CHAPTER 94: SPOTTED

She looked okay.

Just like the damn text.

But he wasn’t okay, and God help him, that’s what gutted him the most.

Not the cold. Not the way the dorm doors swung open. Not even the way his heart stuttered like a dying engine in his chest.

No. It was her. Standing there, hair falling over one shoulder, cheeks flushed from the winter air.

She looked...normal, beautiful, untouched. Like she hadn’t been wrecked the way he was. Like she’d slept through the nights that kept him wide awake.

As if nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t disappeared after they slept together, she hadn’t ghosted him for three whole days, leaving his messages unread, making him spiral into every worst-case scenario imaginable.

Every sound outside made him look up. Every flash of light, every passing car. He thought maybe she’d come back. Maybe she’d left something behind.

But the only thing she left was him.

He’d checked in with Phoebe. With Keith. Hated himself for it, but did it anyway.

’Have heard from Merlina?’

’Is she back yet?’

Every time the words left his mouth, it tasted like shame. Because what kind of guy begged for breadcrumbs like this? That definitely wasn’t him.

He even called the damn phone company, asking if they could confirm if her number was still active. He knew it was a long shot, but the fear had gotten that deep.

His imagination went wild, what if something happened to her? What if she was hurt? Or worse?

But no one could give him anything.

So yeah. When his plane touched down in Los Angeles and her message finally came through.

’I’m okay’

He didn’t text back.

Because he wasn’t.

Because it was too damn late.

What was he supposed to say to her ? ’Good to know you’re alive ? Thank you for completely ruining my nights ? I miss you ?’

No. He’d said too much already. He’d begged, once. He wasn’t going to do it again.

He’d crossed oceans for her. Left Lake Tahoe, left Keith, left the comfort zone he had and flown halfway across the world, all alone, because he saw a goddamn Instagram story of her, excited about a carnival and needed to see her.

It had been stupid. Reckless.

But he didn’t care.

He knew exactly where she’d be in few days, the name of the Carnival, the time, the location. He knew the odds were low, but the chance, just the chance of seeing her again had been enough.

It was also the only thing that made sense.

Because those long and quiet hours on the plane, weren’t even hard compared to the nights he’d spent missing her. Compared to the ache that lived in his chest ever since he tried to stay away.

And finally he found her...that night at the Carnival, she was shocked but she also looked at him like she had missed him too.

Like maybe she’d been hurting too. That night and what followed after hadn’t been planned. It hadn’t been pretty.

But it was real.

Real enough to ruin him.

So yeah.

He was angry.

He was hurt.

But mostly, he was tired of chasing someone who kept running.

And yet, here she was, suddenly, like a storm cloud he’d been chasing finally cracked open, but all it did was drench him in silence.

He couldn’t move at first. Could barely breathe. Just stood there, arms crossed, watching her face shift when their eyes met. Hesitation, panic, guilt, all flashing across her expression in a second.

But not heartbreak. Not like the kind he’d been dragging around since Spain.

His jaw tightened. He felt Keith glance over but he didn’t look away from her. He couldn’t. Not after the way she left. Not after the way it ended.

If anything even began in the first place.

What was that night to her? A moment? A mistake? Because it hadn’t felt like either to him.

"Merlina!" Keith’s voice cut through the storm of Craig’s thoughts like a jagged shard of ice.

She blinked at the sound, so did Craig.

Keith stepped forward, offering that easy, lopsided grin of his, completely unaware he’d just wandered into a minefield.

"Happy New Year," he said cheerfully, already pulling her into a brief, awkward hug.

Merlina smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. It was a polite kind of smile. The kind you give to strangers at family reunions. "Hey," she said, her voice light. Too light. "How are you?"

"I’m good!" Keith replied, grinning. "Still recovering from New Year’s, honestly. Too many shots, not enough sleep. But hey, back to real life now, right?"

Merlina gave a small laugh and nodded. "Right."

It was the kind of nod you give when you’re not really listening. When your head is somewhere else entirely. And hers was caught between the weight of Craig’s silence beside her and the thousand things running through her mind.

Craig said nothing.

Merlina didn’t look at him either.

That silence was loud and awkward enough beneath their feet.

Keith glanced between them, brows knitting just slightly, as if trying to piece together the weird energy.

Then Craig said to Keith, too casually, "You can go ahead. I’ll wait here."

Merlina didn’t even wait for Keith to respond. She just nodded quickly and took a step away. "Okay. I’ll see you guys later."

Craig’s voice cut through the air. Low sharp, and impossible to ignore. "Where the hell do you think you’re going?"

That stopped her.

Even Keith flinched at the tone.

Merlina looked at him, startled, then looked at Keith, as if to confirm he heard it too. As if hoping someone else could pull her out of the moment.

But Craig’s eyes were steady and unforgiving.

He hadn’t moved, not really. Just that one question. But it felt like a sword being pulled out.

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

Keith cleared his throat. "Right... I’ll, uh—I’ll just go get Phoebe," he said awkwardly, shooting Craig a look.

But Craig didn’t even glance at him. Just kept staring at her.

Once Keith disappeared, Merlina exhaled sharply and clutched her scarf like it was something to hold onto. Her fingers trembled against the fabric.

"Hey," she said quietly.

He raised a brow. That was it?

"Hey?" he echoed, a dry, hollow sound in his throat. "Really."

Merlina swallowed. Her eyes darted sideways, toward the hallway, toward anything but him. "What do you want me to say?"

Craig scoffed. His jaw tightened, teeth clenched behind the effort not to say everything too loud. Not to blow this whole thing up right here. But the restraint was thin. Too thin.

"Is that what it is with you?" he said, voice pitched low, like a match just shy of catching flame.

She blinked. "What? I don’t—"

He took a step toward her, lowering his voice even as the anger simmered just beneath it.

"You kiss me, you ghost me. You sleep with me, and you ghost me again. Is that a pattern now, some damn cycle I’m supposed to get used to?"

His voice wasn’t raised. But it didn’t have to be. Every word cracked open something raw in the air between them.

Merlina looked stunned. Genuinely stunned. Her mouth parted, but nothing came out.

Then, sharp and urgently, "Are you seriously doing this here?" she hissed, voice barely above a whisper. "Craig, you know... someone might be watching—"

"I don’t care," he snapped, just as quiet but twice as brutal.

She looked around, panicked, but still said nothing. Her eyes darted to the side again. Over Craig’s shoulder. Past the entranceway.

A couple students passed by, none of them lingering, but her heart was racing like someone had shone a spotlight directly on them.

The start of semester foot traffic had begun again. People were trickling in. Not a crowd but enough to be seen.

He wasn’t shouting, but she still felt naked under the weight of his words. She shifted her weight, took another half step back, trying to end it before it spun out of control.

Craig’s hand caught her wrist, not roughly, but firm. Firm enough to stop her. "You can’t walk away from this."

Her eyes were wide now. She tried to pull back, but he didn’t let go.

"If I did this to you," Craig continued, his voice almost shaking now, "if I disappeared after everything that happened between us, would you let it go? Would you be this calm? Or would you curse me out? Call me a names? Say it’s a Lesnar thing?"

The words lodged in her throat, but it was her heart that took the hit. Stumbling and stuttering, like it didn’t know whether to break or fight back.

"What does that make you, then?" he demanded. "Do you have any idea what the hell you put me through? I thought you were—God, I thought something happened to you."

She couldn’t speak.

Her heartbeat was too loud, her fingers too unsteady in his grip, and all she could think was how exposed she felt, like everyone could see the wreckage of what they’d done.

"Craig—" she whispered.

"No. Don’t ’Craig’ me now."

"I said we can’t do this here," she pleaded. Her voice was breathless now. Like her throat was closing up. Her eyes kept moving, scanning faces, doors, windows. Looking for cover. Looking for escape.

She tried to pry his hand from her wrist, fingers trembling slightly, but Craig didn’t let go. Not at first.

She tried to walk away again, then without warning, he released her wrist, only to grab her arm instead, firmer this time.

He wasn’t rough, but the message was clear: you’re not walking away from this. He pulled her slightly toward him, not face-to-face, but from the side, like he needed her close enough to hear every word that followed.

"I spent days wondering if you were okay," he said, voice low but razor-sharp. "Calling people I didn’t need to. Checking in. I even called the fucking phone company, Merlina. You left me in the dark, and then you show up here and try to act like it was nothing?"

She opened her mouth. Closed it again.

She could feel the tension in him. He was angry, barely contained, and something in her knew that trying to talk him down would only make it worse.

A part of her knew she deserved this reaction from him, she cursed herself, for ghosting, for not being mature and talking things through, because if she had, none of this outburst would be happening.

So she didn’t argue. Didn’t plead.

She looked around again. Frantic now. Because this was Craig Lesnar, she knew someone had to be watching. Someone—

Her stomach sank when she saw it.

Phoebe.

She was standing a few feet away, just outside the dorm entrance with Keith, both of them frozen mid-step, eyes locked on her and Craig. Phoebe’s gaze dropped slowly, to the hand Craig still had wrapped around Merlina’s arm.

Phoebe’s face was impossible to read, but the way she was staring...God, she’d seen everything.

A wave of nausea rolled through Merlina, gut-deep and dizzying.

She turned to Craig, voice urgent, low. "Let me go...Phoebe’s watching."