Desired by All and He Threw Away 39

“Dont get any ideas that will never fucking happen“” 

he said it like a warning to them- but it feels like a warning to me too. 

i press my fork down a little too hard.the lettuce crunches under it the sound sharp in my ears. 

What was that? Was it instinct? Control? Or something else entirely? 

I look up again despite myself. Aiden’s head is bent toward his plate now his expression unreadable.the faint tension at the corners of his mouth is the only sign that something just cracked open in him however briefly. 

he runs a hand through his hair exhales and says something i cant hear.His teammates nod quickly eager to move on pretending the last minute never happened. 

But i cant. 

Because even after everything- the walls he built the distance hes kept- he still defended me.Not as a coworker. Not as part of some convenient lie. But as if he couldn’t stop himself. 

My salad has gone cold. i eat it anyway letting the taste anchor me.Around me the cafeteria starts to come alive again. conversations resume in careful tones. 

the scrape of a chair the low hum of laughter returning in cautious waves But the space between Aiden and me feels charged fragile like a wire pulled too tight. 

I should look away. i should remind myself that this–whatever it is- isnt real. its an arrangement a performance meant to protect his image and i agreed to it. 

i signed the invisible contract that said feelings werent part of the deal.so why does my chest feel unsteady? why does his voice echo in my head like its found a home there? 

the door at the far end opens letting in a rush of cool air.a few people glance up as sunlight spills across the tables dust floating like tiny gold sparks in its path.the smell of rain drifts in- fresh metallic faintly sweet. 

Aiden stands then, gathering his tray. Conversations dim again, just slightly, as he passes. He doesn’t look at 

anyone. 

Doesnt look at me either But when he moves past my table his hand brushes against the edge of my chair. The smallest touch. Almost nothing. 

Still it feels like everything. 

the scent of his cologne lingers–clean and faintly citrus familiar enough to twist something in my chest.he sets his tray down by the return window thanks the cafeteria staff quietly, and leaves. 

the door swings shut behind him and just like that the air feels heavier again. 

i stare at the empty space he leaves behind my hands flat on the table the hum of conversation rising and falling 

around me. 

Somewhere to my left Vanessa laughs too brightly at something that doesn’t seem funny.Lara glances at me from across the room with quiet understanding in her eyes though she says nothing. 

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Chapter 39 

+25 Bonus 

i push my tray away and lean back pretending to check my phone any reflection stares back at me in the dark screen–composed and unreadable. The way I’ve trained myself to be. 

but inside, everything is shifting. 

because the line between whats pretend and what is real doesnt feel like a line anymore It feels more like a blur. 

and i cant tell which side im standing on. 

i take one last bite of my salad, its now cold and bitter then I gather my things, the rain outside has started to fall soft and steady drumming against the windows.some where in that sound i hear his voice again.Low. Controlled. Fierce. 

“dont get any ideas that will never fucking happen“.” 

Snap out of it Taylor, what he did is for publicity, remember your just his fake girlfriend. 

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