Chapter 3

Brielle’s face drained of color. Before she could answer: CRASH! Caden shot to his feet, tipping the coffee table with a violent shove. Beer bottles flew, glass shattering across the hardwood floor. The entire room froze. No one moved, all eyes locked on Caden’s thunderous expression, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing beneath his fitted shirt as his breath came hard and fast. “You ask a girl shit like that, and you think that’s fucking okay?” he snarled, voice a deep, guttural roar. Bryce sobered up instantly, face pale as he stared down at the mess. Brielle stood abruptly, her voice unsteady. “I’m not feeling well. I should go.” Without another word, she turned and hurried toward the door. Caden kicked a piece of broken glass across the room, his jaw clenched tight. “I need a smoke,” he growled, storming out after her, broad shoulders tense and fists curled at his sides. As soon as he left, the tension broke. “Holy shit. That escalated fast.” Derek let out a breath. “Dude was just joking about his own hookups. Why the hell did he lose it like that?” Logan asked, wide-eyed. Tyler shook his head, lowering his voice. “You guys really that dense? It’s one thing when he jokes about himself. Brielle’s a different story. Off limits. You get it?” The explanation hung in the air. The group went quiet—until they noticed Alora, still seated, her face completely drained of color. Her stomach clenched, another sharp cramp twisting through her gut. She pushed to her feet without a word and walked out, legs barely steady beneath her. At the front of the house, the night air hit her skin like ice. She rounded the corner just in time to see Caden and Brielle by Brielle’s car. Brielle tossed a small paper bag onto the ground between them. “No thanks. I don’t accept gifts from guys who already have girlfriends.” “Come on—” Caden’s voice was tight with frustration, but pleading. “Your roommate said you’ve been sick. I know auditions are coming up, but you can’t just ignore it. What if it gets worse?” Brielle pressed her lips together, gaze unwavering. Caden bent, picked up the bag, and practically forced it into her hands. “Just…please. Take care of yourself, okay?” His voice dropped low, almost tender. Standing in the shadows, Alora’s stomach twisted—not from the cramps this time, but from the cold clarity of what she was witnessing. So this was what different looked like. Brielle gets a minor cold, and Caden rushes to bring her medicine. When Alora had been curled over in pain from the emergency pill’s side effects, he didn’t care, didn’t even ask her why she was looking sick. All he’d wanted was to feel how “hot” her body would be with a fever—or now, how she looked in the same skirt from that night. One crude comment about Brielle? He’d flipped a table. But when it came to Alora, disgusting locker room jokes were fair game. Love versus being used. The difference hit like a fist to the chest. Her vision blurred with tears as her phone buzzed in her pocket. Mechanically, she answered. Her mother’s voice came through, bright and excited. “Sweetheart! I booked our flights. We’ll leave together next week.” Alora swallowed hard. “Oh—and didn’t you say you were dating someone? You mentioned wanting to introduce him to me. What about your boyfriend now that you’re going abroad?” Across the lot, she saw Brielle pull out, her taillights glowing as the car disappeared down the road. Caden stood frozen, watching the car until it vanished from sight. Alora turned away, her voice a faint whisper. ‘It doesn’t matter. We’re done. Caden. I won’t love you anymore. Not even a little.’ ******* The next day. Alora made an appointment at the campus clinic. She needed to get a physical examination done—international health paperwork, clearance to study abroad. After everything, she wasn’t about to take chances with her health. By the time she walked out with her test results in hand, exhaustion weighed heavy on her shoulders. Turning a corner in the waiting room, she nearly collided with two familiar figures. “Alora?” Caden’s voice, sharp with surprise. She looked up. There he was—broad shoulders tense, icy blue eyes narrowing—standing beside Brielle. Before she could respond, Brielle cut in, voice cool and even. “Caden, I told you. You didn’t need to come. I can check in myself.” Without another glance, she strode toward the reception desk, heels clicking across the floor. For a moment, it was just Alora and Caden left standing there. His gaze flicked down—sharp eyes catching the stack of papers in her hand. His brow furrowed. “Why are you here? You’re not…” His expression darkened instantly. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” Alora blinked, her pulse jumping. She glanced toward the clinic signs. Of course. The OB-GYN department was right next to the general check-in area. He’d jumped to conclusions. She opened her mouth to deny it—then paused. A thought slid into place. She met his gaze squarely, her voice flat. “What if I am?”