SMUT WARNING || NSFW
In the midst of college life, Jade Holland discovers her father's betrayal, sending her world into chaos. Determined to reclaim her power, she finds herself entangled with a star player on her father's lacrosse team, igniting a...
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Jade
I was curled up on the couch, wine in hand, Gossip Girl in the background, and my silk pajama set reminding me that I deserved soft, pretty things even when life felt like a mess. My book rested on my lap, but I hadn't turned a page in at least ten minutes.
The doorbell rang, jolting me from my show. I blinked, confused, glancing toward the door.
Setting my wine glass and book on the coffee table, I rose from the couch and padded to the door. Peeking through the peephole, I froze.
Garrison.
My heart sank, and my stomach twisted. Of course, it was him. The last person I wanted to see but the only person I couldn't stop thinking about.
My hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitation gripping me like a vise. He didn't deserve this—didn't deserve me. Not after the way he ignored me, avoided me, ghosted me like I was nothing. Part of me wanted to open the door, let him in, hear whatever excuse he'd come up with this time. Another part of me wanted to leave him standing out there, just like he'd left me hanging for weeks.
I stayed frozen, unsure, until his voice came through the door.
"I'm ready to tell you why."
The words struck me like lightning, surging through every nerve in my body. Before I could stop myself, I unlocked the door and opened it, revealing him on the other side.
He looked... wrecked. His eyes were heavy, dark circles beneath them. His hair was a mess, and his usual confident posture was replaced by a slouch that screamed exhaustion. But more than anything, it was his face—his expression.
He looked sad. No, not just sad. He looked broken.
"Hi," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
I stared at him for a long moment, my hand still on the door. Every part of me wanted to demand answers, to make him feel the way I'd felt these last two weeks. But instead, all I managed was, "What do you want?"
His eyes met mine, and I swore I could see the weight of whatever he'd been carrying. "Can I come in?"
I stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. Garrison walked past me, his shoulders tense, and I closed the door, locking it behind us. He didn't head to the living room or sit down—he just stopped a few feet away and turned to face me. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, and he wouldn't look at me.
"I need to tell you something," he said, his voice low, "and it's going to really hurt you. I'm not even sure how to say it."
I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against the door. "Go on," I said, keeping my tone steady even though I felt like I might shatter at any moment.
He stared at the floor, like he couldn't bring himself to meet my eyes. "The reason I stopped talking to you is because your dad found out about us. He made me promise to stop seeing you."
