenly became hyper-aware of the space between us.
And I just…
Looked away.
Acted like I hadn’t noticed.
Like it didn’t mean anything.
As if I didn’t understand what she was really saying.
I let the moment pass.
Just like all the others.
I told myself it didn’t matter.
She has Sylvie, I thought. So whatever this is—it won’t go anywhere.
But I knew that wasn’t true.
I just didn’t want to deal with it.
So I didn’t.
I let her sit too close.
Let her touch linger.
Let her look at me like that without ever calling it out.
I told myself it was just how she was.
That she was naturally affectionate.
But deep down—
I knew better.
And now—
Now it’s all catching up to me.
My chest tightens as I glance at Patrick, his hand still wrapped in mine.
This… this is what my silence led to.
This is hurting him.
That thought hits harder than anything else.
I can handle Sandy being upset with me.
I can handle losing her as a friend.
But this?
Seeing him stressed, dragged into something he doesn’t deserve—
Because I didn’t speak up?
I hate it.
I hate that my inaction played a role in this.
I should have said something.
I should have drawn a line.
Made it clear, from the start, that I couldn’t give her what she wanted.
Maybe she would’ve been hurt.
Maybe things would’ve changed.
But it wouldn’t have gotten this far.
It wouldn’t have come to this.
A quiet, frustrated breath leaves me.
I should’ve handled it.
I should’ve done something sooner.
But it’s too late now.
The damage is done.
And the thought that follows is quieter—
But heavier.
Can we even still be friends after this?
I don’t know.
I don’t think so.
Not after what she did.
Not after what this has become.
The realization settles in my chest, slow and final.
And it hurts.
More than I expected it to.
But even that—
Even that doesn’t outweigh what matters most.
I tighten my grip on Patrick’s hand, grounding myself.
What matters now is him.
Is us.
The rest—
I’ll deal with it later.
Right now, we have something bigger to face.
And I’m not letting him face it alone.
Not now.
Not ever.
It’s us—together—no matter what happens.
That truth settles deep in my chest, steady and unshakable, anchoring me in a way nothing else ever has.
He’s my omega, just as surely as I am his alpha, and that bond isn’t something fleeting or fragile. It’s real. It’s ours. He’s mine to protect, to stand beside, to fight for—and I won’t ever take that responsibility lightly. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it head-on. Together, always.