Chapter 45 Chapter 45
Noah's POV
She was gone. I reached the exact spot where she had been standing not even a minute ago, and it was like she had disappeared into the crowd without leaving anything behind. There was no trace of her. My chest tightened, it wasn't exactly panic but something close to it. I scanned the courtyard again. I looked over to where the fountain was. But still no sign of her.
People were still talking, glued to their phones like the world hadn’t just tilted sideways. A couple of them glanced at me, then whispered to each other. But I didn’t care about that right now when she had just stood here alone with all of it hitting her at once.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. I dragged a hand through my hair, turning in a slow circle like that might somehow make her reappear. It didn’t. I can’t fix this the way I usually do. This wasn’t something I could shut down by showing up and forcing it into submission. This was already out. It was already bigger than me.
My phone buzzed again. I didn't check it, I already knew what it would say. Instead, I shoved it into my pocket and headed towards the athletic building as quickly as I could. If I couldn’t find her, Then I needed to figure out what the hell was happening behind the scenes and how bad it actually was.
The second I stepped into the building, I knew. The staff was moving more quickly than usual. Phones were ringing. Doors were opening and closing. The energy was tense. Someone from admin passed me without making eye contact, which never happened.
“Coach wants you. Now.” I didn’t even see who said it, and that didn't matter.
I walked straight to his office, I didn't even bother to knock on the door. I just opened the door and stepped inside.
Coach Bennett was already standing. That was the first sign this wasn’t normal. He didn’t sit when he was calm or stand when things were fine. He stood when something had gone very, very wrong. His expression was tight. But underneath all that was anger. “Close the door,” he said.
I closed the door behind me. The click sounded louder in this quiet room. My heart actually raced, “Do you understand what you have done?” He said through clenched teeth, trying to contain his anger. He went straight to it.
I held his gaze. “I didn’t leak anything.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
My jaw tightened. “This isn’t on me.”
“This is absolutely on you,” he snapped.
The room shifted, the tension was rising fast. “How?” I shot back. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You created the situation.”
“That situation was approved.”
“Not like this.”
I exhaled sharply. “Then say what you actually mean.”
He stepped closer. “This isn’t just about you anymore.”
I froze because that was the part that mattered. “I know,” I said.
“Do you?” he challenged. “Because right now, this program is under scrutiny, the university is fielding media calls, and your ‘relationship’ is being labeled a manipulation strategy.” I didn’t respond, because that wasn’t the part I cared about and he noticed. “And Emily Taylor,” he continued, his voice was sharper now, “Is being dragged through this with you.”
My hands clenched at my sides.
“She didn’t leak anything,” I said.
“She doesn’t have to.”
“That’s not fair.”
Coach let out a humorless laugh. “Fair?” he repeated. “This isn’t about fair. It’s about optics.” It wasn't even about any of that.
“She’s going to take the hit for this,” I said.
“Yes.” The answer came too fast.
“That’s not happening,” I said.
Coach studied me for a moment, like he was deciding something. “It might already be.”
The silence was heavy, but then I broke it. “What are you doing about it?” I asked.
“We are evaluating our response.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means we may suspend all PR appearances.”
“Fine.”
“And distance the program from her involvement.”
“You’re cutting her loose.”
“We’re protecting the institution.”
“At her expense.”
“At everyone’s expense.”
“No,” I said, my voice tightening. “At hers.”
Coach didn’t deny it or argue about it. He just held my gaze. “That’s how this works.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“That’s exactly how this works.”
“Not this time.”
“And what exactly are you going to do about it?” he asked. Coach exhaled. “You need to stay quiet,” he said. “We will handle this.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed. “No?”
“I’m not staying quiet.”
“That’s not a suggestion.”
“It is if it involves her.”
“This isn’t your call.”
“It is if she’s taking the hit for something I was part of.”
“You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I’m thinking exactly as clearly as I need to.”
“That’s not how damage control works.”
“Then maybe your version of damage control is the problem.”
Coach shook his head. “You’re going to make this worse.”
“Maybe.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Because worse for me didn’t matte if it meant better for her. Coach studied me for a long moment. “Get out,” he said.
I didn’t argu or push further, because this conversation wasn’t going to change anything. I turned around and walked out. Sean was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and his expression unreadable. “How bad is it?” he asked.
“Bad.”
“That helps.”
I ran a hand over the back of my neck. “They are considering cutting her out.”
Sean’s expression shifted. “Of course they are.”
“She didn’t do anything.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“I know.”
“You can’t fix this by punching someone,” he said.
I let out a short breath. “I’m not trying to fix it.”
“Then what are you doing?” He asked.
I looked past him out the window, students walking around and chatting with their phones out. The story spreading in real time, becoming something we couldn’t contain. “Making sure she doesn’t take the hit alone,” I said quietly.
Sean studied me and then nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “That sounds more like you.” But it didn't sound like me.
"I have to go and look for her." I said and leaving his side in a hurry.
By the time I stepped outside again, it had escalated. The media vans lined the edge of campus with cameras and microphones. People were already setting up. Students were filming everything like it was entertainment.
My phone buzzed again. This time I checked it in case it with Emily, but it was just more headlines, comments and speculation. All of it circling back to her. Her name. Her intentions. Her credibility. I clenched my jaw. because this was bigger than both of us now.
She didn't deserve any of this. I opened a new message and started typing. It had to be right. It had to shift the narrative. I exhaled slowly as I continued to type, because if they wanted a story and something to talk about. If they wanted truth, then I wasn’t going to let them twist it into something that destroyed her.
My thumb hovered over the screen. If they want a story. I will give them the truth.