The morning was too beautiful.
That was the first thing Ava thought when she woke up. The sunlight was a soft, pale gold, spilling across the cabin floor, and the air smelled of pine and the lingering warmth of the night before. Her body felt different—heavier, but in a way that felt like grounding. She felt like a person who was finally, truly loved.
When she walked into the lodge, Nicholas was sitting alone at a small table. He wasn't on his phone. He wasn't talking. He was just watching the door. When his eyes met hers, he didn't give her a cocky grin. He just exhaled, a long, shaky breath, and stood up to pull her into his side.
"Hey," he whispered into her hair, his arms locking around her like she was the only thing keeping him upright. "You okay?"
"I'm perfect," Ava said, and she meant it. She buried her face in his neck, breathing him in—the scent of soap and cool lake air. "I didn't think it was possible to feel this... safe."
Nicholas didn't respond. He just squeezed her tighter, his fingers digging into her waist, almost as if he were trying to hold on to a ghost.
The Seminar
The grand hall was filled with the low hum of a hundred students. It was supposed to be a session on "Trust and Vulnerability," a bitter irony that would haunt Ava for years.
They sat at the back, tucked away in the shadows. Ava sat between Nicholas's knees, her back pressed against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat—steady, rhythmic, a sound she had fallen asleep to just hours ago. He was playing with her fingers, tracing the lines of her palm with his thumb.
It felt like a sanctuary.
Then Chloe stood up.
She wasn't even supposed to be in their group. She stood in the center of the hall, her arms crossed, a sharp, jagged smile on her face that made Ava's stomach turn.
"I have a question about trust," Chloe said, her voice echoing off the high rafters. "How do you know when someone is actually vulnerable? Or when they're just... playing a part for an audience?"
The hall went silent. Nicholas's hand stopped moving on Ava's palm. His fingers went cold.
"Chloe, don't," Nicholas said. His voice wasn't loud, but it was thick with a desperate, jagged edge.
"Don't what, Nick? Don't tell the class about the 'Unbreakable Wallflower' project?" Chloe laughed, and it sounded like glass breaking. She looked directly at Ava. "Did you think you were special, Ava? Did you think the golden boy of this campus just happened to notice you in the rain?"
Ava's breath hitched. She tried to move, but her body felt paralyzed. "Nicholas?" she whispered.
"It was a dare, honey," Chloe continued, stepping closer. "The guys wanted to see if Nicholas could actually break you. They wanted to see if he could make the girl who hates everyone fall in love with him before the retreat ended. And look at you..."
Chloe gestured to the way Ava was tucked between his legs.
"He didn't just break you. He demolished you."
Ava felt the world tilt. She turned around, her eyes searching Nicholas's face, begging him to laugh, begging him to tell her it was a sick joke.
But Nicholas wouldn't look at her. His jaw was locked so tight the muscles were jumping. His eyes were fixed on the floor, dark and hollow.
"Nicholas," she breathed, her voice cracking. "Tell me it's not true."
"Ava..." he started, his voice a broken, raspy shadow of itself. "It... it didn't stay that way. I swear to you—"
"So it started that way?"
The words felt like ash in her mouth.
At that moment, the notifications began. A chorus of pings echoed through the hall as Chloe's "evidence" hit the group chats. Ava felt Maya, sitting nearby, gasp. She saw her friend's face collapse into pity.
Ava reached out and grabbed Nicholas's phone from the floor. He didn't stop her. He looked like he was waiting for the executioner's blow.
She saw the messages.
"Wolfe: Watch me crack her."
"Jackson: She's too smart for you, man."
"Wolfe: No one is too smart for a guy who knows exactly what they want to hear."
Ava dropped the phone. It clattered against the wood, the screen cracking.
The Shattering
She stood up, her movements slow and jerky, like a doll with broken strings.
Nicholas stood with her, his hands reaching out, but he didn't dare touch her. "Ava, please. Last night... that wasn't the dare. That was me. That was real."
"Was it?" Ava's voice was a whisper, but it carried across the silent room. Tears were hot and thick in her eyes, blurring his face. "When you kissed my forehead last night and thanked me for choosing you... were you thanking me? Or were you thanking the universe for letting you win?"
"No," he groaned, the sound coming from deep in his chest. "No, Ava, I love you."
"Don't," she sobbed, the first tear finally falling. "Don't use that word. You don't get to use that word after you turned my heart into a game. You didn't love me. You loved the challenge of me."
She looked at him—the man who had held her while she slept, the man she had given everything to. He looked like a stranger.
"I finally let someone in," she whispered, her voice breaking into a thousand pieces. "And you were just... a ghost. You weren't even there."
Ava didn't wait for another word. She couldn't breathe in that room anymore. She turned and ran, her vision a smear of colors and faces. She ran out of the hall, out into the beautiful, mocking sunlight, and kept running until her lungs screamed.
Everything she had built—every ounce of trust, every bit of safety—had been a lie.
She wasn't seen. She was just hunted.