Chapter 58: Fifty Eight

I stood outside Jacob’s door. I felt so tired, so exhausted. The conversation with Declan, the fight. God. And now this. I felt like I wanted to collapse.

But I wanted to apologise to Jacob. More than that, I wanted to, no, needed to ensure he wouldn’t tell anyone about this.

I had already knocked on the door twice. I had been calling his name. I could hear music faintly inside but I knew it wasn’t loud enough for him not to have heard me.

I raised my hand to knock again, but the door swung open before I could.

Jacob stood there, hoodie on, face unreadable. His eyes flicked to mine, cold and distant.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice low, tight.

“I just…” I hesitated. “I wanted to talk. Just once. Please.”

His jaw ticked. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say, Willow.”

“Please,” I said again, softer this time.

For a moment, he just stared at me. I thought he’d shut the door in my face.

But then he sighed, the sound heavy and tired, and stepped aside.

“Make it quick.”

I sat on the edge of Jacob’s couch, my hands twisted tightly in my lap, while he sat down on the chair across from me. I had been in his house once before. We had had so much soju in this living room. Him, and Mara, and me.

The sudden realisation struck me that after this incident, I basically had no friends left in my university anymore.

The tension in the room was so thick you could slice it with a knife. His arms were crossed, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

I looked at him and felt something twist inside me.

Guilt.

It was an ugly emotion.

The bruise on his cheek was darkening now, the faint purples and reds blooming across the skin beneath his eye. My chest ached with guilt. I couldn’t stop seeing Declan’s fist colliding with Jacob’s face. I couldn’t stop remembering the stunned, betrayed look Jacob gave me afterward. The sadness in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse.

Jacob didn’t move.

“For what?” he asked finally, his tone hollow. “For letting him hit me? For kissing me while you were still screwing around with him? Or for lying every step of the way?”

The words hit me like a slap.

I deserved it, though.

I opened my mouth to respond but couldn’t find anything that would make any of this okay.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” I said finally. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

His laugh was bitter, humorless. “That’s the thing with you, Willow. You never mean to hurt anyone. You just do.”

I felt like I was shrinking under the weight of his words.

“I didn’t want you to get dragged into this. That’s what I meant. That’s what I’m sorry for.”

He stepped closer, arms still crossed, his gaze narrowing. “Dragged into what, exactly? The lie you’ve been living? Or the fantasy you’ve been trying to protect?” He sighed hard, his nostrils flaring in anger. “Fuck, Willow. You’re fucking our professor?”

My eyes drifted to the bruise again, my hand twitching in my lap. Slowly, carefully, I reached out, my fingers brushing just beneath the discoloration.

He flinched away instantly.

“Don’t,” he said sharply.

I pulled back, shame burning in my throat.

“You know,” Jacob said, staring down at me, “I liked you from the beginning. But you kept me at arm’s length. And you gave me all these mixed signals. I thought maybe it was because you were guarded. Maybe you were scared. But now I know,” he broke off, jaw clenching again, “now I know it was because you were already his.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I whispered.

He sank further into his chair, rubbing his hand down his face.

“I was confused,” I continued, ashamed of how hollow the words sounded. It sounded like an excuse. But it was true. I had been so conflicted, so taxed. “It started before the semester. We didn’t know who we were to each other at first, and by the time we figured it out, it was already complicated.”

“Complicated,” Jacob repeated bitterly. “Right. Because he’s your professor. Your superior. That’s not complicated, Willow. That’s a fucking disaster.”

I stared at the floor, swallowing hard.

“I love him,” I said quietly.

The silence that followed that felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

When I looked up, Jacob was staring at me in disbelief.

“You what?”

“I love him,” I repeated, softer now. “I didn’t plan it. I tried to fight it. But I do. And he loves me, too.”

Jacob looked like I had hit him.

His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then what was all this with me?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Don’t give me that,” he snapped, standing again. “You let me kiss you. You let me stay at your place. You knew what I felt.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on. You are my friend, Jacob. And you know, how much I value that.”

“But you did,” he cut in. “You let me believe there was a chance. You kept me around like a backup plan. And you let me get punched because of it.”

“I didn’t ask Declan to do that,” I said sharply. “I told him he was wrong. I told him it wasn’t okay.”

Jacob laughed again, shaking his head. “Wow. Good for you. Glad you set your boyfriend straight after he assaulted someone.”

“Jacob, please.”

“Don’t.” His voice was cold. “Don’t act like you’re the victim here.”

I bit down hard on my bottom lip, tears threatening, but I refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of him. Not after everything I’d done.

“I just wanted to explain. I wanted to apologize. And I wanted to ask you…” I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

At that, his entire demeanor snapped. His eyes flashed with fury.

“Of course I won’t tell anyone,” he said, voice sharp. He laughed a humorless laugh. “For some fucked up reason, I still don’t want you to get hurt. And for what it’s worth, Willow. He doesn’t love you. You’re being taken advantage of.”

“It’s not like that.” I whispered. “You won’t get it.”

He looked away then, like he couldn’t even stand to look at me anymore.

I stood slowly. “I’ll go, now.” I whispered.

Jacob didn’t respond.