Page 4 of Mine to Fear
But it was too late. The word hung in the air between us, unspoken but undeniable.
Love.
I was falling in love with my brother’s best friend, and from the look on Kieran’s face, the feeling wasn’t entirely one-sided.
"You should go home," he said finally, taking a step back. The distance felt like miles.
Before I could respond, Kieran stepped to the curb and raised his hand. A cab appeared almost immediately, because of course it did—the universe bending to his will even now.
He opened the door for me.
I wanted to argue. I wanted to grab his face and kiss him again until he stopped being so goddamn noble. But the set ofhis jaw told me everything I needed to know. Whatever door had cracked open between us, he was already boarding it shut.
So I slid into the cab.
Kieran held the door, one hand braced on the frame. For a moment, he just looked at me, and I saw it all there. The want. The war. The decision he'd already made.
"Good night, Willa." His throat moved. "Congratulations."
The next morning, I woke up expecting everything to be different. Expecting him to call or show up at the apartment with coffee and an explanation, or at least acknowledge what happened between us.
Instead, he acted like nothing had changed. Like he hadn't kissed me until I forgot how to breathe, then put me in a cab like a gentleman and walked away like a coward.
I called him Tuesday. No answer.
Wednesday, I promised myself one more call. Just one. But one turned into two, then five, then too many to count. By eleven p.m., I was staring at my phone like I could will it to ring.
It didn't.
Thursday, I almost went to his apartment. I stood in my hallway with my keys in my hand for a full hour, rehearsing what I would say. That I couldn't stop thinking about him. That I needed to know I didn't imagine it. That I needed him to tell me he felt it too.
But I couldn't make my feet move. I couldn't stomach the possibility that he would open the door and look at me the way he had been looking at me all week—like I was just his best friend's little sister again.
By Friday, I was a wreck. I walked home from orientation for my new job, barely seeing the streets I'd known my whole life, and realized I was one bad moment away from crying on a public sidewalk. I forced myself to think about Monday instead. First day. Fresh start. A version of myself that wasn't pathetic over a man who clearly didn't want me.
It almost worked.
Then Jude mentioned, casual as anything, that Kieran was seeing someone. Sophia Blake. Art gallery curator. Legs for days, the kind of effortless polish that made me feel like a kid playing dress-up.
"That's great," I said. "Good for him."
I smiled when I met her at a dinner party. I smiled when she touched his arm like she had every right to, and he let her. I kept smiling until my face ached and my chest burned with something sharp and jagged that would not go down.
I missed him. Not in waves, but constantly. It was a low, steady ache I carried everywhere. Part of me still lived in that kiss, replaying it like proof of something real. But the rest of me knew better. I had to let go.
Maybe it was never meant to be.I told myself that often enough. But knowing something and believing it are two different things.
So I carried him quietly. Loved him from a distance. I tried to move forward even when it felt like leaving something essential behind.
The world moved on. At least for him.
Sophia was followed by Olga, a model with a master’s degree and a wardrobe that screamed old money. Then came Natalie, a paralegal with perfect highlights and the ability to discuss wine pairings without sounding pretentious.
All beautiful and accomplished.
The pattern became clear quickly: Kieran Cross dated sophisticated women who moved in professional circles, women who knew how to order at expensive restaurants and didn’t get nervous at cocktail parties. Women who were nothing like Jude’s little sister, the girl who still ate cereal for dinner sometimes and wore the same three interview outfits on rotation.
So I did what any reasonable person would do. I threw myself into finding someone who would actually choose me first.
