Chapter 34

Chapter 34

"...So please, I'm begging you. Give me one more chance."

Laura's chest tightened as his words echoed in the room. For a moment, the tenderness in his gaze tugged at something deep inside her—but then a darker thought crept in, casting shadows over her hope. Could he just be saying this because I'm his friend? Out of pity, out of guilt?  Her eyes grew cold with a frown knitting her brows as the doubt took hold.

Her gaze dropped, and she bit her lip, trying to muster a response. But she couldn't find the words. It felt as though her heart had been pulled in two opposing directions. Instead of answering, she took a shaky step back, and then another, retreating from the intensity of his confession. Jonathan reached out, alarmed, but she shook her head almost imperceptibly, her expression unreadable.

In one swift motion, she turned and left the room, slipping out of his house without another word. The door closed behind her, and Jonathan stood there, hand still outstretched, frozen in stunned silence.

Jonathan's gaze remained fixed on the closed door. Laura's abrupt departure echoed like a shockwave. He barely registered his sister, Tabitha, stepping out from behind the wall, her arms crossed as she watched him with a mixture of irritation and disappointment.

"Huh. Didn't expect it wouldn't go well," she muttered dryly.

Jonathan clenched his fists, turning to face her. "I don't need your opinion."

Tabitha sighed, her eyes flashing as she met his gaze with a pointed glare. "Maybe if you actually listened to someone, you'd realize why she didn't believe you. You're still a jerk, and that's all she sees right now. If I were her, I would've punched you straight in the gut."

"You—" Jonathan started, his jaw tightening, but she cut him off without missing a beat.

"Think about it. Who would take you seriously? The former playboy who tossed around 'I love you' like it was a party favor, suddenly confessing to his best friend—who, by the way, just got rejected by you days ago?" Tabitha scoffed, shaking her head. "Then out of nowhere, here you are, saying you love her. It's not surprising she didn't believe you. Honestly, you're pretty stupid, aren't you?" She gave him a sharp look before turning away, her heels clicking as she walked off, leaving him reeling.

Jonathan's shoulders slumped, the sting of her words sinking in. What woman would believe a former womanizer's sudden confession? The truth hit harder than he'd expected, and he exhaled a long sigh, acknowledging the uncomfortable reality in his sister's harsh critique.

But Tabitha's words had a deeper meaning she hadn't shared with him. She, too, had been in love—hopelessly, quietly, for years—with someone who hadn't reciprocated. For four long years, she had adored her university professor, a man six years her senior, who never seemed to notice her feelings. Now, in her final year, she'd made the hard decision to stop chasing after a love that would never be returned. Watching Jonathan's situation unfold, she could see Laura's reaction mirrored in her own experience—a reflection of all the pain and self-doubt she'd come to know too well.

As she left, Tabitha realized that her words were not just directed at her brother. They were a reminder to herself, too.

So Tabitha headed to her room with a faint spark of hope tugging at her as she reached for her phone, hoping for a response from Mr. Albrecht. Her heart skipped slightly as she opened the messages—only to see that each one remained marked as "read" for over an hour now.

She let out a sigh, feeling a quiet resignation settle in. With a few swift taps, she deleted every message she'd sent him and the words began disappearing from her screen as if they'd never existed. She hesitated only a second longer before removing his contact altogether, severing the last thread to the hope she had clung to for so long. Finally, she tossed her phone onto her bed as the silence in her room suddenly heavy.

Then, she straightening her posture and turned toward her closet, rummaging through her clothes as she prepared for class.

"It's better this way," she muttered, bracing herself against the ache as she selected a simple outfit—a pair of jeans and a plain shirt. Despite her family's wealth, Tabitha had always dressed modestly, but over the years, she had forced herself to change, hoping to catch his eye. Her jeans were swapped for dresses, her sneakers for delicate heels, a style that felt as unfamiliar as it looked. It had worked, briefly. Four years of quiet yearning had turned into a seven-day relationship—seven days that left her emptier than before.

She sighed, feeling the hollowness of it all settle deeper. She'd begged him, texted him countless times, asking to be taken back, to be seen and valued, only to face the silence that followed every message.

After finishing her preparations, Tabitha stepped out of her room and headed downstairs, feeling lighter than she had in months. She had no plans of taking her car today. Instead, she laced up her well-worn sneakers, eager to feel the freedom of walking the few blocks to campus, unburdened by the usual ache of high heels. She stepped onto the sidewalk as she reached for a hair tie and gathered her hair into a messy bun, feeling the cool morning breeze brush against her face.

For the first time in a long while, she took a deep, steadying breath and allowed herself to soak in the moment.

'I didn't know moving on could feel this good,' she thought with a quiet smile, letting each step bring her closer to a future that finally felt like her own.

With each step she took toward the university, Tabitha felt lighter, as though each block shed layers of the past she'd carried for so long. She noticed things she'd often overlooked—the golden hues of morning sunlight spilling across the sidewalk, the quiet rustle of leaves skittering in the early breeze, and the comforting rhythm of her sneakers on the pavement.

'It really is good,' she thought with a small smile. Without the weight of unreciprocated feelings or the pressure to be someone else, she felt like herself, more present and grounded.

As she reached the university gates, she glanced at her reflection in a nearby glass window. The face staring back was one she almost didn't recognize—not because of the casual clothes or the absence of makeup but because she looked... content. She reached up and adjusted the messy bun, nodding slightly to herself before stepping inside the university grounds.

But the moment she stepped into the hallway, her heart faltered as her gaze landed on Mr. Albrecht who has been by the door all along. There he stood, surrounded by a small group of students. His striking blue eyes gleamed with that effortless charm that seemed to draw people to him like moths to a flame. He was every bit the picture of youthful brilliance. His blond hair falling just so, his tailored suit lending an air of polished authority. At only 27, his reputation as a genius had already taken hold, making him one of the most admired figures on campus.

Tabitha's pulse quickened, and despite everything she'd told herself, a familiar ache stirred. She caught herself staring a beat too long and forced her gaze down, willing herself to keep moving, to ignore the way his laughter drifted through the hall like an echo of the past she'd vowed to leave behind.

As she moved past, Mr. Albrecht's gaze lingered on her for just a moment, an unspoken familiarity passing between them. It struck Tabitha that he looked at her as though they were simply professor and student—no hint of the brief relationship they'd shared just weeks ago. Any trace of warmth, any acknowledgment of what once existed between them, was absent, as though it had been erased as easily as she had deleted his messages.

But today, she didn't falter. She gave him a faint nod, acknowledging him out of habit, then turned her attention forward while her pace remained steady and unhurried.