[BOOK2]
*****
I want her.
I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
But I can't have her. Because the moment I admit that out loud, the moment I risk everything we've built, I could lose her.
And losing Isla? That's not an option.
*******
Is...
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The quiet of the night wrapped around me as I pushed open the door to my room, the stillness doing nothing to quiet the war waging inside my chest. Isla's smile kept flashing in my mind, the way she looked at Jake like he was the center of her world—like he deserved her. He didn't. Hell, no one did. But especially not him.
I dropped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to push the frustration out of my system. I knew it was only a matter of time before Isla saw him for what he really was. Jake wasn't the type to stay clean for long—he was bound to screw up, and when he did, she'd be hurt. And I hated knowing it was coming. Knowing I couldn't stop it.
I wanted to tell her. God, I wanted to tell her so badly, but the second I opened my mouth, I'd lose her. She'd hate me for getting in the middle. The thought of her shutting me out? I couldn't risk that. Not yet.
I ran my hands through my hair, my head heavy with the weight of everything. If she ever found out I knew what Jake said, that I'd kept it from her... She'd never forgive me.
"Theo! Dinner's on the table!" Dad's voice boomed from downstairs, pulling me from the spiral of thoughts.
"Coming!" I called back, though I stayed on my bed for a moment longer, my fingers gripping the comforter. I needed to chill. This was killing me, but I couldn't let it show. Not with her, not with anyone.
When I finally dragged myself downstairs, I could already feel Dad's eyes on me as I entered the dining room.
"You alright?" he asked, not pushing, but his voice held that fatherly tone that said he already knew I wasn't.
"Yeah, fine." I sank into the chair, reaching for a plate of whatever Mom had cooked tonight. The smell of pasta filled the room, but my appetite wasn't there. I took a bite anyway, more out of habit than hunger, trying to ignore the looks I was getting from across the table.
Mom didn't say anything, but I could feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of my face. She always knew when something was off, but she wasn't the type to push unless she had to. For now, I was safe.
The conversation around the table faded into the background as I forced myself through dinner, pretending like everything was fine when all I could think about was Isla. Her laugh. Her stupid boyfriend. The way Jake's hands were always all over her, like he had any right to touch her.
After what felt like forever, I excused myself and headed back upstairs, grabbing my phone and flopping onto the bed again. I scrolled through my messages, hoping to distract myself with something mindless when one from Lewis popped up.
Lewis: Yo, what's up with you and Jake? Heard you almost punched him after practice.
I clenched my jaw, rereading the message. Great. Word was already spreading. I wasn't in the mood to hash it out with Lewis, though.
Me: He's a dick.
I didn't have the energy to explain it, not even to Lewis. I tossed my phone aside and lay back, staring up at the ceiling again. I had no idea how long I could keep this up. Watching Isla fall deeper for that asshole, knowing I couldn't do a damn thing about it, was driving me insane.
