Chapter 10 : The Hallway
STEPHEN’S POV
I didn’t remember deciding to leave.
One second I was standing in the hallway, Hayden’s door still vibrating from where it had slammed shut, my chest tight and buzzing like I’d swallowed broken glass. The next, I was outside, the night air hitting my face like a slap.
I deserved worse.
I walked with no direction, hands shoved in my pockets, jaw locked so tight it ached. Every step felt like it was shaking something loose in me—anger, humiliation, regret. Or all three tangled together so badly I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other started.
Hayden’s face wouldn’t get out of my head. That look he had when he finally stopped fighting back. Like he’d accepted the role I’d carved into him.
You ruin everything you touch.
The words tasted bitter now.
I cut through campus without thinking, past the library, past the quad where people laughed too loudly and lived too easily. Then I saw her.
Ella.
She was sitting on one of the benches near the field, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to disappear. Her hair was pulled back messily, face turned toward the dark grass. Alone.
Of course she was alone.
My steps slowed without my permission.
For a second, just one, I almost turned around.
Then the anger surged back up, hot and sharp, and I kept going.
She heard me before she saw me. Her head lifted slightly, then turned. Her eyes met mine and something flickered there, hurt, resentment, exhaustion.
She stood immediately.
“No,” she said, flat and final, before I could even open my mouth.
That hit harder than I expected.
“Ella,” I said anyway. My voice sounded rough, scraped raw. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t,” she replied, already slinging her bag over her shoulder.
I stepped in front of her, blocking the path. “Don’t do that.”
“Move.”
“Not until you listen to me.”
She laughed once, sharp and humorless. “You don’t get to demand anything from me anymore, Stephen.”
The way she said my name, like it tasted bad, made my chest tighten.
“I’m not demanding,” I snapped. “I’m trying to talk.”
“You had months to do that,” she shot back. “You chose not to.”
“That’s not fair.”
She stared at me, eyes bright with something dangerously close to tears. “Nothing about this is fair.”
I exhaled hard. “I heard about what happened today.”
Her jaw clenched. “Of course you did.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, before I could stop myself.
Her eyes went cold. “You don’t get to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”
“You embarrassed yourself,” I pressed, the anger finding its footing. “You embarrassed me.”
She flinched.
Good. No…..fuck, it is not good. But I didn’t stop.
“Do you know what people are saying?” I continued. “That you lost it. That you went feral over Hayden like some…”
“Don’t,” she warned.
“….like some desperate girl who can’t take rejection,” I finished anyway.
Her hand tightened around her bag strap. “You think I don’t know what they’re saying? You think I haven’t heard worse?”
“Then why did you give them exactly what they wanted?” I demanded.
She laughed again, but this time it cracked. “You really don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“This isn’t about Hayden,” she said quietly. “It’s about you.”
I scoffed. “That’s rich.”
“You broke me down for months,” she went on, voice shaking now. “You made me feel invisible, like I was always one mistake away from being replaced. And when I finally stopped begging you to look at me, when I finally chose something for myself….you show up to tell me I embarrassed you?”
“That’s not what this is,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction.
“Yes, it is.” She met my eyes fully now, and it felt like standing under a spotlight. “You don’t care that I’m hurt. You care that I made you uncomfortable.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Is it?” she challenged. “Because all I hear right now is you calling me names instead of asking if I’m okay.”
I swallowed.
“Are you okay?” I asked stiffly.
She stared at me for a long moment, then shook her head. “Too late.”
Something ugly twisted in my chest.
“God, you’re unbelievable,” I snapped. “You go from my girlfriend to my brother’s mess and expect sympathy?”
Her face went white.
“Don’t you dare talk about me like I’m something he picked up and threw away,” she said, voice low and dangerous.
“You threw yourself at him,” I said, the words spilling out cruel and sharp. “You didn’t even wait.”
Her eyes burned. “You don’t get to rewrite history to make yourself feel better.”
“I loved you,” I said.
She laughed, really laughed this time, bitter and hollow. “You loved controlling me. There is a big difference.”
“That’s not true!”
“Then why do I feel smaller every time I stand in front of you?” she asked. “Why do I feel like I have to defend my pain just to be heard?”
I didn’t have an answer.
Anger rushed in to fill the silence.
“You look pathetic,” I said, hating myself even as the word landed. “Sitting here alone, acting like the world owes you something.”
Her lips trembled.
“Get away from me,” she said.
“No,” I shot back. “You don’t get to play the victim after stirring all this chaos.”
She stepped closer, eyes blazing. “You want to know the truth? I fought today because I was tired of being quiet. Because for once, I didn’t want to swallow my hurt to make other people comfortable, especially you.”
“That fight could get you suspended,” I said.
She shrugged. “At least it was mine.”
I shook my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re cruel,” she replied softly. “You always were.”
That one hurt.
I laughed it off. “You’re not innocent, Ella. You like the attention. You like being fought over."
Her expression hardened completely. “And you like breaking people when they stop needing you.”
Silence fell between us, heavy and suffocating.
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” she said finally. “Not tonight. Not ever, if I’m being honest.”
She moved to pass me.
I let her.
But the anger didn’t fade. It burned hotter.
“Go ahead,” I called after her. “Run back to him. That’s what you’re good at, right? Being someone else’s problem.”
She stopped.
Slowly, she turned back.
“If you ever talk to me like that again,” she said calmly, “I won’t cry. I won’t fight. I’ll just make sure you never get access to me again.”
Then she walked away.
I stood there long after she disappeared into the dark, my chest tight, my hands shaking.
I told myself she deserved it that she started this.
But the bench she’d been sitting on was still warm when I finally turned away, and for the first time that night, the anger didn’t feel powerful.
It felt empty.