Chapter 95 : Twisted Matter
STEPHEN’S POV:
“You don’t love me, Stephen. So stop acting like we’re dating.”
The words didn’t just land, they settled somewhere deep, heavy, and suffocating.
For a second, I couldn’t move, think, or even process how we had gone from arguing about a game… to this…..to him standing in front of me like none of it mattered, like I didn’t matter.
Something sharp twisted in my chest, tight and unbearable, and before I could stop myself, before logic or pride or anything sensible could kick in, I stepped forward.
“Don’t,” Hayden started, his brows pulling together, but I was already there.
I grabbed his shirt, fisting the fabric like it was the only thing keeping me grounded, and then I kissed him.
It wasn’t planned or soft or careful or anything it should’ve been.
It was messy, desperate, and filled with frustration.
Everything I hadn’t said, everything I hadn’t figured out, everything I didn’t understand about him, about us—it all crashed into that one moment.
For half a second, he didn’t react, and then…He shoved me back, hard.
I stumbled a step, the force of it catching me off guard, my balance barely holding as I looked up at him.
The look on his face… It wasn’t confusion or hesitation. It was disgust.
“Don’t ever do that again.. His voice was sharp and cold in a way I had never heard before.
I stared at him, my chest rising and falling too fast, like my body hadn’t gotten the message yet that everything had just… stopped.
“Hayden….”
“I said don’t.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once like he couldn’t even stand still near me, like the space between us suddenly mattered more than anything.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he muttered, shaking his head. “Seriously, Stephen. What was that?”
I didn’t have an answer or maybe I did but none of it felt like something I could say out loud without breaking something else.
“I thought…” I started, but the words died before they could fully form.
Because what had I thought? That he would understand? That it would fix something? That it would prove him wrong?
His jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “That’s the problem. You didn’t think.”
That one stung more than it should have.
I swallowed hard, forcing my expression back into something neutral, something controlled. “Right,” I said quietly
.
Silence stretched between us again.
Hayden exhaled sharply, grabbing his jacket from the counter. “Just… don’t do that again,” he repeated, not even looking at me this time.
And then he walked out.
The door shut behind him with a quiet click that somehow felt louder than anything we’d said.
I stood there for a long time after he left. Just… standing in the middle of a kitchen that suddenly didn’t feel like mine anymore.
The next two days were quiet. It wasn’t intentional, at least, that’s what I told myself at first. We just… didn’t cross paths.
I left early. He came back late. Or maybe it was the other way around.
I stopped keeping track after a while.
Messages went unread. Calls weren’t made and the house, the same house that used to feel too small for all the tension between us, now felt too big.
I told myself it was fine. That this was better. Whatever that was between us… It had always been complicated anyway and now it was over.
But it didn't feel like that. It felt like something unfinished but maybe that was the point. It was not everything that needed closure or needed to make sense.
By the second night, I stopped waiting for him to come home or listening for the door. And somewhere in that silence… the decision came.
It was just… clear. I needed to leave.
The field looked different in the morning or maybe it was just me.
Coach was already there when I arrived, standing near the sidelines with his usual posture with his arms crossed, eyes sharp, like he was always evaluating something.
He glanced up when he saw me approaching.
“Stephen,” he said, nodding once. “Didn’t expect you this early.”
“Yeah,” I replied, stopping a few feet away. “I needed to talk to you.”
That got his attention.
He straightened slightly, studying me more closely now. “About?”
I took a breath.
Three days. That’s what the scouts had given me and somehow, it had only taken two.
“I’m accepting the offer,” I said.
His brows lifted just a fraction, he was not surprised, exactly, but… acknowledging.
“Westbridge?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
A pause. Then, a slow exhale. “That’s a big move.”
“I know.”
“And a fast decision.”
“It didn’t feel like it,” I admitted.
He held my gaze for a moment longer before nodding again. “Alright,” he said simply. “Then we’ll get the paperwork sorted.”
That was it. There was no long speech or questioning. Just… acceptance.
And for some reason, that made it feel more real than anything else.
“I’ll be leaving in three days,” I added.
Coach nodded once more. “Then we make those three days count.”
I didn’t respond.
Because I wasn’t sure there was anything left here to count.
When I got back home, the house was still quiet. I walked past the kitchen without stopping this time, heading straight for my room.
There was nothing packed yet but the decision was already made and somehow… that was enough.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing in particular, my mind drifting despite myself.
To the game, the scouts, the kiss, and him.
My jaw tightened slightly.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
I exhaled slowly, leaning forward, elbows resting on my knees as I ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah,” I muttered under my br
eath. “Got it.”
Silence answered me and this time…I didn’t mind it.
Because for the first time in days, everything felt… clear.
I was leaving and maybe that was exactly what needed to happen.