Chapter 22 Chapter 21
10/70
Harper POV
I don’t remember leaving his room.
One second there was his voice — low, shocked — saying my name.
And the next, I was running.
Down the stairs.
Out the door.
Into the cold.
The night air hits like a slap, freezing and brutal, scraping against my lungs. Campus lights smear into streaks, my vision glassy and too bright. My heels click too fast across the sidewalk, every step like a heartbeat that doesn’t know how to slow down.
I went there for paperwork.
For a sponsorship.
For something responsible. Professional. Normal.
I didn’t go to see… that.
I bite the inside of my cheek hard, like pain could erase the image burned into my skull. It doesn’t. It never does.
By the time I reach Alpha Chi, my fingers are numb and I’m shaking — adrenaline, humiliation, anger, all braided so tight I can’t separate them.
The front door swings open and warm vanilla sorority-house air floods me. The living room glows soft gold, fairy lights twinkling like nothing bad ever happens here.
I take one step inside before Lila looks up from the couch.
She freezes. “What the hell happened to you?”
My voice scrapes. “Nothing.”
“Oh, that’s the voice of someone who just walked in on a crime scene.” She pops up and grabs my wrist. “Spill.”
“Not now.”
“Right now.” She drags me deeper inside like she’s shielding me from the world. “Sit. Talk. Breathe. Or I’m calling a campus therapist.”
Her tone leaves no room for argument. I sink onto the couch, coat still on, heart trying to rip its way out of my chest.
She studies me, expression sharpening. “It was Logan, wasn’t it?”
A shaky breath. “Yes.”
“What did that ice-brained Neanderthal do now?”
“He didn’t… do anything.” I swallow bile. “I did. I went there.”
Lila’s eyebrows shoot up. “You went to his place?”
“He missed the Fairfield Bank meeting. I was worried the sponsor would drop us. I thought maybe if I could get him to sign the partnership forms tonight, we’d still be okay.”
“So you went to handle business,” she says slowly. “And instead you saw—?”
I close my eyes.
Her knees on his bed.
His shirt half-off.
Her lips too close to his.
His face — startled, guilty, caught.
My stomach twists. “I saw enough.”
Silence drops between us like a stone.
Lila inhales slowly, her jaw tightening. “That absolute— piece of— expired— freezer-burned fish stick.”
A hysterical almost-laugh escapes me. I cover my face with my hands.
“I feel pathetic.”
“You feel human,” she corrects. “And totally justified.”
“I shouldn’t care.” It comes out paper-thin. “I shouldn’t give a damn what he does. Or who he does.”
“But you do.” Her voice is gentle, not judgmental. “And that doesn’t make you weak. It makes you honest.”
I look away, eyes stinging. “I wasn’t there to… fight or flirt or whatever messed-up thing this is. I went because he missed something important. Something I trusted him with.”
“And he was busy having a make-out session with a discount music-video extra,” she snaps.
“She was gorgeous.” The whisper slips out before I can stop it. “And confident. And his type.”
“You are nobody’s second-choice type,” Lila fires back.
“But I’m not his first, either.”
That hurts more than anything else.
Lila exhales slowly. “You’ve known him forever. You liked him forever. That doesn’t turn off overnight.”
“I wish it would.” My voice breaks. “I hate this.”
“I know.” She squeezes my knee. “And I hate him for making you feel this way.”
“He didn’t make me.” I swallow, throat raw. “I did that to myself.”
She looks at me for a long moment. “You joined this sorority to start over, didn’t you?”
I blink. “What?”