Marcus’s POV
The mansion loomed ahead, as cold and imposing as I remembered, its grandeur doing little to hide the cracks that had been exposed within its walls. Walking the familiar path to the sitting room, I could feel the weight of its history pressing down on me, a silent reminder of everything that had happened here. When I stepped inside, Stacey was already there, lounging on one of the oversized sofas with a glass of lemonade in hand.
“Well, look who it is,” she drawled, smirking as I entered. “To what do I owe the honor, Marcus?”
I shrugged, flopping onto the couch across from her. The cushions sank beneath me, and I stretched out, letting the tension in my shoulders ease. “Just checking in,” I said casually. “Thought you might need backup after everything that’s gone down.”
She raised an eyebrow, taking a slow, deliberate sip of her drink. “Backup? Or an excuse to avoid your own problems?”
I chuckled, leaning back and folding my arms behind my head. “Fair point. So… what’s your plan now that the article’s out?”
The smirk on her lips faded, replaced by something more thoughtful. She set her glass down on the table, her fingers tracing the rim absently. “My plan is to graduate,” she said finally, her voice quieter but resolute. “Keep Dad and Monica out of my life, and maybe—just maybe—find a way to rebuild what they broke.”
I nodded, her determination striking a chord. “Solid plan,” I said, glancing at her. “What about after that?”
She tilted her head, studying me with a wry smile. “What about you, Marcus? You’ve been playing hero for weeks. What’s your plan now?”
I shrugged, letting my gaze drift to the ornate rug beneath us. Its intricate patterns blurred as I thought about the question. “Same, I guess. Graduate. Start fresh. Keep my head down.”
Stacey’s laughter broke the quiet, low and teasing. “And you’re really never going to tell Betty about your plan to ask her to be your girlfriend?”
Her words hit harder than I expected, like a punch I hadn’t seen coming. My jaw tightened, and I glanced away, masking the sting with a forced chuckle. “I’ve seen enough,” I said finally. “She’s happy with Brent. That’s all that matters.”
“Marcus…” Stacey’s voice softened, the teasing edge gone. “That question might haunt you for the rest of your life, you know.”
I met her gaze, forcing a smirk even as the words lingered in my chest like an ache I couldn’t shake. “Let it,” I said, my tone light. “Besides, I’m seeing someone.”
Her eyebrows shot up, her surprise unmistakable. “Really? Who?”
“Bianca,” I said with a smirk, leaning back into the cushions.
Her jaw dropped, and she stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “From the Tattelle Belles? Marcus, she’s super young for you!”
I chuckled, enjoying her reaction more than I probably should have. “That’s why it’s going to be fun.”
Stacey groaned, dragging a hand down her face as she shook her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe,” I said, the smirk slipping from my lips for just a moment. “But I’m moving on, Stace. That’s what matters.”
She studied me for a moment, her expression softening. “If you say so, Marcus.”
I nodded, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. The silence between us stretched, not uncomfortable but full of things left unsaid. Whatever paths we were on now, they were diverging, but for this moment, it felt like the past weeks had brought us to the same place. Maybe that was enough.