Part 2You Wooed The Wrong Roommate

The sleep vanished from my veins instantly.

I glanced over. Blakely’s bed was empty.

I scrambled down, moving purely on adrenaline. A part of me wanted to dress up, to look perfect, but a larger part panicked at the thought of keeping him waiting.

I threw on a heavy oversized coat, pulled a surgical mask over my face to hide my swollen eyes, and bolted downstairs.

During that three-minute elevator ride, a thousand wild hopes bloomed in my chest.

The most logical explanation? He spent the night with Blakely and realized her vibe, her way of speaking, completely contradicted the girl he’d been texting for a year.

He figured it out. He was here to apologize...

"Faye."

His voice cut through the brisk morning air - crisp, resonant, beautiful.

I tried to steady my erratic breathing, keeping my eyes cast downward.

My gaze landed on his wrist. He was wearing the matte-black watch we had spent a whole night picking out together online.

I let out a muffled, hesitant, "Yeah."

"What is it that you want?" Holden asked.

My head snapped up.

I looked at him through my thick-rimmed glasses.

His face was an unreadable mask of stone. His eyes, usually so warm in my imagination, were devastatingly cold.

"Blakely was crying all night," he said, his voice laced with ice. "Because of you. I don’t know when you first found out about me, or when you developed this little obsession - "

He let out a harsh breath, his brow furrowing as he raked a disgusted look over me. He was barely keeping a lid on his impatience.

"Let me make this perfectly clear. The girl I want is Blakely. Now, and forever. That isn't going to change. So I’d appreciate it if you stopped taking your jealousy out on her. Do you understand?"

Tears instantly blurred the edges of the world.

I dug my nails into my palms, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.

"Actually... the person who was texting you all year... it was me."

The moment the words hung in the air, a cruel, mocking laugh dropped from above me.

"Blakely called it," he sneered. "She said you were exactly this kind of person. She warned me you’d do anything to get your way - even lie and claim you were the one behind the screen."

The look he gave me then was one of pure, visceral repulsion. He leaned in, his expression deadly serious.

"So let me spell it out for you. Even if it "had" been you, I would never look at you twice. I only want Blakely - "

I stopped breathing for a second.

Then, a quiet, self-deprecating laugh slipped from my lips.

I unclasped the matching matte-black watch from my own wrist - the one I’d bought to match his - and dropped it onto the concrete.

As I turned my back to walk away, I heard a flicker of hesitation in his voice.

"Faye - "