Betty’s POV
The afternoon sun filtered through the tall oaks lining the quad, dappling the stone walkway with shifting patches of light. I hugged my sketchpad to my chest as I hurried toward the library, dodging clusters of students sprawled on the grass.
I had every intention of focusing on the designs for the showcase, but my thoughts kept drifting to Brent. I hadn’t called him back last night, and guilt gnawed at me. He deserved more than scattered texts and rushed replies, but it was hard to make time with everything piling up.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the figure leaning against the base of one of the larger trees until I was almost past him.
Marcus.
My breath hitched as my eyes locked on his. He looked different—leaner, maybe, or just… heavier, as though he were carrying more weight than the last time I’d seen him. His sharp features were still the same, but the usual smugness that clung to him seemed dulled, replaced by something quieter.
“Betty,” he said, his voice low but unmistakable.
For a moment, I debated pretending I hadn’t heard him, but his tone stopped me cold. It wasn’t a demand or a sneer—it was softer, almost hesitant. Against my better judgment, I stopped, tightening my grip on my sketchpad.
“What do you want, Marcus?” I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the sudden tension knotting in my chest.
He stepped closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. “I just… wanted to see how you were doing,” he said, his gaze flicking to the ground before meeting mine again.
I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “Why?”
He hesitated, and for the first time, he looked uncertain. “Because I care.”
The words hung in the air between us, heavier than I was ready to handle. I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. What could I say to that?
“Look, I know I messed up,” Marcus continued, his voice soft but firm. “I know I hurt you, and I can’t undo that. But I’ve been trying, Betty. I’m trying to be better.”
My chest tightened. There was a time when I would’ve wanted to hear those words from him, when I thought an apology might be enough to erase everything. But now?
“I’m glad you’re trying,” I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended. “But Marcus… whatever’s between us, it’s over. I’ve moved on.”
His jaw tightened, and I saw a flicker of something—hurt, maybe?—flash across his face before he quickly masked it.
“With Brent,” he said, his tone careful, like he was testing the weight of the words.
I didn’t reply, but the answer was obvious enough.
He nodded slowly, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “I figured.”
I shifted my weight uncomfortably, unsure of how to end the conversation. But Marcus spoke again before I could.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, his voice softer now, “I hope he knows how lucky he is.”
The words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I couldn’t reply. When I finally found my voice, it was barely above a whisper. “Thanks, Marcus.”
I turned and walked away, my heart pounding in my chest.
***
Marcus’s POV
Watching her walk away felt like ripping off a bandage I hadn’t been ready to lose.
I leaned back against the tree, letting out a long, shaky breath. I hadn’t meant to stop her, hadn’t meant to say anything, but seeing her again had stirred something I thought I’d buried.
Betty looked good—confident, strong. She was still the same, but different, too. There was a lightness about her now, a clarity that made me painfully aware of how much I’d lost.
I’d wanted to tell her everything—about Stacey, about how hard I was trying to fix my mistakes, about how much I still thought about her—but the words got stuck somewhere between my chest and my throat.
She didn’t need that from me. Not anymore.
As I watched her disappear into the library, I made a silent promise to myself.
I’d leave her alone. For good this time.