Page 79 of Shadowed Whispers

I’m not sure which answer I want, or perhaps I’m afraid of any answer at all.

“Why did you let me go two years ago?” I whisper, the weight of years hanging between us.

Bishop’s gaze drops, his silence stretching out before he finally speaks, each word heavy with unspoken regret. “Sometimes, firefly, we hurt those we love out of necessity—the cruel choice between two devastating paths.”

There is so much to unpack there. Firstly, he just claimed to love me, and secondly, he suggested he didn’t have a choice. Looking away, I roll those two notions over and over in my mind, like smooth stones in a tumultuous sea.

I don’t know what love is. I’m not sure I even know what real relationships or friendships look like. I have nothing to compare it to—no parents who offered me unconditional love, no siblings. I have nothing but my shadows.

I suppose I love my shadows unconditionally, but is it real? Can one truly love something as intangible and fleeting as shadows?

“Come on.” I stand up, brushing bits of grass off my clothes—a mundane action that helps ground me. “We have a cipher to decode.”

“That we do,” Bishop murmurs, his voice low and resonant with an undercurrent of something unreadable.

I begin to walk away, my steps measured, reflecting the cautious peace I’ve brokered with myself about our situation. I’m not his biggest fan, not by a long shot, but for right now, I can coexist beside him while delving into these ancient texts. My mind can engage in puzzles, even if my heart remains wary, shielded by layers of doubt and past betrayals.

Chapter 27

Frankie

If it weren’t for the fact that I need at least a B on this paper, I would tell Tori to go fuck herself because I do not—and I repeat, I do not want to work with her on a paper. I’m almost positive that the universe is deliberately messing with me right now by placing her in my path.

Our professor even drew names out of a hat. This is a coincidence, but I’m not laughing like the universe seems to be.

This is why we are sitting at one of the back tables at the bar, enveloped in the dim, moody lighting that casts shadows across the old wooden surfaces. The clink of glasses and the low murmur of other patrons create a distant backdrop for our silent standoff.

No words have been spoken between us, we are just staring at each other, the tension thick, neither of us knowing how to start this fraught conversation.

Awkward…

We have shared a dorm for weeks. It’s almost the middle of the semester, and I don’t understand why professors believe that working with someone builds character, but clearly, they are sadists dressed in tweed.

Running my tongue over my teeth, I heave out a breath. I’m going to have to shatter the tension. This passing by and not talking isn’t going to work. Ever since that one day when we walked to class together, she’s given me the cold shoulder.

I don’t blame her. I did sleep with her boyfriend, but that one small moment with her made me crave friendship, which is ridiculous. I’ve never had an ally, and that conversation made me want one.

I can’t even say I’m purposely avoiding Bishop either. I’m not, because we are still working on the cipher together. It’s slow going, but it’s going, and I focus on the cipher more than I focus on him. He is a slight distraction though—one I’m learning to ignore.

Thankfully, Andy has been bringing us beer. I’m not a huge fan of beer, but we are half a glass in, and I think it’s loosening my tongue.

“So…” I draw the word out, tapping my eraser on a blank page in my notebook. “Technical writing. What topic do you want to write about?”

Blowing her bangs off her forehead, Tori finally looks up at me. Her jaw is tight, and her eyes burn with an anger that can only mean one thing.

She knows about Bishop. I can see it in the way her eyes narrow, filled with betrayal, pain, and simmering anger. As I catch her gaze, I feel a chill, realizing the depth of hurt I’ve caused. I glance around, seeking a semblance of privacy in the crowded bar.

“You know,” I begin, my voice barely a whisper, acknowledging the elephant in the room with a heavy heart.

At the time, I only thought of the pleasure Bishop could bring me, and hell with the consequences.

Well, here are the consequences, staring me in the face.

When she only glares at me, I blow out a breath and glance over her shoulder, ensuring that the door between the bar areas is closed. “You know.”

“How could you?” she screeches, her voice slicing through the buzz of the bar, drawing a few curious glances our way.

Okay, so this isn’t going well. I knew this would eventually come out, and hell, I probably shouldn’t have waited as long as I did, but here we are.

---