Chapter 20 Chapter 20
Chapter 20 Chapter 20
Aria’s POV
Five minutes.
That was all I said I needed.
Five minutes to hear Ethan out, to settle whatever unfinished mess he had dragged back into my life, to prove to Dominic that this wasn’t as complicated as he was making it.
Five minutes.
It already felt like a lie.
I stood there, the air between us thick, my fingers tightening slightly around the strap of my bag as I faced Ethan fully. Dominic was still behind me. I could feel it without looking. That quiet, controlled presence that refused to disappear completely even when he stepped back.
Ethan noticed too.
Of course he did.
His eyes flicked past me briefly before settling back on my face. “You brought a guard dog now?”
I exhaled slowly. “Say what you came to say, Ethan.”
A small smile touched his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Still straight to the point.”
“I don’t have time for games.”
“That’s funny,” he said softly. “You used to.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before you left.”
The words landed heavier than I expected.
He went quiet for a second, studying me like he was trying to find something familiar in a version of me that no longer existed.
“You’ve changed,” he said.
“I had to.”
“Because of me?”
“No,” I replied quickly. “Because of everything.”
He nodded slowly, like he understood even if he didn’t.
“Fair,” he said.
Silence stretched between us again, but this one felt different. Less tense. More… unfinished.
“Why are you here, Ethan?” I asked again.
This time, he didn’t dodge.
“My dad’s back,” he said.
I blinked. “Okay?”
“He transferred me.”
“To St. Ivy’s?”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened slightly.
“You’re enrolling here?”
“Already did.”
The words hit sharper than they should have.
“That’s… convenient,” I said.
“It’s not about convenience.”
“It feels like it.”
He stepped closer, just a little. “I told you. I came back for you.”
I shook my head. “No. You came back because your life moved you here. Don’t twist it.”
“You really think that’s all this is?”
“I know it is.”
He let out a quiet breath, frustration slipping through. “You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you don’t feel anything.”
“I don’t.”
“Liar.”
The word came out soft, but it still hit.
“I don’t owe you anything, Ethan.”
“I’m not asking for anything.”
“Then what are you doing?” I snapped. “Because showing up out of nowhere and saying things like that doesn’t mean anything if you’re not willing to actually explain yourself.”
His jaw tightened.
“There are things you don’t know,” he said.
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It came out sharp and empty. “Of course you can’t.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is with you,” I shot back.
Silence.
Again.
Always silence where answers should be.
“You think I wanted to leave?” he asked quietly.
“I think you did leave.”
“That wasn’t my choice.”
“And yet you still did it.”
“I didn’t have a say.”
“You always have a say.”
“Not this time.”
I stared at him, searching his face for something real, something that didn’t feel like another half-truth.
“Then prove it,” I said.
“I can’t.”
“Then stop asking me to believe you.”
His eyes darkened slightly. “You used to trust me.”
“I used to know you.”
That shut him up.
Good.
Because I was done going in circles.
“Time’s up,” I said, turning slightly.
“Aria, wait.”
His hand didn’t grab me this time.
But his voice did.
“Just answer one thing.”
I paused.
Barely.
Then looked back.
“What?”
“If I hadn’t left…” he said slowly, carefully, “would things be different between us?”
My chest tightened.
Damn him.
Of all the things he could’ve asked…
“That doesn’t matter,” I said.
“It does to me.”
“Well, it doesn’t to me.”
“Aria—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t get to ask that. Not after everything.”
His expression shifted. Not anger. Not frustration.
Something worse.
Regret.
“Okay,” he said quietly.
Just like that.
No fight.
No argument.
And somehow, that made it harder.
“I’ll see you around,” he added.
I didn’t respond.
I couldn’t.
Because if I did, I might say something I didn’t mean.
Or worse
Something I did.
He nodded once, then turned and walked away.
And just like that
He was gone again.
But this time, it didn’t feel like an ending.
It felt like a beginning of something I wasn’t ready for.
“You done?”
Dominic’s voice came from behind me.
I turned.
He was exactly where I left him, arms crossed, expression tight.
“Yes.”
“That took longer than five minutes.”
“Barely.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“What did he want?”
“I told you. To talk.”
“And?”
“And we talked.”
His jaw tightened. “About what?”
I hesitated.
Then shrugged slightly. “Nothing important.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“Why do you care?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Again.
And just like before
It changed something.
His gaze locked onto mine, sharp and unyielding. “Because I do.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “It’s vague and annoying and—”
“He’s trouble.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“You heard me,” Dominic said. “He’s trouble.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I don’t need to.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I don’t care.”
I stared at him. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I’m not deciding anything. I’m telling you what I see.”
“And what exactly do you see?”
His expression hardened slightly. “A guy who shows up out of nowhere, refuses to explain anything, and still expects you to trust him.”
I froze.
Because that…
That was exactly what I had been thinking.
“I can handle myself,” I said.
“I know you can.”
“Then stop acting like I can’t.”
“I’m not,” he replied. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t have to.”
Silence.
That wasn’t what I expected.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means,” he said slowly, “you don’t always have to fight everything alone.”
Something in my chest shifted slightly.
Uncomfortable.
Unfamiliar.
“I’m used to it,” I said.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I noticed.”
We stood there for a moment, the tension settling into something quieter, something heavier.
Then he pushed off the wall.
“Come on,” he said. “Study.”
I blinked. “Right now?”
“Yes, right now.”
“I just—”
“You said we’re not wasting time.”
I sighed. “You’re annoying.”
“And you’re stubborn.”
“Focused.”
“Same thing.”
I rolled my eyes but followed him anyway.
Because he was right.
Because I didn’t have time to slow down.
Because one week wasn’t enough
And I could already feel it slipping through my fingers.
\---
The study room was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that made every small sound feel louder than it should.
I dropped my bag onto the chair, pulling out my books while Dominic leaned back against the desk, watching me.
“What?” I asked without looking up.
“You’re serious about this.”
“Yes.”
“All of it.”
“Yes.”
He let out a low breath. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”
“No.”
“Even if it gets harder?”
“It already is.”
Silence.
Then he nodded slightly.
“Okay,” he said. “Then let’s start.”
I paused.
Looked up.
“You’re not arguing?”
“I said I’d try.”
“And you’re actually doing it?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him for a second.
Then nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
We started with algebra.
Of course.
His weakest subject.
I explained the first problem, walking him through it step by step. He listened. Actually listened. Not interrupting. Not dismissing.
Just… trying.
“Now you try,” I said, handing him the pen.
He took it, hesitating slightly before starting.
He got halfway through before stopping.
“I don’t get this part.”
I moved closer, leaning slightly over his shoulder. “You skipped a step.”
“Which one?”
“This one,” I said, pointing. “You need to simplify before you substitute.”
“Oh.”
He erased part of it, reworking the problem.
Slower this time.
More careful.
And when he got to the end, he paused.
“Is that right?”
I checked it.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
He blinked. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
A small, almost surprised smile crossed his face.
And for a second
He didn’t look like the guy who made my life hell.
He looked like someone who just needed a chance.
“Again,” I said.
He groaned. “Already?”
“Yes.”
“This is torture.”
“This is learning.”
“Same thing.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
We kept going.
Problem after problem.
Mistake after mistake.
Correction after correction.
Time passed without me noticing.
Until
A knock on the door broke the silence.
I looked up.
Dominic frowned. “We’re busy.”
The door opened anyway.
And Lana stepped in.
Of course she did.
Her eyes moved bet
ween us, taking in the scene.
The books.
The notes.
The proximity.
Something flickered in her expression.
Brief.
Sharp.
“Well,” she said slowly, “this is interesting.”
My stomach tightened.
“What do you want, Lana?” I asked.
She smiled.
But it wasn’t friendly.
“Just checking on my new teammate,” she said.
Her gaze shifted to Dominic.
Then back to me.
“And seeing how serious you really are.”
Something about the way she said it
Made it clear
This wasn’t just a visit
It was the start of something.