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“What’s she to you?”
“You’re dating now?”
“What about the others? Is she fucking all of you?”
Charlie chuckles, easy and unfazed. “I think you’ll find that is none of your business, so why don’t you fuck off back under the rocks you crawled out from and leave us the fuck alone.” Thegood-natured attitude is gone. Blown off with the stiff breeze that came up out of nowhere, almost in response to his shift in demeanour.
The confrontation loses steam. Fast. Deflated by Charlie. I have to wonder why they still keep coming after me. Clearly, people know who they are and what they can do, so why do they keep picking on me? It makes no sense. But I breathe easier, the knot in my chest loosening slightly.
But as he leads me away, the rumours are already spreading like wildfire across the campus, twisting every interaction into something scandalous. I should be annoyed, but part of me finds relief in their gossip. It’s easier to deal with whispers about a supposed romance than the truth of my entanglement with the Cardinals.
“Let them talk,” Charlie says, catching my eye. He shrugs, nonchalant as if he’s used to being the subject of speculation. Well, I guess he is. Charles St. James, Viscount Beaumont, has always been a figure of intrigue around here.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” I ask, trying to sound as indifferent as he does.
“Nothing bothers me, Ever,” he says with a grin. “Life’s more fun that way.”
I wish I could see the world through Charlie’s eyes, even for a day. But as we walk away, the murmurs continue to follow us, painting a picture of us that’s far from reality. Yet, somehow, I find myself clinging to the fiction—it’s a respite from the darkness that’s become my life.
Charlie steers me away from the crowd, his fingers lightly gripping my fingers. He knows the spots on campus that are off-limits to gossip and judging eyes. We end up in a forgotten garden behind the old music building, overrun with wildflowers and a few weeds.
“No one will bother us,” he murmurs, letting go once we’re shielded by a crumbling statue of some long-dead benefactor.
“I have to get to class.”
“Ditch. It’s not like you’re not going to ace this year anyway.”
“It’s about more than that,” I snap, seeing Summa Cum Laude washed away on a sea of blood and secrets. “Fuck.”
“I know,” he says soothingly, “but this thing isn’t going away yet. There will be another drama soon to take the focus off you.”
I look at him, really look at him. Charlie, with his easy charm and carefree laugh, is pretty much the only constant in a world that’s tipped off its axis. Right now, I need that more than anything. “It’s all so messed up,” I confess, the words spilling out before I can stop them.
“Hey,” he says gently, pulling me down onto the grass and sitting beside me. “You’re not alone in this shitstorm.”
We sit in silence, the kind that isn’t awkward but filled with understanding. I lean into him slightly, seeking solace in his presence. His arm finds its way around my shoulders, and I let myself be held.
“Ever?”
The voice makes us both turn. Ben stands a few feet away, his green eyes clouded with concern. There’s a hesitation in his step, a wariness as he comes closer.
“Hey, Ben,” Charlie greets him, but his arm stays around me.
Ben’s gaze flickers over us, reading the scene, and then he’s next to me, his hand reaching out to touch mine. I have a flashback of how he touched me in that chamber, under circumstances I’m trying desperately to forget. But now, it’s different; there’s an apology in his touch, a silent plea for forgiveness.
“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice low.
“Sure,” I say, though my throat feels tight. I pull away from Charlie, giving myself space to breathe.
Ben’s hand is warm against my back, filling my cold soul with a heat that is hard to ignore even though every instinct warns me to run.
“Ever, I...” He trails off, struggling. His eyes meet mine, and it’s like looking into a mirror of my pain. We’re both haunted, both broken in ways that words can’t fix. But right now, we’re also just two people trying to find a way forward. “I’m not going to demand anything from you, but I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I was lost in the moment of the ritual, and you were there, laid out how I’ve dreamed of you... I should’ve taken better care of you.”
Choking back the sob of emotion that wants to overwhelm me, I press my lips together and nod. I don’t hate him or fear him. I just need a minute to process.
Everything.
Not just his actions.
