Paper Hearts
The night of the exhibit buzzed with quiet celebration. The hall was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music as students basked in the success of their work. Professors congratulated their mentees, and photographers moved from one corner to another, capturing the smiles and the glow of the night.
Laura stood near her painting, smiling faintly as she received a few compliments. At the corner of the room, Jacob lingered, watching her longer than he should. There was a weight in his gaze—something deeper than admiration, something only he could explain.
Cole noticed.
He stood at the opposite end of the hall, arms crossed, his jaw tense. For most of the evening, he kept quiet, letting Laura enjoy the moment. But when Jacob leaned a little too close while they spoke, something snapped inside him.
When the crowd began to thin and the noise faded to a low hum, Cole found his chance. He approached Jacob, voice low but sharp.
“You should know your place,” Cole said, blocking Jacob’s path.
Jacob raised an eyebrow, calm but unreadable. “My place? I’m her friend. That’s all.”
“Friend?” Cole’s laugh was short, bitter. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been looking at her all night like she’s yours. She’s not.”
Jacob’s jaw tightened. “Laura isn’t yours either, Cole. Don’t talk as if she’s a prize you’ve won.”
The tension between them thickened, sharp as glass. Cole’s fists curled at his side, but he forced himself to breathe. “Stay away from her. You have a fiancée waiting for you. Maybe you should remember that before chasing someone else’s shadow.”
The words struck harder than Cole expected. For the first time, Jacob faltered. He looked away, and his silence was louder than any retort.
From the hallway just outside, Vienna froze. She had only been passing by, searching for Jacob, but the voices carried clear enough for her to hear.
Her chest tightened, a mix of confusion and dread. A fiancée waiting for you. Cole’s words replayed in her mind, slicing through the warmth she had felt earlier in the evening.
Vienna stepped back, pressing herself against the wall, as if the shadows could hide the trembling in her hands. She didn’t want to believe it, but Jacob’s silence… Jacob’s silence said everything.
Vienna stayed rooted in the hallway, the hum of the exhibit fading behind her. She could still hear Cole’s voice echoing—sharp, accusing, almost protective. But it was Jacob’s silence that unsettled her the most.
If the words were untrue, Jacob would’ve denied them immediately. He always had a way with words, a quick defense, a soft reassurance. But this time… nothing.
She pressed a hand against her chest, as though to steady the restless beating there. The air felt suddenly heavy, suffocating in its weight.
When Jacob finally emerged from the room, his expression was tight, his steps brisk. He almost walked past her, but Vienna caught his sleeve.
“Where were you?” she asked, her tone carefully casual, though her throat felt dry.
Jacob hesitated. “Just clearing my head. It’s been a long night.”
Vienna forced a small smile, tilting her head. “Yeah. It has.” She let him go, pretending not to notice how his gaze flickered—away from her, back toward the room where Laura still stood.
Inside, Laura was still surrounded by a small circle of classmates, her laughter light, unknowing. Vienna watched from a distance, the smile still pinned to her lips, though it felt brittle now.
The exhibit was meant to be a celebration—a night of colors and artistry, a night to remember. And yet, as Vienna stood in the glow of fairy lights and polished canvases, all she could feel was the faint crack in the ground beneath her.
Jacob’s silence had spoken louder than words, and Vienna knew it would haunt her long after the lights dimmed.
Cole didn’t leave right away. After the heated exchange with Jacob, he lingered in the shadows, fists clenched, jaw tight. The music from the exhibit trickled out faintly through the walls, too soft to drown the pounding in his head.
“Don’t go picking fights here,” Jacob had said.
But Cole knew what he saw. The way Jacob looked at Laura wasn’t the way a professor should look at a student.
Inside, Laura was still smiling, showing a group of visitors her piece — delicate paper sculptures layered like petals, lit by soft amber light. People were taking pictures, scribbling notes. She looked… proud. She looked like herself. Cole hated how much he liked seeing that.
From across the room, Jacob slipped back in, mask in place, composure restored. He joined Laura’s side, standing just far enough to look professional, but close enough to suggest familiarity. Vienna noticed. Of course she did.
“Your work is stunning,” Jacob said smoothly, voice pitched just for Laura, but Vienna caught it. “You always had an eye for detail.”
Laura laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You make it sound like I’ve been doing this forever.”
Vienna’s smile didn’t falter as she approached, heels clicking against the floor. She rested a hand lightly on Jacob’s arm — a claim disguised as casual affection. “She has,” Vienna cut in. “Laura’s always been like that. Even back in high school, she’d stop in the middle of the street just to sketch something on the back of her notebook. Right, Lau?”
Laura blinked, a little startled, then nodded with a sheepish grin. “Yeah… I guess some habits stick.”
Jacob said nothing, but Vienna felt the slight tension in his arm beneath her touch. She leaned in closer, her voice low enough for only him. “Careful,” she murmured, smile never wavering. “People are watching.”
Cole was watching too. From the corner of the room, his dark eyes tracked every glance, every shift in body language. He wasn’t stupid. He could see the cracks Vienna was trying to plaster over.
When the crowd finally began to thin, Laura excused herself to grab a drink. Vienna released Jacob’s arm, but her expression hardened the moment Laura was out of earshot.
“What did Cole say to you?” she asked flatly.
Jacob’s brow furrowed. “Nothing important.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
His jaw worked, but he didn’t answer. Vienna tilted her head, studying him. “You know what the worst part is?” she said softly. “It’s not even that Cole confronted you. It’s that you didn’t deny it.”
Jacob’s eyes flicked to her then, sharp, almost defensive. But Vienna only smiled — a sharp, practiced smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“This engagement is supposed to be clean. Strategic. If you start slipping, Jacob… it won’t just be your family that pays for it. Don’t forget that.”
She left him with those words, crossing the gallery with her usual composed stride, as though nothing had happened. But inside, Vienna could feel it: the war had already begun.
And Laura — sweet, oblivious Laura — was standing right at the center of it.
Laura’s POV
The exhibit was over. The lights were dimming, students were packing up, and I just wanted to breathe without the weight of people’s stares. Everyone kept saying congratulations, pat on the back, compliments I didn’t even know how to accept. But the only person I noticed wasn’t clapping.
Cole.
He was leaning against the exit, arms crossed, eyes fixed on me like I’d done something wrong.
“Aren’t you supposed to say good job or something?” I asked when I walked up to him, voice half-teasing, half-annoyed.
He didn’t answer right away. He just pushed off the wall, standing taller. “You looked… busy.”
“Busy?” I raised a brow. “It’s an exhibit, Cole. Of course I was busy.”
His jaw tightened. “With Jacob, you mean.”
I stopped, clutching my folder closer to my chest. “Oh, so this is about him again?”
“Don’t act like I didn’t see it,” he muttered, lowering his voice but not his frustration. “The way he looks at you—”
“Stop.” I cut him off before my chest could tighten any further. “Don’t make this about feelings. We don’t do that, remember? Fake couple, fake story, all for our parents. That’s it.”
Cole’s eyes darkened, and for a second, I thought he’d argue. Instead, he let out a humorless laugh. “Right. Fake. I forgot.”
The sarcasm stung more than I expected.
I turned away, walking faster toward the gate. He followed, of course. “You’re being ridiculous, Cole.”
“And you’re being blind,” he shot back. “He’s engaged, Laura. You think I don’t know? You think I can’t tell he’s—”
“Enough!” My voice cracked sharper than I meant. A couple of students glanced our way, and I hated the heat crawling up my neck. I lowered my tone, but the tremble was still there. “You don’t get to act jealous. Not when this—us—was never even real.”
He stopped walking. For a moment, the only sound was the gravel under my shoes as I tried to leave him behind.
But then his voice came again, quieter this time. “Doesn’t feel fake to me.”
My steps faltered, but I didn’t turn. I couldn’t. If I looked at him now, he might somehow read what’s inside my mind.
So I just kept walking. Faster, harder, until the distance between us felt safer.
But deep down, I already knew — he was right.