Page 125 of From the Wreckage

We stay tangled together for a while, the silence companionable, the kind I never thought we’d get back. Eventually, though, reality presses in, and the words sitting heavy on my tongue demand to be spoken.

“Everett?”

“Hmm?” He tips his head, eyes still closed, but I feel the brush of his lips against my hair.

“I don’t… I don’t think I can go back to campus yet.”

That makes his eyes open, sharp and concerned. He shifts just enough to look at me. “Bri….”

“I know what you’re gonna say. That I shouldn’t let him take anything else from me. That I should keep moving forward. But right now?” My throat tightens, but I push through. “Right now,the thought of walking those halls, pretending I’m fine, sitting in classes like nothing happened… I can’t. I’m not ready.”

His hand comes up, cupping my cheek. There’s no judgment in his gaze, only fierce protectiveness. “Then don’t. You don’t owe anyone anything. Least of all that place.”

A tear slips free, and I nod, relief loosening the knot in my chest.

Later,at breakfast, I sit across from Dad at the kitchen table, Everett at my side. My fork scrapes against the plate as I finally say it out loud.

“I think I’m going to take a leave of absence from college. I don’t want to go back right now.”

Dad’s fork stills halfway to his mouth. His brows draw together, but not with anger—just worry. He sets the fork down, folding his hands. “That’s a big decision.”

“I know.” I glance between him and Everett, drawing strength from both of them. “But it’s mine. And I need to breathe before I can face all of that again.”

Dad studies me for a long moment, then exhales slowly. “Okay. Then we’ll figure it out.”

Just like that, some of the weight on my shoulders lifts. Not gone. But lighter.

I glance at Everett, and the look in his eyes—relief, pride, love—tells me I made the right choice.

CHAPTER 92

Brielle

The campus feels different.Smaller. Meaner. Like the walls themselves know what happened here and whisper about it when I pass.

Everett’s hand squeezes mine as we walk across the quad toward the administration building so I can take a leave of absence. His presence is steady, grounding, but my pulse still stutters like it’s trying to escape my body. I keep my head down, praying to avoid anyone I know.

No such luck.

“Brielle!” The sharp, syrupy voice makes me freeze.Shit. It’s Meghan.

I turn, bracing myself. She’s leaning against a bench like she’s been waiting, phone in hand, lip gloss shining in the sun. And she’s not alone.

Joey stands next to her.

My stomach drops, bile burning my throat.

Meghan smirks, eyes flicking to Everett and back to me. “Well, well, well. Guess the rumors are true. Back with the old man, huh?”

I stiffen, shame flooding me. Until Everett growls low in his chest, stepping closer. His jaw flexes, his entire body radiating danger. Meghan falters but covers it with a laugh.

Joey doesn’t flinch. He smirks, too. “What, Bri? Too good to talk to your friends now?”

Friends.The word makes my skin crawl.

I lift my chin, my voice trembling but louder than I thought possible. “You’renotmy friends. You never were.”

Meghan tilts her head, faux sympathy dripping from her words. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so dramatic. You went to the party willingly.”