To be her

Chapter 8

Unexpected Revelations

The sharp knock on my window jolted me, and I turned to see Mrs. Lilly's familiar face beaming at me. Her usual warmth radiated through her mischievous smile, making it impossible not to return the gesture.
"Where are you girls off to so late?" she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
"A friend's party," I said, trying to sound casual.
She chuckled knowingly, her twinkling eyes betraying her amusement. "Ah, to be young again. Enjoy yourselves, but remember to stay safe."
"We will, Mrs. Lilly," Jane piped up from the back seat, and with a wave, we drove off into the night.
The party was already alive when we arrived. Music pulsated through the walls, and colorful lights danced in time with the beat, casting everyone in an electric glow. The energy in the room was intoxicating, and as we stepped inside, heads turned. But none of the attention compared to Zayn's reaction when he saw Zoey.
His entire expression shifted—eyes wide, lips parting as if words failed him. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only thing that existed. "You look... amazing."
Zoey's cheeks flushed, a rare crack in her confident exterior, though she recovered quickly, giving him a dazzling smile. "Thanks, Zayn. You're not looking too bad yourself."
I couldn't help but glance at Daniel. He stood a few steps away, hands shoved into his pockets, his usual carefree demeanor nowhere in sight. His gaze, intense and unflinching, was locked on me.
For a moment, the world around us blurred, the thumping bass fading into a distant hum. His eyes held something raw, vulnerable—a truth he'd hidden for so long it seemed to ache now, begging to be seen.
"She's so pretty," he murmured, so softly that I almost missed it beneath the music.
My breath hitched, unsure if I'd imagined it. But before I could process, Zayn stepped forward, breaking the spell.
"This party isn't just a random thing," Zayn said, his excitement contagious. "It's for someone special. My brother's hosting it for his friend who just got back from London. He's an incredible artist—like, next-level amazing."
That perked Zoey right up. "An artist? Seriously?"
"Yeah," Zayn said, grinning. "Mr. Bliss. I've mentioned him before. He's like a brother to me. You'll love him, Zoey—he's all about painting, just like you."
Zoey's face lit up, and she glanced at Zayn with genuine gratitude. "Thanks for inviting me. I can't wait to meet him."
"Come on," Zayn urged, motioning for us to follow. "You have to meet him."
Zoey and Jane eagerly trailed after him, but I lagged behind, half-lost in thought. Painting wasn't my thing. It had never been. In fact, the idea of it dredged up memories I'd buried—memories of failures, of moments I'd rather forget.
"Where'd you go?" Daniel's voice broke through my haze, warm and steady.
I blinked up at him. "Nowhere. Just thinking."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. And as we fell in step behind the others, I felt his gaze linger on me, like he was memorizing every detail.
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Daniel couldn't stop staring at her.
Mal wasn't dressed to stand out—her style was always understated, quietly elegant—but tonight, she was breathtaking in a way that unraveled him completely. Her normally straight hair was styled in loose curls that framed her face, soft and wild at the same time. The way she kept tucking a strand behind her ear, her nervous habit, made his chest ache.
She had no idea how beautiful she was, and that killed him.
How could she not see it? The way her smile could light up an entire room or how her laugh—rare and fleeting—was the only sound he ever wanted to hear.
He clenched his fists, trying to steady the rush of emotions surging through him. He had loved her for so long, in so many ways, that it had become second nature, like breathing. It wasn't just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she saw the world, the way she cared so deeply, even when she tried to hide it behind her wit and sharp tongue.
But he'd never told her.
How could he? What if she didn't feel the same? What if it ruined everything they had?
So he kept it inside, locked away, pouring every unspoken word into stolen glances and small, unnoticed gestures. Like the way he always made sure she had her favorite snacks during movie nights or how he'd stay up late proofreading her essays even when she didn't ask.
Tonight, though, the weight of his silence felt unbearable.
She looked so lost in thought, her eyes distant, her lips pressed together in that soft, thoughtful way she had. And he couldn't help but wonder if she ever thought of him the way he thought of her—if she could ever love him the way he loved her.
Because he didn't just love her.
He loved her with a ferocity that scared him, a depth that felt endless. He loved her in the quiet moments, in the laughter, in the chaos, in the calm. He loved her in a way that made him want to be better, not for himself, but for her.
And as she walked beside him, so close yet so impossibly far, he knew he'd do anything to protect her happiness—even if it meant never telling her the truth.
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The night was just beginning, but for Daniel, it already felt like it was slipping away.