CHAPTER 159
**ZION**
The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. My heart hammers so loud I swear everyone in the damn parking lot can hear it. But it’s not from running. It’s her. It’s always been her.
Winter stands a few feet away, her expression unreadable, but I can see it in her eyes—the hesitation, the war raging inside her. She’s thinking. She’s considering. That has to mean something, right?
The wind sweeps through, catching the strands of her blonde hair and sending them dancing around her face. She tucks a piece behind her ear, and I swear, for a second, I forget how to breathe.
Her eyes—God, those eyes—are the brightest shade of blue I’ve ever seen, like the sky before a storm, like the ocean pulling you in just before you drown. They’re staring at me, searching, like she’s trying to decide if I’m worth it. If I can be trusted.
Please trust me.
My chest tightens, a painful, suffocating squeeze. God, if she doesn’t forgive me… how the hell am I supposed to survive this? I need her. More than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.
I want to say something, anything, but the words lodge in my throat. Because right now, I don’t just see her standing there.
I feel her.
Every inch of her, every memory, every moment we’ve shared—both the beautiful ones and the ones I wish I could take back.
She’s stunning, and the worst part is—she doesn’t even know it. She walks through the world unaware of the way she captivates, the way she makes everything else fade into the background.
And God, if she just gave me a chance—just one fucking chance—I’d do anything to make sure I never see a tear in her eyes again. I’d spend forever proving that she means more to me than I ever dared to admit.
And right now, I’d give anything to know what’s going through her head. Anything to make her stay.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay still, to not reach for her, to not do something that’ll push her further away.
“Snowflake,” I murmur, my voice barely above a breath.
Her eyes flicker, her fingers twitch at her sides, and for a split second, I let myself hope.
She shakes her head.
"Not now," she says, her voice soft, almost apologetic. Like the words are a wound she’s forcing open.
"Please."
I take a step closer, my heart hammering.
"Just a few minutes, Snowflake. That’s all I’m asking. Please."
She flinches.
Just barely, but I see it.
Like the thought of standing here with me even a second longer is too much. Like I still make her feel unsafe.
And that realization? It guts me.
"I can’t," she whispers, shaking her head.
"Not now."
It slams into me like a gut punch.
She turns away, walking off with Claire and Ariel, and I just… stand there. Watching her go.
I should let her. I should respect what she’s asking for and give her space. But every step she takes away from me feels like a door slamming shut, locking me out for good.
What the hell do I do?
I ran after her because I couldn’t let her leave without trying. Because I thought if I could just get her to listen—if she could just see how much I regret everything—I’d have a chance.
But she did listen. She heard every word. And she still walked away.
I drag a hand down my face, swallowing the frustration, the panic rising in my chest.
What do I do now? How do I fix this?
Because I can’t lose her. Not like this.
Not when I’ve finally realized just how much she means to me.
I stand there, frozen, watching as they pile into Claire’s car, Ariel glancing over her shoulder once—her eyes darting between me and Winter.
Then the door shuts, the engine roars to life, and they’re gone.
I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. My whole body feels tight like a wound pulled too hard.
A low whistle sounds behind me.
“Damn,” Clark mutters, stepping up beside me.
“That was… rough.”
“No shit,” Ro adds.
I barely hear them.
My eyes stayed fixed on the spot where the car was, watching until the taillights disappeared down the road, my heart still lodged in my goddamn throat.
I don’t know how long I stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, but eventually, my legs gave out.
I slump onto the nearest bench, my elbows resting on my knees as I bury my face in my hands. My chest feels tight like I can’t get enough air like I’m suffocating under the weight of my own fucking mistakes.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath.
The bench shifts as someone sits next to me. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Harry. He doesn’t say anything at first—just clasps his hands together and exhales slowly.
Clark stands in front of us, arms crossed, looking down at me like I’m the dumbest idiot alive.
“Well,” he finally says. “I still think you should have read my speech.”
I shoot him a glare, but there’s no real fire behind it.
I feel too fucking drained.
Harry shakes his head.
“Come on, man, cut him some slack.” He nudges me with his shoulder.
“You okay?”
I let out a dry, humourless laugh.
“What do you think?”
Harry sighs. “Yeah. Thought so.”
For a moment, none of us speak.
The campus moves around us like nothing happened, like my entire world didn’t just fucking crack apart. Students walk by, some sneaking glances, some whispering, some pretending not to care.
“She heard me,” I say, staring at the ground.
“She heard everything.”
“And she still walked away,” Clark finishes.
I nod.
My throat feels tight again, and I swallow hard.
Harry leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care, Z. She just… she’s hurt. She should be hurt. You can’t expect her to flip a switch just because you finally pulled your head out of your ass.”
I let his words sink in, and deep down, I know he’s right. But it still fucking hurts.
Clark huffs, running a hand through his hair.
“Look, man, you want my advice?”
I glance up at him. “Not really.”
“Too bad,” he says.
“Because here it is—you don’t give up. You keep proving to her that this isn’t just some bullshit guilt trip, that you’re serious.”
Ro nods in agreement. “You can’t force her to forgive you, but you can show her why she should.”
I stare at them for a long moment, my pulse pounding in my ears. Then, slowly, I nod.
Because they’re right.
Winter might have walked away today.
But that doesn’t mean this is over.
Then her words echo in my mind
*Not now!*
*She didn’t say never.*
*She said not now.*
And I can work with not now.
Clark claps his hands together.
"Well, if the girls get to skip, why the hell shouldn’t we?" He grins, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"How about we head to my place? We’ll call it...Operation Thaw Snowflake."
I stare at him blankly. "I’m not in the fucking mood, Clark."
"Yeah, no shit," Clark deadpans. "Which is exactly why you need this."
Harry leans in.
"Come on, man. Sitting here wallowing in self-pity isn’t gonna fix anything. You need a plan."
Clark smirks. "And I happen to be a master strategist when it comes to grand gestures."
I raise an eyebrow. "Your last ‘grand gesture’ involved serenading a girl in the cafeteria with an off-key love song and getting hit in the face with a lunch tray."
Clark shrugs. "Okay, fine. Not my best work. But that just means I’ve learned from my mistakes." He slings an arm around my shoulders.
"Come on, Z. You wanna win her back? Then let’s do this the right way."
I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair. Every instinct is telling me to shut down, to isolate, to just dwell in this suffocating guilt. But the truth is… they’re right. Sitting here won’t change anything.
I nod reluctantly. "Fine. But if this turns into some stupid rom-com bullshit, I’m leaving."
Clark grins. "Noted. Now let’s go plan your redemption arc, lover boy."
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