Chapter One

SOLANA

The morning light creeps through the sheer curtains, casting a golden glow over the bedroom. It should feel warm, comforting even, but it doesn’t.

It only highlights the mess from last night—his overturned whiskey glass on the nightstand, my shattered perfume bottle near the dresser, and the faint bruise forming on my wrist and upper arm.

I move slowly, careful not to wake him. The bed dips as I shift, but he doesn’t stir. He’s always peaceful in the mornings, like the man I used to love.

The man who once held my hand just because, who kissed my forehead and told me I was his world. Now, his love feels like a cage, and I’ve learned not to rattle the bars.

My feet touch the cold floor, sending a shiver up my spine. I tiptoe to the bathroom, locking the door behind me before leaning against the sink.

My reflection stares back, hollow-eyed and weary. Last night is written all over my skin—dark circles, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen eyes.

But when I walk out, wrapped in a robe, Tyler is already up.

“Morning, baby.” he says, all charm, like nothing happened. Like he didn’t call me names, he didn’t grab my arm too hard, like I didn’t cry myself to sleep, like he didn’t punch the wall two inches from my face just to make sure that I got the message.

I swallow hard and force a small smile because that’s what I do. That’s what I’ve learned to do.

Tyler doesn’t do apologies. He does resets. He wakes up and decides we’re fine, and if I don’t play along, I’m starting something. So, I play along.

“Morning.” I mumble, my voice hoarse, probably from all the silent crying I did after he finally went to sleep.

He walks over, placing his hands on my waist, pulling me close.

“I missed you in bed.” he murmurs against my temple, his breath warm. His grip is gentle now, but I know how easily that can change.

I force a small smile, my heart hammering. “I—I just woke up early.”

Tyler tilts my chin up, his green eyes scanning my face. “You okay?”

The worst part is that he sounds like he actually cares. Like he’s still that boy from high school who once promised to never hurt me.

I swallow hard and nod. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

He smiles, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Good. Let’s forget about last night, yeah? It’s a new day.”

Forget. Like I always do. Like I always have to.

~~~~~

Tyler is in the kitchen when I step out of the bathroom, freshly showered, my damp hair dripping slightly onto my robe. He’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone while his protein shake sits half-finished beside him.

“You want breakfast?” I ask, my voice quiet.

He glances up, his lips tilting into that lazy smirk. “Nah, but you should eat something. Not just coffee.”

I grab a bowl and some cereal.

“Don't tell me that's what you're eating?” His tone is sharp.

I freeze.

“Solana, come on,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “That's basically empty carbs and sugar. And you wonder why you're always bloated.”

I grab one of his protein bars as I put back the cereal.

He watches me for a moment before returning to his phone. I chew slowly, waiting for him to look away before tossing the rest of the bar into the trash.

I head to the bedroom to get dressed, pulling open my closet. My fingers skim over the oversized sweaters and loose jeans, comfort clothes. Clothes that feel safe.

I reach for a hoodie, but before I can pull it off the hanger, Tyler walks in, towel slung over his shoulder. He eyes my choice and sighs.

“Babe.” He sounds exasperated, like I’m exhausting him. “You’re really wearing that?”

I hesitate, my grip tightening on the fabric. “Yeah… why?”

Tyler steps closer, his hands finding my hips. “You’re my girl, Sol. You should look like it.”

His fingers trail down my sides before he tugs at the hem of my robe, smirking. “You have a killer body. Why hide it?”

I swallow, my pulse quickening.

“I just… I like being comfortable,” I murmur.

He sighs again, shaking his head. “You’re always in baggy shit. Makes it look like I’m dating some shy insecure nerd instead of the hottest girl on campus.”

I force a small laugh, but it’s weak. “I thought you liked that I was a nerd.”

“I did. I do.” His grip tightens for a split second before he steps back, running a hand through his hair.

“I just want you to put in a little effort, that’s all. I mean, come on, Solana. You’re my girlfriend. People look at us.”

People look at him. No one cares about me.

Still, I nod. “Okay.”

He grins, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “That’s my girl.”

I turn back to the closet, fingers trembling as I reach for something tighter, something that won’t disappoint him.

I change into a fitted, long sleeved black crop top and high-waisted jeans, the fabric hugging my body in a way that makes me uncomfortable. It’s not revealing, not really, but it’s not me.

Still, when I step out of the bedroom, Tyler smirks in approval. “Much better.”

“Let’s go.”

As we step outside, I feel the familiar weight settle in my chest. The day hasn’t even started, and I’m already exhausted.

Tyler’s black Audi purrs as he pulls out of the parking lot, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on my thigh.

Once upon a time, I liked his hand in my thigh, but now I just want to shove it off.

The drive is quiet. I don’t try to fill the silence—I learned a long time ago that it’s better that way.

He hums along to the music playing softly through the speakers, completely at ease, like last night never happened, like this morning never happened.

I stare out the window, fingers tracing invisible patterns on my jeans. The city blurs past in shades of grey and gold, students walking the sidewalks, laughing and living.

I wonder if they ever feel trapped, if they ever feel like they’re suffocating inside something that once felt like love.

When we pull into the parking lot, Tyler shifts. The moment the car is in park, it’s like a switch flips. His posture straightens, his features shift into something effortlessly charismatic.

“Let’s go, babe.” he says, flashing me a grin before stepping out.

I hesitate for half a second, inhaling deeply before following. The second we hit the pavement, he’s no longer the Tyler I woke up to—he’s their Tyler. The golden boy. The star quarterback. The campus king.

“Yo, Matthews!” One of his teammates, Caleb, calls from across the lot, jogging over with a grin. “Dude, we’re hitting the gym after practice. You in?”

“Hell yeah,” Tyler laughs, slapping his hand in a firm handshake. “Gotta keep up the grind.”

The rest of the team trickles in, greeting him with easy smiles and back slaps, cracking jokes and making plans. He thrives in their presence, so effortlessly charming, so magnetic.

I shift my backpack higher on my shoulder, standing slightly behind him, as if I can make myself invisible. This is his world. I just exist in it.

Tyler glances over his shoulder at me, as if just remembering I’m here. His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me into his side.

“You good, baby?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah.”

He presses a quick kiss to my temple, playing the role of the perfect boyfriend. “I’ll walk you to class.”

The guys whistle and tease, and Tyler just grins. He’s perfect. Untouchable. And no one—not one of them—sees the cracks beneath the surface.

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