My first crush (COMPLETED)√

Chapter 31:Secrets and liars

I was pulled from sleep by Stephen's voice, low and broken in the quiet of the night. At first, I thought I was dreaming—until I realized he was talking.

He wasn't fully awake. His body was tense, restless beside me, as if he were trapped in something he couldn't escape. Fear clung to every word he muttered.

"No... no, no, no... please, Jemma. Please... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I swear. Please forgive me."

My heart clenched.

The desperation in his voice sent a chill through me. He sounded terrified—haunted. I turned toward him immediately, wrapping my arms around his shaking body.

"Shh... it's okay," I whispered softly, pressing him closer. "I'm here, Stephen. You're safe."

But my mind wouldn't quiet.

Jemma.

Why was he calling another girl's name?

I gently ran my fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him, hoping he'd wake up and explain.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked quietly.

"No," he murmured, barely audible, burying his face against my chest as if hiding from the world.

"Okay," I said, though the word tasted heavy.

I lay there long after his breathing evened out, sleep refusing to return. My thoughts raced, circling the same questions over and over. Who is Jemma? What does she mean to him? What is he hiding from me?

At some point, I drifted off again.

When I woke up later, the bed beside me was cold.

I reached out instinctively, my hand brushing the empty sheets. Panic flickered in my chest as I sat up, scanning the room.

"Stephen?" I called softly.

Nothing.

Then I noticed the note on the bed.

I went to a nearby store to get some food.

I exhaled, relief loosening the tight knot in my chest. Maybe I was overthinking. Maybe everything was fine.

I headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, letting warm water wash over me, trying to rinse away the unease clinging to my thoughts. After getting dressed, I walked into the kitchen—and froze.

A note was stuck neatly on the refrigerator.

Enjoy your meal.

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it. I opened the fridge, curious.

Chicken salad sandwich.

"Oh my..." I laughed softly. "I didn't even know he cooks."

I sat down, suddenly starving, excitement bubbling as I picked it up.
"Hmmm... I'm so hungry," I muttered, ready to devour it—

—when my phone started ringing.

Once.
Twice.
Again.

Annoyance crept in fast.

"Who the hell is it now?" I snapped, grabbing the phone.

Carly.

Of course.

I sighed heavily before answering. "What now!" I yelled.

"Sharon, are you insane?!" Carly shouted back, matching my volume.

"Well, you're the one blowing up my phone!" I shot back.

"You ran away!" she snapped. "Mom hasn't eaten for days. We're all worried."

Her voice softened at the mention of Mom, and guilt pricked at my chest.

"Did Dad also go on a hunger strike?" I asked sarcastically, even though I knew it sounded stupid.

"Sharon!" she barked. "Is that really what you're supposed to say?"

"Hell yeah," I replied coldly. "He's the reason I left."

And I meant every word.