Felicity's POV.
In that moment, something inside me clicked into place. Like my heart had been waiting—just waiting—for him all along. I didn't say the words out loud. I didn't need to. Not yet.
Not while Mia's shadow still lingered. Not while the storm hadn't fully passed. But in my chest, the truth pulsed loud and clear: I love you, Christopher.
And somehow… from the way he smiled down at me, like I was the only girl in the world—he already knew. I smiled back, and we walked on, hand in hand, toward whatever chaos came next.
Because even though this kiss was real. The storm wasn't over. Not yet.
The after-party at the bar was already in full swing by the time we arrived.
Music pounded through the speakers, the bass buzzing through the floor and straight into my shoes. Fairy lights blinked overhead like tired stars, casting a warm, cozy glow across the college garden. Laughter echoed through the summer air, mixing with clinking glasses and the occasional tipsy yell from someone who'd clearly had too much.
The courtyard glowed warm and golden, buzzing with music, laughter, and just the right amount of college chaos. Everyone was there—Penelope, rocking a ridiculous feathered crown and dancing like she owned the night. Mia, off to the side, sipping something sharp and eyeing us like she was analyzing every move. Christopher's friends were loud, half-drunk, and already well into their third round of drinks.
"LOOK WHO DECIDED TO SHOW UP!" Penelope shouted across the crowd, waving a bottle of apple cider. I laughed and waved back, feeling a strange mix of excitement... and nerves.
And then—Alex. My heart tripped. He was across the bar, drink in hand, mid-conversation with someone... but his eyes? They were locked on me. No—on us. On Christopher's hand, resting snugly around my waist like he belonged there.
The second Alex saw it, I swear, his grip on the glass tightened like he might actually crush it. His jaw tensed. Shoulders stiffened. Jealousy rolled off him like heat waves off pavement.
Without thinking, I slipped my hand away from Christopher's waist. Guilt? Maybe. Panic? Definitely. But whatever it was, I suddenly felt way too visible.
Then Chris leaned into me—partly because it felt safe. Mostly because he wanted Alex to see. And oh, Alex saw. He was glaring at Chris's hand like he wanted to set it on fire.
Chris's fingers tightened slightly on my waist, like he felt it too. Like he was silently saying, Yeah, mate. She's with me now.
But the way Alex was looking at us… it wasn't just anger. It was something deeper. Sadder. It looked a lot like heartbreak.
And in that moment, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.
Then—out of nowhere—a small voice in my head whispered something I hadn't thought about in a long, long time. Back before Christopher. Before Oxford. Before the chaos and drama… there had been a boy. Not Alex. Not this mess.
His name was Theo.
And the way Alex looked at me right now? It reminded me of Theo. Of heartbreak. Of what-ifs. Of the boy that crushed my soul.
Chris leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. "Relax, love. He's just jealous. Probably regretting whatever dumb thing he didn't do to lose you."
I raised a brow at him. "Did you really have to say that?"
He grinned, completely unbothered. "Absolutely. It's part of my charm."
Penelope crashed into us before I could fire back something witty. "Okay, you two are ridiculously hot right now— like someone snap a picture before the moment melts. Anyway! I need drinks, drama, and a dance-off in ten minutes, so wrap up the couple thing, swoony eye-staring and join the madness. Chop-chop, lovebirds."
She grabbed my hand and twirled me dramatically like I was in a ballroom and not a grassy courtyard full of half-drunk undergrads. Then, in a singsong whisper near my ear, she added,
"Oh, also—Mia's here. She's pretending like you don't exist, which means she's absolutely up to something. Possibly your downfall. Definitely emotional. Most likely a meltdown, a scandal, or some tragic attempt to win back her dignity. Honestly? Probably all three—with glitter."
I froze for a split second, then forced a smile that probably looked steadier than I felt. My brain was juggling too much: Fantastic. My fake-almost boyfriend who felt a little too real. My fake-fake enemies—who were very much not pretending. A room full of people who either didn't like me, wanted to be me, or didn't know who they were to me anymore.
All of us crammed into one overly glamorous party.
What could possibly go wrong? A night bursting with secrets. A prince pretending to be normal—with dimples and denim. A jealous friend-slash-almost-lover who was never really my lover. And Mia... being Mia, which usually meant drama was simmering dangerously close by.
The air grew thicker, like the whole room was holding its breath. My smile faltered for a second—but just barely. I wasn't about to give Mia the satisfaction of seeing me flinch. Not tonight. Not when Christopher's hand was wrapped in mine, steady and warm—like a promise neither of us was ready to break.
I laughed awkwardly and turned to Penelope, offering her a weak smile. But my eyes drifted back—couldn't help it. Across the bar, Alex was still staring. His eyes burned at first—sharp, searching. Then something shifted. No fire. Just… something quiet. Like he wanted to say something. Like maybe he should've said something, a long time ago. I glanced away, then back again. There he was.
Still watching. Still intense. Still completely unreadable.
His eyes locked on mine like he could feel it too—the pull, the tension, the unfinished business. I blinked and turned away, fast toward the crowd—and paused.
But the weight of his stare stayed with me like the calm before a storm. Heavy. Familiar. Dangerous.
Chris's hand brushed gently against my cheek, steady and grounding—like he always was. His touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, soft but sure.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
I nodded. Lied through my teeth. "Totally fine."
But inside?
I was unraveling. I was falling apart. Because nothing about this night felt simple anymore. And someone—maybe all of us was on the verge of breaking.
The truth? I was not fine.
I was standing in the middle of glitter, gossip, and lies,
Wearing a smile that fooled everyone but me. With a crown no one could see, but one I felt pressing hard on my chest. And the only person I truly trusted...Was the boy standing beside me.
A prince hiding in plain sight—Whose kisses tasted like home and whose smile made the whole world fall quiet.
I exhaled shakily. He leaned closer. "You sure? We can leave. Say the word."
Gosh. His voice. That voice that could command kingdoms and still melt just for me.
I shook my head and steadied myself. "No. I want to stay."
He studied me for a second too long, then nodded, brushing his lips against my temple.
And suddenly, for one brief moment, I wasn't falling apart. I was just a girl at a party. Dancing with a boy no one knew was royalty. Under fairy lights and secrets. And for now…That was enough.
**********
Alex's POV.
She walked in—and it was her. I'd already suspected. Felt it in my chest the first time I saw her on campus. That spark. That recognition I couldn't explain. But when I heard her name—when she said it out loud—I froze. Felicity. It hit me like a punch to the gut. I was shocked. Taken completely off guard.
But now? That laugh. The way her hair shimmered under the lights. The way she bit her lip when she was nervous. It was Felicity. My Felicity.
The same girl I'd known back then at high school. The same one I'd hurt. The one I turned down because I was too scared, too proud… too much of a damn coward.
And now? She was here. In Oxford. At this party. With him. And his hand was on her waist like he owned her. Like he had a right to touch her like that. Like I hadn't once dreamed about holding her the same way.
My fists clenched at my sides. Christopher bloody Blake.
I had a new name.
A fake smile.
And a heart that had never stopped beating for her.
I was born and raised in Wales, United Kingdom. But we moved to America—and that's where I found her. Where we became best friends. After everything that happened with my family—the scandal, the press, the whispers. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave. I had to disappear.
It wasn't just the headlines.
It was what was said behind closed doors—whispers that turned into screams when no one was watching.
My father's dirty deals exploded across the news, and suddenly, being Theodore Owen wasn't just complicated—it was dangerous. My name became a stain. My life? Swallowed by scandal and shame.
But the worst part? It wasn't just about the money.
He wasn't just cheating on my mother. He was living a double life. Another house. Another woman. Another child.
A secret family hidden away in the countryside, like something out of a twisted fairytale.
And when it all came out? Boom. Everything blew up.
My mother found out through a news alert—not even a phone call. The press ate it up: "Tech Tycoon's Love Child Revealed." Photos. Interviews. Screaming matches in parking lots. It was everywhere.
I couldn't go to school without hearing whispers. Couldn't open social media without seeing my last name trending. And Felicity—Gosh, she saw it all.
The betrayal. The broken family. The chaos. She was there for me—through all of it. But I did the unthinkable.
I let her down and I pushed her away anyway.
I told myself it was to protect her. That she didn't deserve to be dragged into the mess my life had become. But the truth? I couldn't handle being seen like that. Not by her.
When she asked me to prom, I should've said yes. Gosh, I wanted to. But instead… I let her down and humiliated her in the worst way. I took another girl. Cut ties. Watched her walk away without looking back because if I did, I'd never survive it.
Everything spiraled after that. I dropped the name "Theodore Owen" like it burned. New city. New uni. New name. A fresh start… or so I told myself.
So I disappeared. Changed my name. Moved back to England. Became "Alexander." A clean slate. A chance to lay low.
Now I go by Alex.
People assume it's short for Alexander. It's not. It's just... easier. No history. No weight. Just a name I could hide behind.
I told myself it was for a fresh start. But the truth? I just couldn't face her.
Still, no matter how far I ran or what name I used, the past didn't really let go. And tonight—there it is. Wearing glitter heels and glossy lips. Felicity.
The girl I ran from. The girl I never stopped thinking about. But more than anything…I needed to get away from her.
Because seeing her back then, watching her look at me like I'd shattered her—ruined me.
The last time I saw Felicity…she looked at me like I'd broken her. And maybe I did. I never said sorry. Never explained. I just disappeared.
And now… she was ten feet away. Pretending not to see me. Pretending like we were strangers. I couldn't take it.
So I started walking.