Chapter 42

Rowan didn’t sleep.

She lay awake staring at the faint crack in her ceiling where the paint split years ago, counting the hours by the way the darkness shifted. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lila’s face in the hallway: hurt, steady, already bracing herself for disappointment. It was the worst part. Not anger. Not yelling.

Acceptance.

That quiet moment where Lila had already decided she deserved more than Rowan was giving.

By morning, Rowan’s chest felt tight and bruised, like she’d been carrying something heavy for too long and only just realized she was allowed to put it down.

She didn’t wait for the perfect time. Didn’t wait for practice to end or for school to empty or for courage to magically feel easier.

She went looking for Lila the moment the last bell rang.

Her heart was hammering as she crossed the quad, scanning faces, every laugh too loud, every passing second stretching thin. When she finally spotted Lila near the steps by the arts building, sitting alone, phone in hand, posture too still. Rowan almost stopped.

Almost turned away.

Old instincts screamed at her to retreat. To give space. To protect herself from saying the wrong thing.

But then Lila stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and Rowan saw it, the way her smile faded when she realized Rowan was there. The way she braced.

That was it.

Rowan crossed the distance before she could lose her nerve.

“Lila,” she said.

Lila paused. She didn’t turn right away. When she did, her expression was guarded, not angry, just careful, like she was handling something fragile.

“I told you I needed space,” Lila said quietly.

“I know,” Rowan replied. Her voice shook, just a little. “And I’m sorry. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Lila hesitated. Then she nodded toward the side of the building. “Five minutes.”

It was more than Rowan deserved.

They stepped away from the noise of the quad, into the narrow strip of grass behind the building where no one ever lingered. The air felt different here, quieter, heavier. Like the world had narrowed to just them.

Rowan stopped walking first.

She turned to face Lila fully, hands at her sides, fingers curling and uncurling like she didn’t know what to do with them.

“I messed up,” Rowan said.

Lila crossed her arms, a reflex Rowan recognized now as self-protection. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Rowan swallowed. “I let my fear speak louder than how I feel. I did that thing where I half-stand behind you instead of next to you. And I hate myself for it.”

Lila’s jaw tightened. She looked away, eyes fixed on the concrete path. “I’m not asking you to hate yourself.”

“I know,” Rowan said quickly. “You’re asking me to be honest.”

Lila finally looked back at her. “I’m asking you to choose.”

The word hit Rowan square in the chest.

She stepped closer, not touching, but close enough that Lila couldn’t pretend this was casual.

“I didn’t say what I should have,” Rowan said. “When people asked about us. When it mattered. I told myself I was protecting you, protecting us, but that was a lie.”

Lila’s eyes flickered. “Then what was it?”

“I was protecting myself,” Rowan admitted. “From questions. From looks. From consequences.” She let out a shaky breath. “From how much you actually matter to me.”

Silence stretched between them.

Rowan didn’t rush it this time.

“I don’t do almosts,” Lila said softly. “I don’t want to be someone you keep in the quiet.”

“I know,” Rowan said. Her voice cracked. “And you’re right. You deserve more than that.”

Lila shook her head slightly, pain flickering across her face. “Rowan—”

“Please,” Rowan said, gently but firmly. “Let me finish.”

She took another step forward. This time, Lila didn’t step back.

“I’ve spent my whole life being the girl who keeps it together,” Rowan said. “Captain. Reliable. Safe choice. I’ve never let myself want something that could cost me something.”

Her eyes burned. She didn’t look away.

“You cost me my sleep,” she continued. “You cost me my focus. You cost me my breath when you walk into a room. And I still tried to act like you were something I could lose.”

Lila’s breath hitched.

Rowan’s hands trembled now, but she didn’t hide them. “I won’t do that again.”

Lila searched her face, like she was trying to find the catch. “And what happens when it gets hard?”

Rowan didn’t hesitate.

“Then I stand there anyway,” she said. “I don’t step back. I don’t soften it. I don’t pretend.”

She swallowed, voice dropping. “I choose you. Out loud.”

Lila’s eyes glossed over. “You can’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it,” Rowan said immediately. “I mean it so much it scares me.”

Lila let out a shaky laugh that sounded dangerously close to a sob. “You’re really bad at doing things halfway, you know that?”

Rowan smiled faintly. “I’m trying to learn.”

They stood there, inches apart, everything unsaid buzzing between them.

Then Lila asked, quietly, “Am I enough for you?”

Rowan’s chest ached.

She reached out before thinking, fingers brushing Lila’s wrist, giving her time to pull away. She didn’t.

“You’re more than enough,” Rowan said. “You’re the reason I’m finally telling the truth.”

Her mouth formed the next words before her brain could stop them.

“I—”

Lila’s eyes widened, just slightly. Hope flashed there, bright and terrifying.

Rowan froze.

Fear surged, too fast, too loud, but she didn’t retreat this time. She redirected.

“I like you,” Rowan finished, voice rough but steady. “I like you a lot. Enough that I’m not hiding anymore.”

Lila held her gaze for a long moment, clearly catching what Rowan hadn’t said, and what she almost had.

A slow, careful smile tugged at her mouth.

“Okay,” Lila said. “That… that’s a start.”

Rowan exhaled, relief crashing through her so hard her knees almost buckled. “I’m not asking for everything right now. Just—don’t walk away.”

Lila studied her, then nodded. “I won’t. But I need you to keep doing this.”

“I will,” Rowan said. “I promise.”

Lila hesitated, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Rowan’s waist. The hug was gentle but grounding, like she was saying I’m here—but don’t break this.

Rowan closed her eyes and held her back, forehead resting against Lila’s shoulder.

For the first time, the fear didn’t feel louder than the truth.

And this time, 

Rowan wasn’t going to let it be quiet.