Mila Wilson is quiet, anxious and a little bit of a mess. Panic attacks have ruled her life for as long as she can remember - but starting college is her chance to take control. Love? Not something she believes she's built for.
Then she meets Jace E...
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As much as I want to walk out that door, I know I won't. If I leave now, my thoughts will chase me all night. I won't sleep. I'll spiral. Jace knows that about me—he always has—but I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing it. Or maybe, deep down, I just want him near me. Even after everything.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," I murmur, eyes fixed on the floor. "Maybe I need some space." I still can't bring myself to look at him.
"I don't want space from you, Mila. Not ever again." His voice is soft, steady. "Let's talk. Let me fix this."
And just like that, I lose the fight I was barely putting up. My shoulders sag with a silent exhale. I turn slowly and drop my bag, surrendering in silence. I hate how easily he still has that power over me—even now.
"Thank you," he says, relief washing over his face. "Do you want a few minutes? I could make us something to eat."
"I'm not hungry," I say flatly.
A glance at my phone tells me it's past three in the afternoon, and I haven't eaten a thing. My body feels like it's folding in on itself—tight, heavy, worn down from the panic, the crying, the weight of it all.
"You look exhausted. Do you feel better now?" Jace says gently, stepping closer. He sees me in ways I wish he didn't—knows what I need before I do. Which is why I take a step back. I can't let him touch me. If he does, I'll fall apart again. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, holding his ground. "Dumb question." He walks to his closet and pulls out a set of clothes—grey sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. He holds them out to me. "Here. You'll be more comfortable. We can just lie down for a bit."
I hate that he's right. Lying down sounds like the only thing I'm capable of right now. Still, the fact that he knows exactly what I need, even now, makes something twist inside me. He stays rooted in place, watching me. I lift my eyes to his without saying a word.
"Right. Sorry," he says, quickly turning around.
I catch the flicker of hurt in his expression. He wanted to be trusted enough to stay, but right now, I'm too exposed, in every possible way. He told another girl she makes him crazy, that he wants to show her how much he missed her. I don't know how to share space with that version of him yet.
I change quickly, the oversized sweatpants swallowing my body, the shirt hanging off my shoulders. His clothes smell like him—warm and familiar in a way that breaks me a little. "I'm done," I say, my voice barely holding together.
Jace turns around, grabs my clothes and tosses them over a chair. "Lie down with me?" he asks softly.
I nod slowly and crawl into his bed. The sheets are cool. The room is quiet. I wonder if she's ever been here—if Jessica's laugh ever echoed off these same walls. I can't stop the image from creeping in.
"She wasn't here," Jace says, like he can read my mind. "I swear."
I nod, curling onto my side. He does the same, mirroring me. I shift, trying to find comfort, but my body won't settle. Panic still lingers in me like a warning.
