Chapter 72 Lottie
Patrick and I slipped into a rhythm over the days that followed.
Not forced.
Not awkward.
Just… natural.
Like something that had always been waiting to happen.
I started driving my car more, mostly because I was coming and going from his place instead of my dorm. On the days I had class, I’d leave from his house early, bundled up against the cold, while he’d head out later for his own schedule. We still drove separately—had to, given timing—but it felt different knowing we were both leaving from the same place.
From our place.
I hadn’t been back to my dorm in days.
The realization hit me one morning as I was grabbing my bag from his room. I paused, blinking like I’d forgotten something important… only to realize it was just distance.
I laughed quietly to myself.
I was starting to sound like Charlie—never in his dorm, always somewhere else, somewhere that mattered more.
Only for me—
That place was Patrick.
I wanted to be near him.
So I stayed.
On the days I had class, he’d wake me up with breakfast… and quiet affection that made it harder to leave than I’d like to admit.
On the days we were both off, I’d return the favor—getting up first, making something simple, then coaxing him awake just so we could spend the day tangled together, talking, laughing, or doing nothing at all.
It felt… easy.
Right.
Like something I didn’t want to lose.
Sandy, on the other hand…
Didn’t seem to understand that things had changed.
She tried talking to me a few times that first week.
I ignored her.
Completely.
I moved my seat in class, deliberately choosing the back just to put distance between us. It didn’t matter where I sat—as long as I was paying attention, I’d be fine.
And I was.
Better than I had been in weeks.
Still, I could feel her eyes on me sometimes.
Those lingering, searching looks.
I refused to acknowledge them.
She texted me, too.
The first time, I told her plainly that I didn’t want to talk.
That should’ve been enough.
It wasn’t.
She kept messaging.
So I blocked her.
That should’ve definitely been enough.
Still not.
She started following me.
Walking beside me to chemistry like nothing had happened—even when I didn’t say a word.
Sitting at my table in the cafeteria—even when I acted like she didn’t exist.
Day after day.
Relentless.
At first, I ignored it.
Then it started to grate.
Then it started to boil.
By the time a week had passed, I was done.
Completely.
I whirl around on her as she trails me toward the cafeteria again, my patience finally snapping.
“What?!” I demand, my voice sharper than I intended—but I don’t take it back. “What do you want?”
She flinches immediately, stopping in her tracks.
For a second, she just stands there, like she didn’t expect me to actually react.
“I just…” she starts, voice small. “I just want you to talk to me, Lottie. Please.”
Her hands twist together nervously.
“I don’t want what happened to ruin our friendship.”
I stare at her.
Really look at her.
And something inside me just… hardens.
“You don’t get it,” I say slowly, shaking my head.
Her expression falters.
“You don’t get it,” I repeat, sharper now. “Your jealousy—your choices—put my omega in a stressful situation.”
She opens her mouth, but I don’t let her speak.
“If you were really my friend,” I continue, stepping closer, “you would’ve come to me. You would’ve talked to me—however many times it took—until you got an answer you were satisfied with.”
My voice tightens.
“But no.”
I laugh bitterly.
“Sylvie wasn’t enough, was she?”
She flinches again.
“You wanted me too,” I press. “So what—you thought you could fix things? Force a situation where I’d be free for you?”
Her eyes widen, but I don’t stop.
“Newsflash, Sandy—I never felt that way about you. Not once.”
The words land hard.
“I was actually relieved when you started dating Sylvie,” I add, quieter but no less cutting. “I thought that meant you’d finally let it go.”
I shake my head.
“But some people can’t just be happy with what they have,” I mutter. “They have to ruin things.”
She’s pale now.
Silent.
“One more time,” I say, my voice dropping low, controlled. “You only had to come talk to me one more time. I would’ve told you everything. What I was dealing with. What was going on.”
I take a step back.
“But you lost that chance the moment you decided to go running to the dean.”
The word leaves my mouth like poison.
“You. Of all people.”
I scoff, the sound hollow.
“Yeah. Some friend.”
I turn before she can say anything else, walking away without looking back.
Behind me, I hear her voice crack.
“I’m sorry, Lottie! I’m so sorry!” she calls out desperately. “You have to forgive me! Please—you have to!”
I don’t stop.
Don’t slow down.
Don’t turn around.
Because I can’t.
Not right now.
Maybe not ever.
There’s guilt there—I can’t deny that. For the signs I ignored. For letting things go on longer than they should have.
And there’s anger.
For what she did.
For the stress it caused.
For putting him in that position.
But more than anything—
There’s distance now.
A gap that feels too wide to cross.
And no matter how much she calls after me—
I don’t think I can see her as my friend again.
Sandy backed off after I confronted her.
Not completely.
But enough.
She stopped trying to approach me directly—no more walking beside me, no more forcing conversations I clearly didn’t want. Instead, she lingered at the edges of my space. Always nearby. Always within sight.
Like a shadow that refused to fully disappear.
I noticed it every time.
The way she’d pause when I entered a room. The way her eyes would follow me, hesitant now instead of bold. Like she was waiting—for an opening, for forgiveness, for something I wasn’t willing to give.
Each time, I did the same thing.
I shook my head.
And walked right past her.
No acknowledgment. No hesitation.
Nothing.
Because she still didn’t get it.
Trust wasn’t something you could break and then just… pick back up as if nothing had happened.
Once you show me who you are—
I believe you.
And I act accordingly.
What she did wasn’t a mistake born out of confusion. It was a choice. A deliberate one. And that choice showed me exactly where I stood with her.
Not as a friend.
Not as someone she respected.
But as something she wanted—and couldn’t have.
So now?
I treat her the way she chose to behave.
Like a stranger.
A couple of days before the two-week deadline, I’m sitting in class, halfway through taking notes, when my phone vibrates softly against the desk.
I glance down.
Patrick.
My lips curve automatically as I unlock the screen and answer.
“Hey—”
“Lottie.”
His voice comes through a little breathless. Excited.
It immediately puts me on alert.
“Dr. Marin is here,” he says quickly. “We’re meeting with the dean in thirty minutes. I just—I wanted to let you know. In case you wanted to come.”
He finishes that last part more softly.
Almost shy.
Like he’s unsure if he should even ask.
I smile, warmth spreading through my chest.
“Of course I’m coming,” I say without hesitation. “I’ll meet you at the administrative building—five minutes before the meeting starts. That okay?”
There’s a beat.
Then—
“Of course,” he says, and I can hear the relief in his voice. “I’ll be waiting.”
The line goes quiet for a second longer than necessary before we hang up.
I stare at my phone for a moment, my smile lingering.
Then I look up at the front of the classroom.
I’ll have to leave early.
Normally, I’d hesitate—calculate, weigh the pros and cons.
But not this time.
Not when it comes to him.
I start gathering my things quietly, already planning what I’ll say to the professor if needed.
It won’t be a problem.
I know it won’t.
I’m a strong student. Reliable. Consistent.
But even if it were a problem—
I’d still go.
Because whatever happens in that meeting—
I need to be there.
For him.
For us.
For my omega.