The next day came like a blur. I woke up with mixed emotions—part of me glowing from Devon's text last night, the other part weighed down by guilt. I kept telling myself, "Hazel, this is not your man. He has a girlfriend. Stop it." But then I'd remember the way he looked at me… the way he carried me… the way he said he wanted to kiss me.
And suddenly, I didn't care what boundaries were there. I wanted him.
After doing my usual morning routine, I sat on my bed and stared at the yellow sweatshirt again. It still smelled like him. I hated that I liked that so much.
Divine walked in mid-sigh.
"You okay?" she asked, dropping her bag on the chair.
I nodded quickly, trying to act unbothered. "Yeah. Just tired."
She didn't believe me—of course she didn't—but she let it go.
Later that afternoon, I went outside to get some air. I sat near the volleyball court, headphones in, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. That's when I saw Devon again.
But this time… he wasn't alone.
Blair—his actual girlfriend—was right there, holding his arm like a trophy. And he was just standing there, smiling at her. Whispering something in her ear that made her giggle.
Something inside me shattered a little.
I quickly looked away and pretended to be glued to my phone screen, but I felt the sting. It hurt. Even though I had no right to feel this way, it still hurt.
I wasn't just "obsessed" anymore.
I was emotionally invested. And now, seeing them together was the wake-up call I didn't ask for.
I stood up and walked away. I didn't want him to see me. I didn't want her to see me. I just wanted to breathe.
A few minutes later, I was near the hostel when I heard my name again.
"Haze!"
Only one person calls me that.
I turned slowly.
It was him.
He jogged up to me, slightly out of breath. "Hey. Didn't see you this morning."
"Yeah," I said shortly. "I was busy."
There was a weird silence between us.
He studied my face. "You okay?"
"I'm fine." I replied.
Another pause.
"About yesterday…" he began.
I interrupted him. "It was a moment. It's passed."
His expression changed. "That's not what I was going to say."
"Then what were you going to say?" I asked, folding my arms.
He looked down. "I was going to say… it meant something. To me."
I stared at him. "You're with her, Devon."
He sighed. "I know. It's complicated."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's really not. You're either with her or you're not. I can't be someone's second choice."
He stepped forward. "You're not a second anything."
"Then prove it," I whispered.
We stood there, in silence, just breathing. It was intense. I could tell he wanted to say something more, but he didn't. And I didn't push it either.
After a while, I walked away. This time, he didn't stop me.
That night, I laid in bed, the yellow sweatshirt still folded beside me, untouched.
For the first time since all of this started…
I wished I had never met him.
Later that night, just as I was beginning to fall asleep, I got a text from an unknown number.
"Can we talk I'm outside.-D"
I stared at the screen, heart pounding. I didn't even bother to reply. I just threw on my hoodie and limped to the door.
When I stepped out, there he was—Devon. Leaning against the wall, arms folded, eyes locked on mine the moment I appeared.
He looked… conflicted.
"Hey," he said, almost in a whisper.
"Hi," I replied.
"I wanted to explain earlier," he began. "About what happened with Blair."
I said nothing.
He looked at me, then looked away like the words hurt to say. "She found out something was off. She asked me if I had feelings for someone else. I told her the truth."
My breath caught. "And?"
"She asked me to choose."
He paused.
"I chose her."
My chest tightened like I'd been punched.
I tried not to show it. I kept my face blank even though my heart was screaming.
"Oh," I managed to say.
"But—" he said quickly, stepping forward, "that doesn't mean I don't feel something for you."
I blinked. "You just told me you chose her, Devon."
"I know. I know it sounds bad. But I can't stop thinking about you, Hazel."
His voice dropped.
"You're the one I feel drawn to… the one I want to be around. She's familiar—but you—"
He exhaled.
"You're the one that excites me."
My jaw clenched. "Then why did you stay with her?"
He looked pained. "Because it's complicated. I've known her for years. I thought maybe it was the right thing. But with you… it feels real, even though it's wrong."
I stared at him, trying to stay strong. "You can't have both of us, Devon."
"I know," he said softly. "But I still want to be around you."
I took a step back. "You don't get to want me when I'm not your choice."
And with that, I turned and walked away, holding back the tears.
Back in my room, I collapsed on the bed, hot tears stinging my eyes. Why did it hurt this much?
He said he chose her.
But then he said he wanted me.
It was worse than rejection—it was confusion. It was emotional war.
And the worst part?
I still wanted him too.