Chapter Thirteen – A Romance Begins
For the first few weeks, Eliana almost convinced herself she had made the right choice.
William was everything a girl could hope for—reliable, thoughtful, endlessly patient. He showed up outside her classes with coffee just the way she liked it: light cream, two sugars. He carried her books when her arms were too full. He listened, really listened, when she rambled about her favorite authors or about her childhood piano lessons.
And when he looked at her, it wasn't casual or fleeting. His gaze was steady, reverent, like she was something rare and precious.
One afternoon, they sat under the sprawling oak tree near the campus fountain, the air buzzing with cicadas. Eliana had a textbook open in her lap, but she wasn't reading. William leaned against the trunk, legs stretched out, watching her instead.
"You know," he said softly, "you don't even realize how beautiful you are when you're lost in thought."
Eliana's cheeks warmed. She laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's cheesy."
He tilted his head, smiling. "Maybe. But it's true. Every time I see you, Ellie… I feel like I've been waiting my whole life to catch up to you."
Her heart fluttered despite herself.
---
Evenings with William felt like a dream spun from warm light and soft edges. He took her to quiet cafés where they lingered over pastries and tea, to bookshops where he bought her first editions of novels she adored, to the rooftop of his apartment building where the city lights glittered like spilled diamonds.
One night, as they leaned against the railing, the wind tugging at Eliana's hair, William slipped his arm around her shoulders.
"I don't need stars," he murmured. "Not when I have you."
Eliana closed her eyes, letting the words sink in. He meant them—every syllable rang with sincerity. And yet, her chest tightened. Because somewhere deep inside, she imagined Stephen saying something entirely different—something reckless, daring, unpredictable.
---
Back on campus, whispers started to follow them. "Eliana and William—they're so perfect together," people would say. "She's so lucky. He's every girl's dream."
And William was.
But perfection had a strange way of feeling heavy.
---
One weekend, William surprised her with tickets to the orchestra downtown. He knew she loved classical music, knew she had dreamed of being a pianist before life forced her into practicality.
As the violins swelled and the cellos hummed, Eliana sat beside him, her hand resting in his. She glanced sideways at William's profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his mouth—and felt a pang of guilt.
Here was a man who gave her everything she could ever need. Safety. Stability. Love.
And yet, her heart refused to stop wandering.
---
After the concert, they walked along the riverfront. Lanterns floated in the water, casting golden ripples across the surface. William stopped, turning to her.
"Eliana," he said, voice low.
She looked up, startled by the intensity in his eyes.
"I know you're still figuring out what you feel. And that's okay. I'll wait as long as you need." He took her hands, pressing them against his chest. "But I need you to know—my heart is yours. Completely. No conditions, no doubts. You're it for me."
Her throat tightened, eyes stinging. His words were everything she should want to hear. Words any girl would kill for.
She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. "You're… you're too good to me, William."
He leaned down, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "Not too good," he whispered. "Just yours."
---
That night, lying in bed, Eliana replayed his words over and over. They should have been enough to silence the ache inside her.
But in her dreams, it wasn't William standing by the river.
It was Stephen. His hand gripping hers, his voice daring her to leap into chaos.
And when she woke, her heart was racing—toward a man she couldn't have.