Chapter 129 

Chapter 129 

“So you didn’t push the door handle?” Julian asked, his voice calm, but curious. 

I shook my head slowly. “No,” I admitted, my voice low. “I just… chickened out.” 

A tight, humorless smile flickered on my lips, quickly fading as I averted my gaze to the bookshelf behind him. The colorful spines blurred together, safer to look at than his face. I couldn’t handle seeing disappointment reflected there–not when I was already swimming in it myself. 

“Strange, right?” I murmured. “I had enough courage to insult her in front of the whole class, but when it came to apologizing one–on–one, I froze.” 

Julian didn’t respond right away. For a moment, I let the silence settle, a punishment I felt I deserved. 

But then he said, “Nope. I don’t see anything strange about that.” 

I blinked, startled by the gentleness in his voice. 

“It’s the most normal thing in the world.” 

And just like that, something inside me uncoiled. A tight, guilt–wrapped knot loosened quietly–almost unnoticed, but no less real. 

I looked back to him, slowly, almost cautiously. His eyes met mine, and there was no judgment in them. Just steady understanding. His presence was a soft landing–safe, comfortable, breathable. 

“Apologizing,” he continued, “takes way more courage than insulting someone. Because the words you use when you’re mad or trying to hurt someone don’t have to be true. They don’t have to mean anything. But an apology? That has to come from your heart. And that makes it terrifying.” 

I let the words settle into the cracks of my guilt. 

“But I do want to apologize to her,” I whispered. “From my heart.” 

Julian nodded. “Yeah. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard.” 

My brows knit together. “What?” 

He smiled slightly, not condescending–just patient. 

“Look,” he said, leaning a little forward, “the fact that you want to apologize sincerely means it’s real. And when an apology is real, the first step isn’t saying sorry to someone else–it’s forgiving yourself. And right now… you haven’t. You’re still angry at yourself. You’re still carrying that guilt. So deep down, you don’t think you deserve her forgiveness. That’s why your hand couldn’t move. That’s why the handle felt so heavy.” 

Something clicked. 

A quiet “oh” escaped me. “Now that actually makes sense.” I paused, and for the first time today, a soft, genuine smile lifted my lips. “Wow. You’re a genius. You dissected my entire emotional turmoil like it was a science project. Thanks, Julian.” 

“I’ll take your thanks,” he said, leaning back with a smug little smirk, “but only if you agree to do the homework I’m giving you today.” 

My face dropped in exaggerated betrayal. “Then here-” I reached out, plucked an invisible word from the air, and closed my fist around it. “I take it back. I take 

y thanks back. No need to accept it” 

my 

“Lucy,” Julian warned, his tone shifting into the classic I’m–your–mom–and–l–know–what’s–best voice. 

“I hate your homework, Julian,” I groaned, slumping in my seat. 

“But it’s good for you,” he replied, like he’d been waiting to say that all day. 

“Fine,” I sighed, dramatically rolling my eyes. “What is it?” 

1/3 

09:52 Sun, 15 Jun 

Chapter 129 

Apologizing the moment I see Clara. Without even waiting a second. 

That was my homework. 

Apparently, according to Julian–the therapist slash part–time wizard in a sweater vest–the more we think, the more we panic, spiral, procrastinate. And the only way to fight back? Don’t give the thoughts a single second to exist. Just do it. Grab the moment before the excuses do. 

So, I waited the entire day–ready. 

But the seat in front of me stayed empty. 

Clara didn’t come to school. 

I didn’t think much of it at first. I told myself maybe she had a headache or her cat needed emergency therapy or something normal and boring didn’t let myself go there. Not yet. 

But then… Wednesday. Still empty. 

Thursday. Nothing. No bag, no whispery humming, no Clara. 

And by Friday, I couldn’t help but worry. 

Was she avoiding me? 

No–was she hurting because of me? 

The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t breathe. 

Where is she? 

Why hasn’t she come back? 

Is she okay? 

Did I hurt her that badly? 

Sure, I knew I’d made her feel like crap. But if it were me, if something like that bothered me so deeply, I would’ve lashed out. Switched classes. Thrown a 

book at someone’s head. Something. 

But this? Vanishing? 

It felt worse than anger. It felt like giving up. 

And guilt–God, it dragged its nails down my spine. 

I should’ve pushed that stupid door open. I should’ve apologized right then, in that restroom, while her eyes were still wet and her heart was still 

reachable. 

Instead, I froze. 

And she disappeared. 

The weekend passed, drenched in that foggy regret. It was a full VIP trip to Guilt–land, with Remorse as my plus–one and Overthinking as the unwanted 

third wheel. 

But I won’t lie and say it was all bad. Because Kaiden didn’t let it be. 

2/3 

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Chapter 129 

Somehow, he noticed. My slouched soul. My silent thoughts. 

And every night, after the mansion sank into sleep, he’d pull me into our little hideout–the balcony of his room. 

It wasn’t as grand as the rooftop or as dramatic as the terrace. But it was ours. A place untouched by my mom’s new obsession of picture picture family 

charade. 

God, my mom. 

Once, she literally stood guard outside my bedroom door till midnight like she was securing Buckingham Palace. That woman was ten steps ahead in everything–especially conflict control. And yet, despite all her efforts to keep us apart, Kaiden and I found our pocket of freedom beneath the stars. We laughed. We kissed. We ate cold fries. It was a beautiful moment. However, turns out, even under a sky full of stars, guilt doesn’t go away. It just hides in the shadows and won’t let you enjoy those beautiful moments to the fullest. 

A sharp noise of a chair scraping against the floor yanked me out of my partially remorseful, romantic–adventure weekend and dragged me back into the classroom–the fluorescent lights, the restless buzz of teenage chaos. 

My eyes snapped up from my doodled notebook. 

And there she was. 

Clara. 

Standing in front of me like it was any other day. 

My breath hitched. My heart leaped. 

She came. She finally came. 

Oh my God. 

I didn’t know whether to cry or jump out of my chair and hug her or scream a nervous yay into the void of my brain. 

I was happy. So stupidly, irrationally happy. 

Finally!!! 

To be continued… 

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