It had been two days since that night in Tessa's room, the night Andrea climbed through her window and begged her on his knees. Since then, everything had shifted again.
Liam was acting cold.
He had barely said more than two words to her during their morning shifts. He avoided eye contact, kept himself busy, and was no longer offering to help her carry plates or share jokes in between orders like he used to. His silence screamed louder than words. And even though Tessa had expected some tension, the sting of it still caught her off guard.
"I shouldn't have given him false hope" she asked herself quietly as she wiped down a table.
Priya noticed the change too.
"He's avoiding you," she said, watching Liam walk past without even glancing at them.
"I know," Tessa sighed. "He caught me kissing Andrea on our date…"
Priya raised her brows. "Girl, this triangle is turning into a whole pentagon. You better start drawing boundaries before people start swinging fists again."
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Andrea wasn't doing any better.
He sat in his car, parked just outside Becca's apartment complex, seething.
She had called him nonstop since he left Tessa's house.
Now, as he stared at his phone, fists clenched and heart pounding, he knew he had to get answers.
He stormed into her apartment, uninvited.
Becca, wearing an oversized shirt and no shame, opened the door with a smirk. "Oh, look who finally showed up."
"Why didn't you use contraceptives?" Andrea growled, voice sharp and low. "Why would you even risk it?"
Becca rolled her eyes. "You didn't ask. I thought you didn't care. I mean, you were the one who couldn't keep your hands off me, remember?"
Andrea's voice cracked with fury. "That doesn't mean you trap someone! You knew I was vulnerable that night. You used it."
"Oh, please." Becca crossed her arms. "You're not the victim here, Andrea. You came to me."
"You could have told me!" he shouted. "You should have said something. You should've—"
"What?" she interrupted. "Ruined the moment? You didn't seem too concerned about anything except getting off."
Andrea flinched.
"I'm not pregnant, if that's what you're worried about," she said, finally. "But I wanted to scare you. Because you deserve it."
Andrea stared at her like she was a stranger.
Becca walked closer, taunting. "Let me guess—you were with that bitch again? Playing prince charming after playing me like a toy?"
"Don't you dare call her a bitch again," Andrea warned, a dangerous look in his eyes.
Becca smirked. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
Andrea's silence said it all. And Becca laughed bitterly, brushing past him. "Good luck with that. Girls like her don't forgive guys like you."
Back at the restaurant, Tessa tried to talk to Liam during break.
"Liam," she called gently.
He didn't stop walking. She had to catch up to him by the locker room.
"Can we talk?"
Liam sighed. "There's nothing to talk about."
"Why are you avoiding me?" she asked, a little breathless.
"You know why, you lied to me that he wasn't your boyfriend. The next thing I see you are kissing him" he said without looking at her.
Tessa stepped in front of him. "The thing is what I and Andrea share is very complicated."
"You expect me to believe that?" Liam replied sharply, then lowered his voice. "I saw the way you looked at him Tessa. You love him"
Tessa swallowed. "It's complicated."
Liam nodded. "Yeah. Just let me be, Tessa."
She watched him walk away, her heart sinking.
Later that night, she entered the group chat with Tracy, Jane, and Priya.
TESSA:
I think I'm officially the messiest person alive 🥲
TRACY:
Girl what now 😭
PRIYA:
Did Liam finally talk to you?
TESSA:
Yeah he said I should let him be.
JANE:
As he should 😒 Sorry babe, but that boy likes you. You keep letting Andrea back in.
TESSA:
I didn't plan for any of this 😞
TRACY:
We need to kidnap you and lock you in a room far away from both of them until you figure your life out 😂
PRIYA:
You need a distraction. Like a party
TESSA:
A party?? LMAO what kind of messed up solution is that?
JANE:
It's your birthday in a week, right?
TESSA:
Yeah… but my parents don't even let me go out. They think I'm always working.
TRACY:
Leave that to us. Just trust us. Pinky promise?
Tessa stared at their messages, smiling faintly. Maybe a little light wouldn't hurt.
Meanwhile, Andrea sat in his car again, alone, replaying Tessa's words from that night:
"I never want to speak to you again."
He banged his fist against the steering wheel and let the silence swallow him.
He kept replaying Teresa's voice in his head "Let's just be friends" like a curse. That sentence alone had the power to rip open every defense he'd built.
And then there was Becca, constantly texting and calling like a mosquito he couldn't swat.
He had blocked her number once… then unblocked it.
Then muted her chats.
Then found himself checking the notifications anyway, just in case.
"We need to talk."
"Please pick up."
"I'm scared."
He rolled his eyes every time.
She's lying. She's always lying.
She had claimed she was pregnant, then later then later lied to him that it was a "false alarm."
He didn't even reply. He had stopped caring.
But three days later, the truth struck him like a match on gasoline.
Becca:
"You ignored me when I needed you most. I really was pregnant, Andrea. But don't worry—I had an abortion. It's done."
His vision blurred as he read it again and again. The words wouldn't stop blinking in his brain.
He felt like throwing up.
She had lied to manipulate him. Then told the truth to punish him.
His chest caved inward, breath ragged. He dropped the phone, gripped the steering wheel, and let out a guttural sound—half rage, half grief.
He wasn't sure what hurt more—the lie, the truth, or the idea that someone could've been his child.
He stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, his hand over his heart, breathing sharp and uneven.
Was he spiraling?
Yes.
He didn't want Becca. Never did.
But this? This was something else.
His hands trembled. His mind raced with thoughts of what-ifs and never-agains. Tears slipped down his cheek before he even realized.
And through it all, Tessa's voice echoed louder.
"You're just bored… looking for a naive girl to play with."
He wished she could see him now.
This wasn't a game.
He was drowning.
And he didn't know how to breathe without her.
———
Andrea couldn't take it anymore.
The apartment walls were too loud.
His heartbeat too heavy.
The silence in his chest, unbearable.
He needed noise.
He needed numbness.
He needed to forget.
Grabbing his leather jacket, he slammed the door behind him, storming into the night with no direction, just reckless need.
The city was electric.
New York's chaos always matched his chaos.
He found a bar in Brooklyn. somewhere dimly lit with a lot of smoke and loud music that drowned out thoughts. He ordered a double shot of tequila, then another. Then something on the rocks. He stopped tasting the burn.
Girls were everywhere, draped across men, drinking, laughing, grinding to the beat.
He could feel the attention. The sharp cheekbones, the bad-boy aura, the storm in his eyes, it pulled them in.
A brunette slid into the seat next to him, biting her lip.
"You look like you need a distraction," she whispered.
He stared at her like she was underwater.
"Do I look like I want to talk?"
"Not really." She smiled, unfazed. "But you do look like you need to forget someone."
His jaw clenched.
She was right.
He didn't ask her name. Didn't offer his. Just stood, drink in hand, and walked to the back hallway. She followed.
And then—
Nothing.
He paused.
His back hit the wall and suddenly everything felt wrong.
His chest tightened.
His lungs refused to expand.
He couldn't move.
Images of Teresa's smile flashed behind his eyelids.
The way her nose scrunched when she laughed.
The way she used to look at him like he was worth something.
He shoved away from the wall, muttering a curse.
"Hey! What's your deal?" the girl barked.
Andrea didn't answer. He staggered out the exit, breath shaky, and stumbled into the cold air. His phone buzzed. Another text from Becca.
He threw the phone across the alley and went to pick it up. It clattered, cracked. He didn't care.
He didn't want Becca. He didn't want random girls.
He wanted her.
Teresa.
The girl who hated him now.
The girl he had broken.
The girl who saw right through him and still...God he wanted her more than air.
His knees hit the ground as he sank to the pavement, head in his hands.
What the hell am I doing?
Everything was slipping through his fingers, and all he wanted to do was rewind to that moment in her bedroom **her laugh, her light, her forgiveness just barely within reach** before it all shattered again.
———
It was 2:07 a.m.
Teresa lay on her bed, back turned to the window, her phone dimmed on the side table. The messages from her friends still glowed on the screen.
Priya: "You okay?"
Tracy: "Tell us if you wanna talk."
Jane: "We love you, Tess. Don't let him break you."
She didn't reply.
The silence in her room was heavy. Her fairy lights were off, but the moonlight leaked in. She stared blankly at the wall, her blanket tucked under her chin.
Then—
a sound.
A soft tap on her window.
Her spine straightened.
No.
Not again.
She sat up slowly, heart thudding in her chest.
Creak.
The window was sliding open.
Her breath caught.
A leg swung through. Then a shoulder. Then Andrea, messy and wild-eyed, dropped into her room like a ghost from her nightmares. His hair was tousled, his hoodie damp from sweat and night air. His eyes, glassy, red, frantic.
"Andrea?" she whispered, alarmed.
He stood there, panting, hands trembling as he stared at her like he didn't expect her to be real.
"You're here," he said hoarsely. "Thank God, you're here."
She shot up, clutching her blanket to her chest.
"What the hell are you doing?! Are you drunk? Are you—?"
"I needed to see you." His voice cracked. "Tessa, I—I'm not okay."
He staggered forward, almost tripping over her laundry basket. She caught his arm instinctively, and that small touch made him shatter.
"I'm losing my mind," he choked. "I can't sleep. I can't think. I almost—"
He pulled something out of his jacket pocket.
A bottle. Pills.
Her eyes widened.
"Andrea, what is that?"
"I didn't take any," he said quickly. "I swear. I just...I didn't know what else to do. I came here because—"
He collapsed to his knees right in front of her, pressing the bottle into her hands like it burned him.
"Take them. Please. Before I do something stupid."
Tears streamed down his face now. Real, ugly, gut-wrenching sobs.
He clutched her waist and pressed his forehead to her stomach.
"I don't think I can let you go."
"Andrea…" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Tessa, please." His voice broke, kneeling in her room like a child lost in the dark. "I'm so sorry. For Becca. For everything. I didn't want her. It was a mistake. A stupid, weak moment. But you…you were never a mistake."
She froze.
The bottle of pills still cold in her hand.
His grip on her body…desperate. Shaking.
"I'm hurting so bad," he whispered. "I feel like I'm drowning and no one can see me."
She stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat as his tears soaked through her shirt.
Then—
She bent down slowly, pried his arms off her, and knelt in front of him, leveling her gaze to his tear-filled one.
"You'll be fine," she said softly. "You can't show up like this, it's late."
He blinked rapidly.
"I'm not—I'm sorry—I didn't mean to—"
His head dropped, ashamed.
She touched his cheek gently.
"I care about you. God help me, I still do. But you need help. Real help. Not a girl you cheated on."
He shaked his head.
"I didn't cheat. We weren't together—"
"But you knew what you meant to me," she cut in sharply. "And that was enough."
Silence.
Only their breathing filled the room.
Andrea looked up, pain etched in every inch of his face.
"Then don't hate me. Please. If I don't have you—I have nothing."
She leaned in slowly, pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
"I don't hate you," she whispered. "Go home Andrea."
He closed his eyes, trembling.
"How?"
She stood up, still staring down at him.
"Just go home Andrea."
Andrea remained still for a moment. Then, broken and reluctant, he rose to his feet. Slowly. Every movement felt like it hurt.
As he reached the window, she called out softly—
"I'll keep the pills for you."
He turned back, eyes meeting hers.
"You're not alone, Andrea. But I can't be your crutch. Not anymore."
He nodded, eyes glistening.
As Andrea climbed halfway out the window, his legs already swinging outside, Tessa's voice stopped him.
"Wait."
He froze.
The night wind blew softly through the crack in the window, brushing against his hoodie. His shoulders stiffened, fingers gripping the frame.
"Don't go home like this, you're drunk" she said gently.
He turned around, eyes clouded with confusion.
"Tessa—"
"You're not okay. And I can't—" she took a breath, "I can't send you back out like this, knowing you'll spiral again. What if you actually take those pills?"
Andrea's eyes darted to the bottle still sitting on her dresser.
She took a few steps toward him, heart thudding painfully.
"I'm not taking you back," she said, voice firm, but her eyes soft. "But I won't let you destroy yourself either."
He looked like he might cry again.
"You mean that?"
"Yes."
She stepped forward and closed the window, locking it behind him. He stood awkwardly in the center of her room, looking unsure of what to do with his arms, his eyes flicking between her and the floor.
She walked to her door and gently turned the key in the lock.
Click.
Andrea looked up.
"You're locking me in?"
"I'm locking the world out," she replied.
His mouth parted slightly, the weight of those words hitting him in the chest.
She pulled her blanket back, slid into bed, then patted the space beside her.
"Come on. Lie down. You look like you haven't slept in weeks."
Andrea didn't move at first. Just stared at her, like he didn't believe what was happening. Then, wordlessly, he walked to the bed, peeled off his hoodie, and slipped under the covers beside her.
He lay stiffly at first, afraid to touch her.
Then she reached out, gently pulled him closer, and allowed him to hold her.
His arms wrapped around her like muscle memory. Like he'd been waiting for this. Like it was the only place he could breathe. He pressed his forehead to the crook of her neck and let out a shaky exhale, his whole body finally beginning to relax.
"You smell nice," he whispered brokenly.
"Shhh… just sleep, Andrea."
He clutched her tighter.
She rubbed slow, comforting circles on his back as his breathing began to even out. His heartbeat against her chest slowed. His grip loosened slightly as the exhaustion finally overtook him.
Minutes passed.
He fell asleep holding her like she was the only thing anchoring him to the world.
But she… she stayed wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
Her body curled into him, but her heart was at war. This wasn't her forgiving him. This was her protecting someone she once loved from self-destruction.
She reached for the bedside drawer, slid the pill bottle inside, and shut it.
He murmured something incoherent in his sleep, arms tightening again. She didn't pull away.
Not yet.
A tear slid down her cheek.
But she didn't regret letting him stay.
Not tonight.
The soft light of dawn slipped through the cracks in Teresa's curtains, casting a pale glow across her bedroom walls.
Andrea blinked awake slowly, his lashes fluttering. He was disoriented at first, lying in unfamiliar sheets, his arm wrapped protectively around something warm, someone warm.
Her.
Tessa.
Her head rested on his chest, one hand curled loosely against his hoodie. Her lips were parted slightly, her breath calm and even. Strands of her hair spilled across his neck like silk.
He didn't move.
He just watched her.
He watched the way her nose crinkled faintly every now and then, how her fingers twitched in her sleep. How peaceful she looked, how close she was.
He had memorized her before, but now it felt deeper. He wasn't just admiring her beauty… he was yearning. For her forgiveness. Her love. Her warmth.
For them.
She stirred, eyelashes fluttering open.
Their eyes met.
Neither spoke.
She didn't pull away. Instead, she blinked slowly, like waking into a dream.
His hand was still resting lightly on her waist, fingers curled into the cotton of her sleep shirt.
He swallowed.
"Why are you staring?" she whispered, lips brushing softly against his chest as she spoke.
"Couldn't help it," he murmured.
Her eyes held his. There was a heaviness in her gaze… and something else. Want. Memory. Desire.
The air between them grew charged.
He hesitated, didn't want to assume, didn't want to push.
But her hand moved first. Fingers reached up, brushing his jaw. Her eyes dropped briefly to his lips… then back up to his eyes.
"You always look at me like I'm yours," she whispered.
"Because you were," he whispered back. "And maybe still are."
And then she kissed him.
Soft. Slow. Searching.
But it deepened quickly.
Her fingers tangled in his curls, his hand gripping her waist, then her hip. He kissed her back with every broken, desperate thing he hadn't said. He kissed her like an apology and a promise all at once.
Her breath hitched as his lips brushed down her neck. He kissed the hollow of her throat, just beneath her ear, where he knew she was most sensitive. Her back arched toward him instinctively.
His hand slid up her shirt, fingers grazing the skin of her stomach. She shivered.
But before it could go further—
A knock slammed against the front door downstairs.
They both froze.
Then, her father's voice.
"Tessa?! Open this door right now!"
Panic shot through her.
Andrea sat up quickly, pulling the blanket over himself, heart hammering.
"Shit."
"My dad" she whispered, scrambling off the bed.
Another angry knock.
"Tessa! Are you in there?!"
"Yes dad, I'm trying to get dressed"
Andrea stood, already looking for his hoodie and trying to figure out if he could jump out the window without getting seen.
"You can't go out that way now. What if someone sees you?" she said, thinking fast.
"What do I do then?!"
"Get under the bed," she said, wide-eyed.
"You're joking."
"Do I look like I'm joking? Go!"
He dropped to the floor just as she unlocked her bedroom door and rushed into the hallway. From the window, Andrea could hear her father yelling downstairs, and her mother trying to calm him down.
The chaos built like a storm.
But under the bed, Andrea stayed still, his breath shallow, heart pounding like a drum, adrenaline crashing through him like a wave.
From above, he could still smell her scent on the sheets. Still feel the ghost of her lips.
Still feel everything.
And she… was pretending nothing had happened.
She opened the door half way
"Dad I'm half naked. Do you need anything?" She asked
"I thought I had voices in your room. Is anyone with you" he asked
"No, I was just talking to myself cuz I might be probably late for work today" she lied
"Alright, get to it"
She shut the door immediately.
The door clicked softly behind her father, and the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway. Teresa stood still for a second, letting the silence settle.
Then she turned, shut her room door quietly, and exhaled the breath she'd been holding.
Andrea was already halfway to the window.
Their eyes locked.
He looked a little better than the night before, still pale, still worn out, but there was a calmness in his face now. A softness she hadn't seen in a long time.
"I should go," he said, already reaching for the sill.
But before he could swing his leg out, Teresa crossed the room in quick steps and pulled him into a hug. A deep, quiet, intimate hug.
Andrea's arms wrapped around her instantly, tightly. Neither of them spoke. Her head rested against his chest, and for a moment, it felt like the chaos outside didn't exist.
He kissed her forehead gently, reverently and she leaned into it like she needed it more than she'd ever admit.
She pulled back just enough to whisper, "Don't do something stupid to yourself, okay?"
Andrea swallowed hard and nodded. "I won't."
He tilted his head, studying her face. Then, with a lopsided smile, he said, "Let me take you out after work."
She raised an eyebrow. "A date?"
"No," he grinned. "Just a friendly outing. Totally platonic. I swear on my dying heart."
She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "Fine. No problem."
He smirked. "I found out your birthday's next week."
Her eyes widened slightly, but he was already continuing, "I've got so many surprises for you, my friend," he teased.
She narrowed her eyes. "You're really milking this 'friend' thing, huh?"
Andrea shrugged, his grin playful. "It's safer that way."
She laughed softly. "Bye. See you at work."
He turned toward the window, one foot already out when she reached for his hand. He paused, looking down at their fingers entwined.
She pulled him back slightly, stood on her toes, and kissed him.
Not a rushed, confused kiss.
A soft one. Intentional. Brief. But full of something that neither of them could quite name yet.
He kissed her back instinctively and when she pulled away, she had that same small smile on her lips that used to drive him crazy.
"Do you want me to come back and pick you up for work?" he asked, voice husky.
She shook her head gently. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."
He hesitated. Then smiled slow, wide, that boyish smile that made her chest ache.
And just like that, he disappeared out the window.
She stared after him for a few seconds longer than she should have. Her room felt a little colder without him in it, a little emptier.
But also, a little lighter.