(Lara POV)
Sunday morning tasted like humiliation and sleep deprivation.
I woke up with a headache — not alcohol-induced anymore — but emotional stupidity–induced.
I lay there staring at the ceiling.
Stupid.
I was very, very stupid.
It hadn't even been a full week since winter break ended.
A WEEK
Seven days.
One of which where Vince randomly showed up like a human golden retriever with good hair and the audacity to act like everything was normal.
And now… this.
I groaned into my fluffy pillow.
Two meet-ups.
That was all.
Dinner when he visited the campus.
Bowling and drinks on Friday.
That was nothing.
That was a microscopic fraction of time.
And yet here I was, clutching my phone like a tragic Victorian heroine waiting for a letter from the front lines.
My phone stayed silent.
No messages.
Not a single hey you alive?
Not a don't forget to eat.
Not even a lazy meme.
Who am I even kidding? Vince didn't send memes. Vince was a meme.
Still.
Nothing.
