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Chapter 6
Between him and my future, I chose my future.
I had never truly considered another option.
I wanted to laugh at how absurd it all was, but my lips wouldn’t move, frozen in something tight and bitter.
And yet
Now that I thought about it, Pax’s act had never been flawless.
The cracks had always been there, thin and almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless
The night we met, 1 was working a part–time shift at a bar when a drunk customer grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer with the kind of entitlement that came from knowing no one would stop him.
Pax had.
He had stepped in, effortlessly peeling the man’s fingers off my arm, his presence alone enough to make the guy stumble back with a mumbled curse.
He hadn’t just defended me–he had handled the situation, smooth and composed, as if confrontation was something he had been raised to navigate.
Then he turned to me, gaze flickering over my face, checking.
“Are you okay?”
His voice had been calm, steady. And before I even had a chance to answer, he had taken my phone, punched in his
number, and saved it.
I should have known then.
The way he carried himself–the quiet confidence, the unconscious authority–it wasn’t something a struggling
college student could fake.
But he had smiled, easy and unbothered, and said,
“I’m just a scholarship kid trying to get by.”
That expensive suit he had been wearing? Borrowed from set, he claimed.
daya
“Some talent agency needed a background actor to play a rich heir. Lucky me, huh? This is probably the nicest thing I’ll ever wear.”
And I had believed him
I was even naive enough to help him look for more part–time jobs, thinking I was helping him the way he had helped me.
The rest was predictable.
23.05
Seven Years of Love Seven Monta
Chapter 6
He chased, I hesitated.
He persisted. I fell.
We moved into this tiny apartment together, vowing to work hard, to build something–a future..
But I understood now.
That future was just something I had to fight for,sounds so ridiculous……
What I had thought was struggling together had only been a game to him–an experiment, a pastime, a lie he lived
mnly because he could.
I didn’t turn on the light.
The room felt too empty, too unfamiliar in the dark.
Then my phone vibrated twice against the nightstand. The screen flickered to life, casting a faint glow across the
sheets.
A message Pax.
An image–My passport.
“Accidentally took this with me.”
My fingers curled around the edge of the blanket, the fabric cool beneath my skin.
A second message appeared.
“Why are you even getting this? Where exactly are you going?”
Stared at the words, my pulse skipping for reasons I didn’t understand.
