Chapter 63: He finally moved on

Alan's POV.

I stood outside Milie's house long after she disappeared inside.

Nothing made sense. One second, she had been blushing.

Next, she cried and ran away.

The last ten minutes flashed across my eyes.

The white top, the black jeans, and the new shoes I had gifted her.

The way she looked down when her father complimented her.

The way my heart nearly stopped when I saw her standing there.

She looked beautiful. Not just because of the clothes, but because she looked nervous.

And for some reason, that made me nervous too.

Then everything fell apart.

"Alan?" Emma's voice pulled me back.

Right. Emma was still waiting. I turned around.

She stood beside the car, watching me carefully.

Sammy was nowhere to be seen. "Good."

"For the first time since meeting him, I am irritated with him.

"He was continuously connecting me with Emma. He even labeled a casual meeting as a date."

I rubbed the back of my neck, approaching Emma.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. My mind was still with Milie.

The tears in her eyes. The way she had looked at me. As if I had done something terrible.

"Emma..."

She smiled sadly. "Yeah?"

I exhaled. I couldn't drag this any longer. Not after last night. Not after what happened now.

"I don't know what everyone has been assuming."

Her smile faded slightly.

"But this wasn't a date."

She looked at me, tears filling her eyes.

I continued gently. "I asked if we could talk. I didn't answer you yesterday because everyone was there."

She nodded, sensing where this conversation was going.

"I didn't want to reject you in front of everyone."

A small laugh escaped her through teary eyes. "That's such an Alan thing to do."

I smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, Emma."

She closed her eyes briefly. I hated seeing the pain on her face, but I had no option.

"Is it because of her?" Her voice came out soft.

I knew exactly who she meant. And for the first time, I didn't try to hide it.

"Yeah."

A silence followed, and finally she nodded. "I thought so."

"Emma..."

"No." She forced a smile. "Don't."

She took a deep breath. "Can I ask one thing?"

"Anything."

"Do you think she loves you back?"

The question struck harder than expected.

I always felt she did, but that's crazy, Milie. No one could be certain.

I laughed softly. "I honestly have no clue."

She stared at me. Then she shook her head.

"You really are hopeless."

"Hahaha… I've been told."

She stepped closer and punched my shoulder. "Go."

"Huh?"

"Go and figure out why she ran away. Otherwise, you won't be at peace.

I stared at her for a moment. "I'm really—"

"Alan, just go, Man."

I walked back, and she, too, turned around to leave, guilt twisting in my chest.

She was not angry. She was disappointed, and it made it even worse.

I watched her leave before immediately pulling out my phone.

I called Milie. No answer.

I frowned and called again. Now it went straight to voicemail.

I exhaled, anxiety, and curiosity, elevating every second.

I typed quickly.

Alan: Mils. Talk to me.

Alan: I'm waiting outside our house.

I stared at the screen. Nothing.

"Is she angry, upset or both? Is it because of Emma?"

Just then, my phone suddenly rang.

Sammy. I answered immediately.

"Where are you?"

"In the mess you created. What’s wrong with you, Man?"

He laughed.

"What happened?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

His amusement faded. "You talked to Emma?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"You know. I don’t like her. I was not going on any date."

"Good."

I frowned.

"Good? You sound relieved."

"Because confusion makes everything worse."

That was annoyingly wise for Sammy.

"You are up to something, aren't you?"

"You even know why Milie ran away? Yeah?"

"Maybe."

"Then tell me."

"No."

"What?"

"No."

I groaned. "Sammy."

"You need to hear it from her."

"She's not responding."

"Then go to her."

I glanced toward Milie's house. "Her parents are home."

"Not for so long."

My brows pulled together. "Huh."

"Alan," His tone turned serious. "Make sure she talks. Don't leave this unfinished."

"What does—" Before I could ask further, he hung up.

I stared at the phone, then toward Milie's driveway. To my surprise, her parents were walking out of the house.

My eyes widened. I looked at my phone. "Sammy definitely knows something, and I need to find out."

A strange feeling settled in my chest. I rushed to her house. The door was unlocked.

"Mils?" No answer. I stepped inside. The house was quiet, too quiet.

"Mils?" I climbed the stairs, my heartbeat picking up, not from fear, but from anticipation.

I reached her bedroom door and knocked on it.

Silence. I knocked again.

"Mom, if you bothered me one more time, I swear I'm not going shopping with you next weekend."

Despite everything, I almost smiled. Only Milie would use shopping as a threat.

Like seriously. I rolled my eyes and knocked again. "Mils, It's me."

Silence followed, and then— "Go away." She yelled even louder.

I leaned against the door. "Not happening."

"Alan, leave me alone."

"Mils, I'm not…. Not until we talk."

She groaned. "I said go."

I could practically picture her throwing a pillow. "Open the door. Else, I will come inside. I have keys to your room."

She left no option. I had to be creative.

"Traitors… Everyone," She screamed.

"Mils, I'm getting in." Before I could push her further, the doorknob finally turned.

And there she stood. Red eyes, messy hair, and changed back to her usual oversized T-shirt.

She stepped back, looking away. I stepped inside to find the room in a complete disaster.

Clothes everywhere—on the chair, on the bed, and on the floor.

A half-open closet, and a pillow that had clearly suffered emotional damage.

I folded my arms. "What happened?"

She too folded her arms, trying to stay strong, defensive as always. "Nothing."

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't wanna talk." She looked away.

"Mils, you have to. Talk to me."

"No." She shook her head, her strong facade almost collapsing.

"Mils." I walked closer. She backed away. I walked closer again until she hit the edge of her bed.

"Tell me, what's bothering you?"

"I said nothing."

"Then look at me and say it."

She couldn't. Instead, she plopped onto the bed, her body completely relaxed.

That told me everything. I crouched in front of her and held her hands in mine. "Mils."

She finally looked at me, her bottom lip trembling.

My chest tightened. I hated this. I hated seeing her hurt.

For a while, I just stared at her. She closed her eyes, and the words just exploded out of her. "I hate this, Alan."

"Hate what?"

"I hate seeing you with Emma. In fact, I can't bear seeing you with any other girl."

I froze. Her words struck me like lightning.

"I don't like when girls flirt with you, when anyone touches you."

She was shaking now. Crying openly, and still talking. "I hate that I don't even have the right to stop you, Alan."

My heart stopped. My entire world narrowed to her face, to her words, to her.

Because suddenly everything from the last twenty-four hours was starting to make sense.

Emma's confession, her escape to the terrace, her returning my gift, the tears, the jealousy, and the way she ran away a few minutes back.

I almost laughed. Not because it was funny. Because this girl was unbelievably impossible.

She had practically confessed that she couldn't stand seeing me with another woman.

And somehow she still believed I wanted Emma.

Classic Milie.

"I know I shouldn't feel this way," she whispered.

I squeezed her hands. "Feel what way, Mils?"