Betty’s POV
“Just say it. God.” I was at my limit.
Brent’s eyes were heavy with guilt, his usual easy confidence replaced with something vulnerable. "It’s about this girl I met in the immersion… Megan… I got her pregnant.”
The string lights hanging above glowed softly, creating a dreamy atmosphere I couldn’t have cared less about. Not with Brent standing in front of me, saying this.
"I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.".
I crossed my arms. "Then how was I supposed to find out, Brent?" My voice was sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. "From Stacey? From Megan? God forbid, maybe you’d finally decide I’m worth the truth?"
"I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want to hurt you."
A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. "You always do that, don’t you? Decide what’s best for me. What I can handle. You think that makes you noble, Brent?"
He looked away for a moment"I didn’t lie," he said. "I just—"
"You just didn’t tell me," I finished. "Do you know what hurts the most? It’s not even the pregnancy. It’s that everyone knew except me. I was the last to know. Like I didn’t even matter."
"That’s not true," Brent tried to reach for me, but I stepped back. "You matter more than anyone."
I met his gaze.
"Maybe we really did outgrow each other, Brent."
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but nothing came. The words hung between us like a chasm, so wide and deep that neither of us knew how to cross it.
I turned before he could stop me, my heart pounding as I pushed through the crowd of dancing students. The gym blurred around me, the music pulsing like a distant echo in my ears. By the time I shoved through the double doors and into the cool night air, my chest was heaving, and my tears were falling freely.
***
The parking lot was quieter, the faint hum of distant traffic the only sound. I wiped at my face furiously, trying to pull myself together, but it felt impossible. My chest ached, my breaths shallow as I tried to stop the sobs building in my throat.
When I finally looked up, I froze.
Marcus was leaning against his car, one hand casually in his pocket, the other resting on the roof. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze was sharp, taking me in. His usual smirk was softer somehow, like he’d turned down the volume on his usual arrogance.
"Running from Brent again?".
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My tears kept falling, and I hated how raw and exposed I felt in that moment.
Marcus sighed, straightening as he reached for the passenger door and pulled it open. "Get in.".
"What are you doing here?"
"I had a feeling you’d need a ride. Let’s go somewhere."
I bit my lip, debating whether I could trust him. I couldn’t go back inside, and I couldn’t bear to stand there alone in the parking lot any longer.
I slid into the car.