CHAPTER 93: THE WEIGHT OF US

’If I broke something in you...tell me how to fix it. Please.’

She stared at the words like they could come alive and hold her accountable.

Her chest cracked open, slow and sharp. She covered her mouth with her hand, as if that could keep the sob in. But it slipped through anyway, a small, broken sound she couldn’t take back.

She wanted to text back. God, she ached to. But what would she say?

That he hadn’t broken her, that he’d done the opposite? That he’d made her feel so alive it scared her? That she was the one who ran because the feelings were overwhelming and too real?

The tears rose again, stinging and stubborn, but she blinked them back, furious at herself for letting it get to her like this.

So she locked the phone again. Held it tight in her hands. And for the first time in three days, let herself miss him out loud.

But the ache didn’t go away.

It only sharpened.

Her thumb hovered, trembling. She told herself again not to do it, that silence was safer but her heart didn’t let her. The not-knowing was worse. The weight of his absence was worse.

Maybe he deserved more than nothing.

Maybe she did too.

’I’m okay’

She typed two words.

And hit send.

She knew it was a lie. But it was the only truth she could bear to offer him, because maybe, just maybe, he was still worried.

If he was still checking his phone, still waiting for something from her, then this would be enough to quiet the silence between them. Just for a moment.

Then she waited.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Nothing.

No dots. No response. No call.

Nothing.

Her phone stayed silent. Her heart didn’t.

Maybe he’d moved on. Maybe he wasn’t even in Spain anymore. And honestly... she wouldn’t blame him if he had.

But as the days went by, God, it hurt.

Not getting a text back from him, it felt suffocating, like holding her breath underwater.

Every morning, she woke up hoping for something and every night, she went to bed with a tighter chest.

She’d glance at her phone, and the disappointment would hit so hard it felt like a punch to the ribs.

So she reminded herself, this was the Craig Lesnar she knew. The cold, arrogant one, maybe the real version of him, the one who didn’t need anyone.

Maybe that night, that look in his eyes—it wasn’t real. Just another lie she let herself believe.

Then Christmas came like a fever dream. Her family filled the house with laughter and lights, the usual noise and chaos of the holidays. They unwrapped gifts in their pajamas.

Melissa cried over an old family ornament they thought they’d lost. Alistair burned the breakfast casserole. Someone got drunk off mimosas before noon.

Merlina smiled when she needed to. Laughed when it was expected.

But inside, everything was quiet in the worst way. Because everything around her was familiar, safe, warm, normal and she couldn’t stop thinking about the one person who had left.

The one who hadn’t texted back.

Not once.

New Year’s Day was finally here, they flew home, back to the States. Back to their house. Back to everything she thought she’d missed.

And two days later, she was packing for Belford, her suitcase full of winter clothes and unending nerves.

She kept telling herself it would be fine. That she could do this. That she would walk into that campus like nothing had happened. Like Craig Lesnar wasn’t the ache she carried into every single day.

But the moment the car pulled up to the dorm, her chest tightened.

The buildings looked the same. The courtyard was just as grey. The bell tower still chimed on the hour. But everything inside her felt different now.

She didn’t know how to live here anymore, without remembering the version of herself who left.

The version who didn’t complicate things. Who tried so hard not to. The version who still had a boyfriend she deserved, one she wasn’t lying to, wasn’t betraying.

The version who wasn’t the worst friend in the world. Who hadn’t let herself get completely distracted from the one thing that was supposed to matter most, her mom’s case.

Her dorm door opened with a soft creak.

"Merlina!" Megan launched across the room and wrapped her in a tight hug. "You’re alive!"

Phoebe grinned from her bed, holding up a box of takeout. "We ordered Thai in your honor."

Merlina smiled faintly, setting her bag down. "I missed you guys."

They chattered about holidays, bad flights, weird relatives. Megan showed off her new shoes. Phoebe was already gossiping about who hooked up at the school’s New Year’s party.

The room had grown warm with laughter and clutter, coats flung over chairs, music low in the background. For a moment, it almost felt easy.

Until Phoebe spoke again.

"Oh, by the way," she said casually, picking at her noodles, "Craig was asking about you."

Merlina paused, her hand hovering over her water glass. "Me?"

Her heart folded in on itself, tight, small, and afraid to move. Then she looked away.

Phoebe shrugged. "Yeah, over the break. He asked if we’d heard from you. And later, I think he wanted to know if you were back yet."

Merlina’s throat dried. "Oh,"

Megan glanced up from her phone. "Why would he ask about her?"

There was a silence, just long enough to feel dangerous. Merlina forced a small shrug, pretending to reach for more water.

"Probably wants to talk about Conor again," she mumbled, then took a sip, her hand trembling just slightly.

Phoebe kept going, oblivious to the subtle panic setting in. "Also, he was in Spain too. Did you know?"

Merlina looked up so fast her hair fell into her face. "What?"

"In Spain. Over the holidays," Phoebe said like it was nothing.

Merlina scoffed, trying to keep her cool. "Why would I know?"

Phoebe didn’t answer, "He Left us in Lake Tahoe and disappeared for a few days. Keith said he went off the grid."

"How do you know...he was in Spain?" Merlina asked before she could stop herself.

Phoebe popped a dumpling into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "I don’t know. He didn’t say anything. I think Keith saw his location on Snap Maps or something. Or maybe he mentioned it in passing, not sure."

Merlina nodded slowly, her mind racing.

He hadn’t told anyone.

But what if he had?

What if Phoebe or Keith knew something ?

"I don’t know, Craig’s been weird," Phoebe went on, not noticing Merlina’s silence. "Like, Keith thinks something happened between him and Adriana. He didn’t say anything outright, but... Craig was definitely off. You don’t just disappear mid-holiday without a reason, you know?"

Merlina shifted in her seat too fast and knocked her knee against the underside of the table. The dull thud made Megan glance over, but Merlina gave a tight smile and adjusted her position like nothing had happened.

Her stomach twisted. It felt like her guilt had taken physical shape. It was sharp, and rising fast.

She gripped the edge of the table, trying to stay still, to stay normal. But inside, everything was loud and the warmth of the room suddenly turned stifling.

"I think I need to step out for a sec," she said, rising quickly. "Just feeling kind of lightheaded. Maybe I’ll go grab something to eat."

Phoebe blinked, casually licking sauce off her thumb. "Oh, Keith and Craig are coming to pick us up in like, ten minutes. They’re taking us to that new Vietnamese place downtown. You know, the one with the insane spring rolls?"

Phoebe turned to Megan, who gave a soft laugh and nodded, already slipping her boots back on.

Merlina froze mid-step, voice barely catching on his name. "Crai..." she swallowed it down, fast. "Keith and Craig?"

"Yeah," Phoebe said, nonchalant. She was already checking her lip gloss in the mirror. "They’re just a few minutes away."

The air thickened. Her skin flushed hot.

"Yeah, I don’t think I can wait," Merlina said abruptly, grabbing her phone.

Phoebe looked up, confused. "Huh?"

"I’m seriously starving," she lied, her voice tight. Her throat felt too dry to swallow.

She moved quickly, slipping on her sneakers with shaky hands, not bothering to lace them. Her jacket was half on. None of it mattered. She needed to get out.

"Wait, Merlina," Phoebe called after her, half-laughing. "You forgot about your Thai—"

But the door had already clicked shut behind her.

Merlina didn’t get far. She hovered at the top of the dorm stairwell, hands gripping the railing like it could keep her upright.

Her breath came shallow and tight in her chest, like someone had cinched something around her ribs.

She didn’t move.

She just stood there. Breathing in. Breathing out. Trying not to fall apart in a hallway that still smelled faintly of Christmas air freshener and lemony floor cleaner.

Was this going to be her life now?

Not even twenty-four hours back and already she couldn’t breathe in her own room. Already she was ducking out of conversations, lying about food, and faking smiles at two girls who had no idea the kind of secret sitting just beneath her skin.

God, what had she done?

She shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have gone to his house. Shouldn’t have kissed him back. Shouldn’t have let it happen.

She didn’t think it through, because if she did, she wouldn’t be standing here now, like a ghost in her own body.

How was she supposed to talk to Phoebe, when every word felt like it could land too close to the truth?

How was she supposed to look Megan in the eye, the sister of the guy she was supposedly still with—when she knew damn well she’d slept with someone else? How was she supposed to keep pretending this wasn’t a disaster she’d created with her own hands?

And Craig? How was she supposed to breathe around him, knowing she still wanted him even when she wasn’t supposed to?

A sound rose in her throat, half-laugh, half-sob but she swallowed it. Clenched her jaw. Told herself to just move.

She needed air.

Anywhere but here.

She slipped down the stairs slowly at first, still not sure where she was even going. Maybe outside. Maybe nowhere. Maybe just far enough to pretend this wasn’t happening.

But the moment she pushed through the front doors of the dorm building, she froze.

They were right there.

Keith, scrolling through his phone. And Craig, arms crossed beside the car, head down.

Then his eyes lifted.

And found hers.

Her heart dropped.

She wasn’t ready. It was too soon.

He didn’t look ready either. Like he’d wanted this, needed this. But now, looking at her hurt.