in the ring / harry styles

26- Torn Between Two

As I stand in my dorm room, the words from Jake's letter still linger in my mind, clinging to me in a way that feels both maddening and familiar. Emilia and Lynn are watching me, their concern etched across their faces, but their voices sound distant, muffled. It's like I'm trapped in a haze of memories, tangled up in the old dreams Jake used to sell me—the ones where he swore he'd change, where he made me believe we could be something better, something whole. But every promise he made back then shattered the moment he felt his grip on me weaken. And now, here I am again, caught between that version of him and the reality of what he's shown me time and time again.

Lynn's voice breaks through, snapping me out of my daze. She crosses her arms, her look hard and unforgiving. "So, what now?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "Are we all really just going to let him get away with this crap?"

Her words feel like a jolt, and I realize that my hands are clenched tightly around the torn pieces of Jake's letter. I take a shaky breath, feeling the anger and frustration bubble up to the surface, cutting through the confusion. "No," I say, my voice low but fierce, a fire sparking somewhere deep within me. "I'm not letting him off that easily."

Emilia's eyes widen as she sees the determination in my expression, glancing at Lynn, then back to me. "Wait, Luce—are you serious? You're actually going over there?"

The idea feels reckless, impulsive, but the thought of letting Jake believe he can still toy with me, that he can manipulate me into coming back just by throwing a bouquet and some words my way—it's unbearable. I can't let him think I'm still that girl who'd fall for it.

Lynn steps forward, her expression softening, concerned. "Lucy, don't," she says, her voice pleading. "He'll just twist everything again, make himself look like the victim. You know how he is."

But I shake my head, my voice hardening. "Yeah, well, he's about to find out he doesn't get to control me anymore." And as the words leave my mouth, I feel a surge of clarity, of release, like this might be the step I need to finally break free of him. Before either of them can say another word, I grab my bag, my pulse racing, their protests fading as I walk out of the room, my mind churning with the memories I've tried to bury and the feelings I wish I didn't still have.

As I storm down the hall, the weight of my own decision presses on me, heavy and undeniable. The letter, Jake's words, the roses—it's all replaying in my head, like a scene I can't stop watching. I keep asking myself if I'm doing the right thing, if confronting him will actually close the door or just drag us both deeper into this mess. I shake my head, forcing myself to ignore the tremor of doubt that pricks at me, a doubt I've let steer me off course too many times.

Emilia's and Lynn's words echo in my mind, their concerns and reminders to leave this alone, to avoid giving Jake another opening. But I can't shake the feeling that if I don't confront him now, I'll never get the chance to take back the power I gave away. He'll keep popping back into my life, twisting his apologies into something that sounds sweet, planting seeds of doubt. I need to end it—here, now, for good.

When I reach the frat house, my heart is hammering against my ribcage, my fists clenched so tightly around the remnants of his letter that my knuckles ache. But I don't care. I feel the fire pushing me forward, step after step, until I'm inside. My gaze zeroes in on him—Jake, sitting on the couch like nothing happened, laughing, relaxed, like I'm not tearing apart inside because of him. It makes me furious. How dare he look so... so carefree? Like I'm just another girl he can play with.

He notices me, his expression shifting from carefree to shocked, and then something else—a look that says he thinks he's still got me, that I'm just here because I'm still hooked on him. It ignites something raw in me.