Page 65 of Boards & Betrayal

Instead, I tiptoed around the room, grabbing a few things from my dresser as silently as possible. My heart ached with the need for comfort, but I knew waking him would only bring questions I wasn't ready to answer.

With one last glance at Tom, I turned and slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. There were things I needed to figure out, and for now, I'd have to do it alone.

I leaned against the door after closing it behind me, letting out a shaky breath. The silence of the house enveloped me, echoing in my head.

I sank onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. The tears finally came then—silent and relentless—each one a small release of the overwhelming emotions inside me.

What was I supposed to do now? The question echoed in my mind as I sat there, feeling lost and adrift in a sea of uncertainty. This was my dream, and now…

Now what?

Chapter 20

Tom

Iwoke to the faint sound of murmuring from the other room. I blinked once, twice, letting the early morning light filter through the blinds. I couldn’t remember I slept so well. It felt almost unnatural, like a luxury I wasn’t meant to indulge in.

Stretching, I stood and pulled on a pair of sweats before heading into the living room. The hardwood floor was cold under my feet, but it felt grounding.

Ally paced back and forth across the room, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. Her auburn hair, usually so composed, fell in loose waves around her face. She wore jeans and a simple sweater that clung to her petite frame in a way that seemed both practical and effortlessly stylish. She’d clearly been up for a while, the weariness etched into her movements.

Her expressive blue eyes darted around as she spoke, intense and focused on whoever was on the other end of the line. There was a vulnerability in her posture that she couldn’t quite hide—shoulders slightly hunched, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater as she walked.

I leaned against the doorframe, taking her in. She hadn’t noticed me yet, too wrapped up in whatever conversation she was having. Wasn’t she supposed to be at work? The thought gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside for now.

She continued to pace, her voice rising and falling with an urgency that tugged at something deep inside me. This wasn’t just any phone call; it was something significant. And yet, despite the tension in her voice, there was a strength there—a quiet resilience that reminded me why I couldn’t stay away from her.

For a moment, I just watched her, trying to piece together what had happened while I slept so peacefully in the next room.

"…don't have anything after graduation," she continued, her voice strained. "I had been counting on that. Isn't there anything I can do?—"

A pause filled the room, heavy and tense.

"No," she finally said, sounding defeated. "He mentioned budget cuts, but…" she trailed off, her frustration palpable even from across the room. "It doesn't matter. Do you know any other studios hiring?"

There was a beat of silence, an eternity stretched thin by her growing despair.

Ally sighed deeply. "No, I understand," she said softly. "Thanks."

She hung up the phone with a sharp click and muttered under her breath, "Fuck."

I couldn't stand it anymore. "Everything okay?" I asked, stepping forward.

Ally jumped, nearly dropping her phone. "Jesus, Tom," she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. Her eyes widened as they flicked to my bare torso before she quickly looked away.

A faint blush crept up her cheeks, and I couldn't help but smirk. It sure as hell got harder to keep this shape the older I got, but seeing that look on her face made it all worth it.

"Didn't mean to scare you," I said, my voice softening.

She shook her head, still not meeting my eyes. "No, it's fine. Just... wasn't expecting you to be up yet."

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us. "You want to talk about it?"

She hesitated for a moment before finally looking up at me. Her eyes were filled with frustration and something else—something raw and vulnerable that tugged at my heart.

"I lost my job," she admitted quietly. "They said it was because of budget cuts, but... I don't know."

The weight of her words hung in the air between us. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

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