The opening night of Midnight Streets was just days away, and the college theater had descended into chaos. The hum of drills and the clatter of set pieces echoed through the space as the crew scrambled to pull everything together. Actors rushed between costume fittings and last-minute line rehearsals, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of tension.
Olivia thrived in the madness. She stood at the center of it all, barking orders and making adjustments with the precision of a maestro. Her energy was magnetic, drawing everyone toward her, including Madison.
I watched from the wings as they stood together by the set. Madison leaned in close, laughing at something Olivia said, her hand brushing against Olivia's arm. Olivia didn't pull away. Instead, she smirked and said something in return, making Madison toss her head back in exaggerated laughter.
My stomach twisted, the sight igniting a flicker of anger and insecurity. They weren't hiding it, at least not from me.
"Olivia," I called, my voice cutting through the noise.
She glanced over, her expression shifting into something unreadable. "Yes, love?"
"We need to review the lighting cues," I said, trying to keep my tone even.
"I'll be right there," she said, turning back to Madison with a lingering smile before making her way toward me.
When she reached me, her demeanor changed, slipping back into the attentive partner. "Sorry about that," she said, her hand lightly brushing my arm. "What do you need?"
"Just... focus," I said, unable to hide the edge in my voice.
She sighed, her eyes softening. "Heather, you're reading too much into things again."
Before I could respond, someone called her name from across the stage, and she was gone, back to orchestrating the chaos.
***
Later that evening, Olivia showed up at my dorm again. She was different this time—calmer, more calculated, like she'd been rehearsing what to say.
"I want to take you somewhere," she said, her eyes gleaming.
"Where?" I asked, wary.
"You'll see," she said, grabbing my hand before I could protest.
She led me to the quiet garden tucked away behind one of the older campus buildings. The space was serene, the scent of flowers heavy in the cool night air. It was beautiful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the theater.
"I used to come here when I needed to think," Olivia said, her voice softer now.
We sat on a weathered bench, the silence between us heavy. I waited for her to speak, unsure of what she was building toward.
"I know I've been distant," she said finally, her gaze fixed on the ground. "And I know I've hurt you."
Her voice wavered slightly, a crack in her usually composed facade.
"But before you, Heather, I was always alone," she continued, her tone steady. "I never thought I'd find someone who could see me the way you do, someone I could count on."
The weight of her words settled over me, each one pulling tighter on the strings that held me in her orbit.
"I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And that scares me. I know I've hurt you by pulling away, but it's only because I care so much. I don't want you to think you're not enough."
She hesitated, her eyes meeting mine. "Even with everything you've been through, even with how quiet and fragile you can be... you're everything to me."
Fragile. The word felt like a slap, a thinly veiled reminder of the pain she knew I carried.
My chest tightened with anger, a spark of clarity piercing through the fog. She was using my past, framing it as the reason I was falling apart when it was her love—the push and pull, the dominance and neglect—that had left me in pieces.
But I couldn't bring myself to confront her. Not yet.
"Thank you for saying that," I said, my voice flat, hiding the storm brewing inside.
She reached for my hand, her grip firm but not overwhelming. "I just want us to be okay," she said softly. "I need you, Heather."
I nodded, even as the weight of her words threatened to crush me.
For a moment, I let myself believe her. I let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they were.
But deep down, I knew the cracks were growing too wide to ignore.
***
The breaking point came one night after another party. Olivia had vanished again, leaving me to wander a strange house full of strange people in search of her.
I found her outside in the backyard, tucked into a corner of the fence, her body pressed against Madison's, their lips locked in a kiss that was anything but innocent.
Again they didn't see me, but it didn't matter. The weight of it hit me like a punch to the gut, and I stumbled back, my vision swimming.
I don't remember leaving the house or how I made it back to my dorm. All I knew was the suffocating weight of betrayal and the crushing realization that I couldn't keep doing this.
***
Jake was waiting for me the next day outside the Journalism building, two steaming coffees in hand. His eyes softened as they met mine, his expression a steady blend of concern and quiet understanding, like he could read every line of exhaustion etched across my face.
"I saw them yesterday," I said, my voice hollow. "Olivia and Madison, making out in plain sight like I never existed."
Jake didn't say anything, just pulled me into a hug, his arms steadying me as I broke down.
"I can't do this anymore," I whispered, the words finally spilling out. "I can't keep pretending everything's okay."
"It's not your fault," Jake said gently. "None of this is your fault."
His words were a lifeline, and for the first time, I felt the weight begin to lift.
It wasn't over—not yet. But at that moment, I decided I couldn't stay tethered to Olivia's world any longer.
YOU ARE READING
Tethered Light
Romance"Before the chaos, there was quiet. Before the darkness, there was light." This story is a prequel to Echoes of Us and Through the Lens of You, where Heather takes us back to her college years - seven years before that fateful night when she met Bil...
