Jace POV
It hurts like a bitch, okay?
Don’t let the cool act fool you. Don’t think sitting here with my arm draped around Tatiana and a fake-ass smile on my face means I’m good.
Because I’m not.
I’m falling apart.
But I had to do this.
I had to show my team that I was loyal to the game. That I was serious. That I wasn’t letting some girl—the girl—ruin everything I worked for. I had to prove to my father that I was still his “perfect project,” his volleyball son.
This wasn’t just about me anymore.
I was this close to getting suspended. My coach pulled me aside and told me if I didn’t “cut ties” with Lola Sinclair, I was off the team. The committee already saw the photos. The rumors were flying. The whispers were louder than ever.
So what choice did I have?
Even though I love her.
God. I love her.
And that feeling in my stomach every time I see her? That ache in my chest every time she looks away from me like I’m a stranger? It’s killing me.
But I can’t be with her.
Being with Lola means losing everything I’ve spent years trying to protect—my future, my reputation, my already thin relationship with my father. It means losing what little I have left of my family.
But not being with her?
Feels like I’ve already lost it all anyway. I’ve never been this confused. This angry. This lost. So, yeah. I started messing with Tatiana again.
She was easy. Too easy. And she was more than willing to throw herself back into my life. I didn’t have to think about her. Didn’t have to explain anything. I didn’t even have to feel.
She wasn’t Lola.
But she was around. And for now, that was enough to distract me.
Or so I told myself.
We were sitting in the diner—me, Tatiana, a few of my teammates—laughing like nothing was wrong, like everything wasn’t crumbling around me. Tatiana had her arm hooked through mine, her head resting on my shoulder like she belonged there.
She didn’t.
And I couldn’t stop looking across the room.
Because there she was.
Lola.
Sitting in a booth by herself.
Her hands were wrapped around a smoothie glass, her eyes red, her shoulders tense. Her face looked tired. Worn out. Her soul looked bruised.
And she still looked like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I couldn’t stop staring. She didn’t belong in this mess. She didn’t deserve any of this.
And I was making it worse.
“Hey, Jace,” Jenna said from across the table, breaking me out of my spiral. She was on my team, loud and always nosy. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, leaning back, pretending to be chill. “I’m fine.”
She followed my gaze, her eyes flicking toward Lola’s booth. “You should forget her.”
“I am,” I said immediately. Too quickly.
Jenna raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
I didn’t answer. Because I couldn’t.
Tatiana must’ve noticed something in the air, because she slid her hand over to my thigh and leaned in closer, her perfume hitting me like a fog.
“I’m here for whatever you need,” she said, her voice soft and sticky.
I wanted to roll my eyes so badly. But I didn’t. I just forced another smile. Because that’s what I do, right?
Pretend. Perform. Numb it out.
I laughed at something stupid someone said. Tatiana giggled beside me. Jenna leaned over to tell a story about our last match. People were living.
And I?
I was dying on the inside.
Mom would’ve known what to do. She would’ve had the right words. The right advice. She always did. If she were here, I’d tell her everything. About Lola. About the pain. About the pressure. About how empty I feel trying to be someone I’m not.
Mom, I wish you were here.