Chapter 113 The Lie That Hurts

Chapter 113 The Lie That Hurts
Kristoff’s POV

FORTY-EIGHT hours.

That was all my father had given me before he exposed Aleli’s past.

I stood near the entrance of the school building, gripping the strap of my bag until my knuckles turned white.

Then I saw her.

Aleli walked toward me with her books pressed against her chest, and the moment her eyes met mine, a small, genuine smile appeared on her face. It was the same relaxed smile she had worn yesterday at the park, the one I had spent months wishing I could see more often.

My heart twisted painfully.

I had to destroy that smile.

If Aleli believed I no longer wanted her around me, she might walk away before my father had the chance to force her away through humiliation. If she hated me, she would distance herself. If she distanced herself, there would be less reason for my father to use her record against her.

I knew exactly what I had to do.

I also knew it might be the hardest thing I had ever done.

Aleli stopped in front of me, but her smile slowly faded when she saw my expression.

“Kristoff?” she asked softly, studying my face. “Are you okay? I texted you last night, but you didn’t reply. I thought maybe you were busy with student council work.”

I forced myself to remain still.

“I wasn’t busy,” I answered, keeping my voice cold and controlled. “I just didn’t feel like replying.”

She blinked, clearly surprised.

“Oh.” She gave a small, uncertain laugh. “Well, that’s fine. I was just wondering if we were still walking home together after class.”

“No.”

The answer came too quickly, but I didn't take it back.

Aleli's eyebrows drew together.

“I have things to take care of,” I added.

“What kind of things?” she asked, stepping slightly closer. “Is it about the missing files? Did something happen with Uncle Jerry?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Aleli,” I said sharply. “Stop asking questions.”

The words visibly hurt her.

Her shoulders stiffened, and the warmth disappeared from her eyes. I wanted to take back every syllable, but I forced myself to stay where I was.

“Did I do something?” she asked quietly. “You’ve been acting strange since this morning. You didn’t even wait for me at the gate like you usually do.”

I looked away for a second before forcing myself to meet her eyes again.

“I have a life outside of watching over you,” I said. “I can’t spend every day babysitting you, Aleli. I have my own future to worry about.”

Her face fell.

“Babysitting?” she repeated, almost as if she couldn't believe the word had come from me. “Is that what I am to you now? A chore?”

“You are a distraction.”

The lie tasted bitter.

I swallowed before continuing.

“Yesterday was a mistake. We got carried away, and I let myself forget my responsibilities. It won’t happen again.”

She stared at me as though she were trying to find the boy she had known beneath the words I was throwing at her.

I gave her nothing.

For the rest of the day, I continued the lie.

When Aleli approached me between classes, I kept my answers short. When she sat across from me in the library, I gathered my things and moved to another room without explanation. At lunch, she approached our usual table, but I stood before she could sit and walked away.

I knew what I was doing.

Every time I ignored her, I was hurting her.

Every time I refused to look at her, I was breaking another piece of what we had built.

But every time I imagined my father's folder opening and her juvenile record being placed in front of the entire school, I reminded myself that this pain was temporary.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

By the end of the afternoon, the rain had returned.

I stood beneath the covered walkway near the main entrance, waiting for the family car. A few feet away, Aleli stood with an unlit umbrella in her hand, staring at the rain as though she couldn't decide whether to leave or stay.

She looked exhausted.

Then she turned toward me.

Our eyes met.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Finally, she walked over.

She stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could see the tears already gathering in her eyes.

“Just tell me the truth, Kristoff,” she pleaded. “Please. Yesterday, you told me you had been trying to impress me since the day we met. You told me you noticed everything about me. You held my hand in the park, and you promised you wouldn’t regret choosing a day that made me smile.”

My throat tightened.

I shoved my hands into my blazer pockets and clenched them into fists, pressing my fingernails into my palms to keep myself from reaching for her.

“People say things they don’t mean when they’re caught up in the moment,” I said.

Her expression crumpled slightly.

“It was just a nice morning,” I continued, forcing each word out. “Don’t read too much into it.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked.

I looked at her.

“Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it,” she continued, her voice trembling. “Why are you treating me like this? If I made a mistake, tell me what it was. I don't understand what happened between yesterday and today.”

Every part of me wanted to answer.

I wanted to tell her that she had done nothing wrong.

I wanted to tell her that my father had threatened to expose the most painful part of her childhood.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her enough to let her hate me if it meant keeping her safe.

Instead, I forced my face to remain emotionless.

“You didn't do anything,” I said quietly.

She stared at me.

“Then why?”

I couldn't answer.

Because the truth was too cruel to say aloud.

I was trying to save her by becoming the person she would eventually hate.

The black sedan pulled up to the curb, its headlights cutting through the rain. The driver stepped out with an umbrella and opened the rear door.

Aleli looked at me one last time.

I could see the question still in her eyes.

I couldn't give her an answer.

So I turned away.

I walked toward the car without looking back, even though every step felt like I was walking away from the only person I had ever wanted to protect more than myself.

The door closed behind me.

As the sedan pulled away from the school, I finally allowed myself to look through the window.

Aleli was still standing beneath the covered walkway.

Alone.

I pressed my fist against my mouth and shut my eyes.

Forty-eight hours had suddenly become the longest countdown of my life.

And if hurting her was the only way to keep my father from destroying her, then I would carry the blame.

Even if she never forgave me for it.