Chapter 169 - 0169: This Is The Last Time

Chapter 169: Chapter 0169: This Is The Last Time

Elena’s Point Of View

I turned away, my spine straight, my heart pounding against my ribs like it wanted to break free and flee the house entirely. The stairs creaked beneath my feet as I ascended, each step heavier than the last, like the weight of years, of lies, of broken promises, of love turned to dust, was pressing down on me, threatening to crush me flat against the worn carpet.

My fingers trembled as I pulled the key from my purse, the metal cold against my skin, the click of the lock echoing through the empty hallway like a final judgment being passed down on a life I no longer recognized as my own.

The door to the guest room swung open, the hinges groaning softly, as if mourning the end of something that had died long ago, something I hadn’t even realized I’d been clinging to until this very moment.

I stepped inside and locked the door behind me, my back pressing against the wood as I slid down, my knees pulling up to my chest, my hands clutching at my face as the tears came, hot, uncontrollable, raw, spilling through my fingers faster than I could wipe them away.

My whole body shook with the force of sobs I had been swallowing for hours, maybe for years, sobs that tasted like grief and humiliation all tangled together.

"This is the last time," I whispered to the empty room, my voice breaking, my chest heaving with the force of it. "The last time I’ll ever cry because of you, Graham."

How did we get here? Almost six years of marriage. Ten whole years of my life given to one man, vanished into air. A decade. I had envisioned my entire existence with Graham, every gray hair, every quiet morning, every wrinkled touch of our hands in old age. I had given him every single fragment of my heart, holding nothing back. I loved him with everything I had.

So why couldn’t he just love me the same way? Why was my all never enough for him?

A heavy, suffocating knot tightened in my throat. Deep down, I knew the bitter truth that had been poisoning us for years. Everyone craves a child, a legacy, a piece of themselves to leave behind. And Lilian, Lilian being pregnant, proved what I had spent endless tearful nights denying to myself. I was the one with the issue. I was broken. I was the problem.

I couldn’t give him the family he wanted, and in the end, my empty womb had cost me his heart. I pressed my palm against my stomach, feeling the familiar hollow ache that had haunted me for years, a phantom emptiness where a child should have been.

My eyes blurred as I stared blindly across the sunlit floor, my mind helplessly dragging me back to where it all began, back to a version of myself who still believed love could fix anything.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, right in the middle of autumn during my second year of high school. The golden hour light streamed through the high windows of the cafeteria, cutting through the hum of chatter and clinking trays. Lexy had dragged me toward the vending machines near the courtyard doors, blabbering about some upcoming algebra test, but I wasn’t listening.

My arms were full, a stack of heavy AP history textbooks pressed against my chest, a half-finished notebook slipping dangerously from my elbow, and a paper cup of warm peach tea balanced precariously on top.

"I’m telling you, Elena, Mr. Harrison is out to get us," Lexy said, waving her hands around with the dramatic flair she brought to everything. "He literally looked me in the eye and said the pop quiz was ’character building.’ Who does that?"

"Lex, watch out..." I tried to say, but my elbow bumped the edge of the hallway doorframe.

The heavy notebook slipped. I lunged to catch it, lost my center of gravity, and the cup of peach tea wobbled precariously.

I braced for the crash. Instead, a hand caught the paper cup right before it tipped, steadying it with effortless grace, while a pair of long, lean fingers hooked under my slipping notebook, pushing it back against my chest.

"Whoa there," a smooth, low voice said. "Careful. That tea looks way too warm to be wearing."

I froze. Slowly, I lifted my head, my eyes traveling up a dark blue varsity jacket, past a strong collarbone, up to a sharp, perfectly sculpted jawline. Dark hair, slightly ruffled by the autumn breeze blowing through the cracked courtyard door, fell over a high forehead. But it was his eyes, deep, warm, almost amber in the sunlight, that made my breath catch entirely in my throat.

Graham Sinclair. Senior class president, varsity captain, and the undisputed school god that every single girl in our year talked about in hushed, dramatic whispers.

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. My brain felt like it had completely short-circuited, every coherent thought scattering like startled birds.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice laced with a subtle, playful rumble. He was still holding the bottom of my tea cup, his thumb brushing lightly against the cardboard, dangerously close to my fingers.

"I... I... yeah," I squeaked out, the pitch of my own voice making me want to die on the spot. "I’m... sorry. I didn’t mean to almost drop my... tea on you."

"Good thing I have fast reflexes then," he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and a soft, breathtaking smile broke across his face, not the polite, cool grin he gave the teachers or the confident smirk he wore on the field, but something quiet. Something meant just for me. "I’m Graham, by the way."

Beside me, Lexy let out a tiny, high-pitched gasp that sounded like a deflating balloon. She violently nudged my side with her elbow, her eyes practically popping out of her head as she frantically mouthed, ’Say something! Say your name!’

Heat flooded my face, starting at the base of my neck and rushing all the way up to the tips of my ears. I felt like I was burning alive under his gaze, exposed in a way I had never experienced before.

"I know who you are," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Graham lifted an eyebrow, the smile on his lips deepening into something immensely amused. "Oh, really?"

"I mean... no! I mean... everyone knows," I stammered, feeling my face go five shades darker. If the floor had opened up right then to swallow me whole, I would have gratefully thrown myself inside. "I’m Elena. Elena Vance."

"Elena," he repeated slowly, testing the sound of it on his tongue. The way he said it, soft, lingering, made my heart do a violent, erratic somersault against my ribs. "That’s a pretty name. It suits you."

Lexy bumped her shoulder against mine again, harder this time, her face twisted in a silent, ecstatic scream. She squeezed her eyes shut and mouthed, ’Take his number! Ask for his number right now!’

I subtly tried to step on her foot to make her stop, my cheeks burning so violently I was sure Graham could actually feel the heat radiating off me. I wanted to shrink into a tiny particle and disappear into the hallway floorboards forever.

"Thank you," I whispered, staring down at my sneakers, unable to hold his gaze for more than two seconds without feeling like I was going to faint.

"You’re a sophomore, right?" Graham asked, taking the peach tea completely out of my hands for a second just to let me reorganize the heavy stack of textbooks that was slipping again. He handed it back once I had a firm grip, his fingers brushing against mine. The light touch sent a jolt straight up my arm, one that lingered long after he pulled away. "I haven’t seen you around the senior wing much."

"Yeah," I mumbled, desperately trying to keep my voice steady. "Sophomore. We... we mostly stay near the science hall."

"Ah, the dark ages," Graham joked lightly, his amber eyes locked onto mine. He stepped a fraction of an inch closer, leaning in just enough that I could catch the faint scent of cedarwood, fresh rain, and laundry detergent clinging to his jacket. "Well, Elena, you know, you shouldn’t go around carrying half the library by yourself. You’re gonna break those small arms."

"I can handle it," I managed to say, a small spark of my usual quiet defiance surfacing despite my absolute terror.

Graham laughed, a rich, genuine sound that echoed softly against the metal lockers behind us. "I bet you can." He reached out, his long fingers gently wrapping around my right wrist, his thumb resting against the inside of my pulse point. I knew he could feel how fast my heart was hammering. He tilted his head down, looking straight into my wide, panicked eyes. "You really are beautiful, Elena."

My breathing stopped completely. My brain went entirely blank. Beautiful? Me? No one had ever looked at me the way he was looking at me now, like I was something worth noticing in a hallway full of noise and motion.

Lexy gasped loudly this time, an actual, audible squeak that echoed in the corridor. She clapped both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers, her shoulders shaking with silent, frantic cheerleading. She dropped behind my back and kept wildly mouthing, ’Oh my God! He said you’re beautiful! Get his number! Ask him!’

I stood there, completely paralyzed, blushing so furiously that I felt like my skin was on fire. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even process the fact that Graham Sinclair was standing in front of me, holding my hand, saying things that sounded like they belonged in a movie I would have watched a hundred times just to feel this exact flutter in my chest.

"I... I..." I tried, my tongue completely tied in knots.

Graham smiled softly at my speechlessness, his thumb giving my hand a small, gentle squeeze before he slowly let go. The absence of his touch felt suddenly, strangely cold, like something had been taken from me before I’d even realized I wanted to keep it.

"I’ve gotta head back to the field before Coach loses his mind," Graham said, backing away slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He pointed toward my tea with a light wink. "Drink your tea before it gets cold, El."

El. No one had ever called me that except Lexy. Coming from him, it sounded like a secret, something whispered just for me to carry around for the rest of the day.

"See you around, El," he added softly, giving me one last lingering look before turning on his heel and walking down the sunlit hallway, his gym bag slung casually over one broad shoulder.

I didn’t move an inch. I couldn’t. All I could do was stand there, rooted to the spot, holding my heavy textbooks and my warm peach tea, watching his tall frame disappear around the corner of the corridor. My chest was heaving, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, his soft smile burned into the back of my eyelids like an afterimage I never wanted to fade.

The second his blue jacket vanished from sight, Lexy exploded.

She rushed out from behind me, grabbing both of my shoulders and violently shaking me, squealing at a pitch that almost pierced my eardrums.

"Oh my goodness!" Lexy shrieked, bouncing up and down on her heels, her knuckles pressed against her cheeks. "Oh my God, Elena! I cannot believe the actual school god just talked to you! Did that just happen?! Am I dreaming?!"

"Lexy, shh, people are looking..." I gasped, but my own voice felt distant, detached, as though it belonged to someone else entirely.

"I don’t care who’s looking!" Lexy squeaked, slapping her hand over her mouth before grabbing my forearm again. "He held your hand! He touched your hand, El! And did you hear what he said?! He literally said ’you are beautiful!’ Out loud! With his actual mouth! He must definitely, one hundred percent like you!"

All I could do was stare down the empty hallway where he had been standing just moments ago, my chest aching with a strange, sweet ache I had never felt in my entire fifteen years of life, an ache that felt equal parts terrifying and wonderful.

"Lex..." I whispered, my fingers tightening around the paper cup, feeling the residual warmth where his hand had been. "He called me El."

"He came up with a nickname in thirty seconds!" Lexy practically vibrated with excitement, violently shaking my shoulder again. "You are so in, Elena. You hear me? You are so in! What are you standing there for? Why didn’t you ask for his number?!"

"I couldn’t breathe, Lexy," I breathed out softly, a hesitant, overwhelmed smile slowly pulling at the corners of my lips as I looked back at her. "I literally forgot how to speak."

"Well, you better learn how to talk fast," Lexy grinned wickedly, slinging an arm around my neck and pulling me toward our next class. "Because Graham Sinclair is definitely coming back for round two."

I had believed her completely that day, certain that whatever had just happened in that hallway was the beginning of something beautiful and permanent. I had no way of knowing then how far that beginning would eventually carry me, or how much it would one day cost me to love a boy who grew into a man I could never quite hold onto.