Chapter 123: Chapter 123

The silence after her words was different now. It wasn’t just awkward or tense. It was final.

The room around them felt colder, like someone had opened a window to let all the warmth escape.

"If that’s what he wants?" he echoed, his voice low, but edged with something sharp. "Really?"

Craig looked at her like he hadn’t heard her right, like if he just stared long enough, hard enough, she might take it back.

And that’s what gutted him.

It felt like she was throwing away everything they had just built, everything they’d survived, as though it was nothing. Like it was trash.

She made it sound like their relationship was just some old receipt she crumpled and tossed into the nearest bin. Quick. Thoughtless. Final. Like letting go of him wasn’t a loss—it was convenience.

But the truth was, Merlina was exhausted. Bone-deep, soul-heavy exhausted.

Her mind was fogged from too many restless nights, her body sore from tension she never released, from the emotional damage her parents left her and her siblings with.

The last few days, though a part of it beautiful, her heart felt like it had been put through a paper shredder and left to beat in pieces. She wasn’t giving up because she didn’t care. She was giving up because every part of her hurt.

And because somewhere deep down, she was sure she’d already lost.

"Fuck, Merlina...why would you even say that?" Craig said again, his voice breaking slightly this time.

She let out a sharp breath, blinked fast, then smacked her palm against her thigh. A quick and tense motion, as if she needed the sting to ground her frustration. Her body couldn’t quite keep up with her emotions.

"What would you have me say?" she asked, voice rising. "You want me to pretend? That I’m fine? Even if your father is the one trying to ruin my life? That this isn’t killing me?"

Her hands flew out helplessly, motioning to the cracked pieces of their world. "That it’s okay? That we can somehow get through this? I’m not gonna lie to myself, Craig."

Craig knew she was right, he understood her frustration, but that didn’t stop the sting of her words from settling deep in his chest. Or the urge to defend himself, or their relationship. But in this moment, he had nothing justifiable to say.

She didn’t mean to sound angry, but the desperation was there, shaking in her voice. "This is not just some warning, this is an expulsion, a Lawsuit, my entire life...I can’t let it just fall apart. My dad’s in prison, my mom can barely hold herself together, the time in hiding must’ve changed her. It’s all too much, I can’t...I can’t fight this."

She stood abruptly, because sitting still, staying close to him, was suffocating. As though, she needed to physically pull herself out of whatever remained between them.

Craig stood too, slowly, his eyes fixed on hers like he was watching the only real thing in his life slip away. "Do you think I’m just gonna sit back and let this happen to you?"

"It’s already happening!" she snapped, stepping back. Her voice cracked on the last word like it cut her to say it.

She paused, her chest rising too fast, her body was trying to outrun the pain.

Her eyes lifted to him, just for a moment, then she took a slow, trembling step closer. Some part of her still wanted to close the space, even as everything else was tearing apart.

"I wish things were different," she said, and her voice wobbled despite her best effort. "But they’re not. And I’m tired, Craig. I’m so tired of fighting battles I didn’t start."

And this was the worst one yet.

How the hell was she going to win against a man who had the power to expel her from a College he didn’t even own ?

She looked at him, not with anger, but ache. Like she was memorizing him before she had to let go. "And I know..." she said, barely more than a breath, "you wouldn’t have let it come to this if you had control over it."

She paused, long enough for the silence to hurt, "But you don’t." Her throat tightened.

The words sat heavy on her tongue, like a sob trying to rise, because she knew even he couldn’t save her from this and that was what made her feel more helpless.

Craig’s fists clenched at his sides. His whole body looked like a contradiction, held together on the outside, unraveling from the inside.

"So that’s it?" he said hoarsely. "You’re just going to give up? I would’ve fought the whole world for you. And you won’t even fight for us?"

Merlina’s gaze dropped. Not in shame or guilt.

But because she couldn’t meet his eyes, not when what he said was true.

He had fought. Harder than anyone. Especially these past few days. He’d gone out of his way to make sure she was okay. To make things feel safe, steady, even when everything around them was falling apart. But sometimes, even trying isn’t enough.

How was she supposed to stay, to choose him, when she wasn’t sure she had a life anymore?

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. A tear threatened to slip, like it had been waiting for the exact moment her heart broke, but Merlina wiped it away, too fast, too rough, like if she caught it in time, it wouldn’t count.

"There is no us," she said softly, her voice nearly swallowed by the silence. Then even lower, as if saying it aloud might finally make it real. "There never was."

Craig’s brow tightened. The words didn’t just hit him, they sank in deep, carving into him like a knife. His breath thinned into something jagged, each inhale scraping against his ribs.

The look on his face shifted, shock first, then something more fragile. Heartbreak. Plain and raw. It aged him and made him look younger all at once, like he was stripped down to something unguarded. Vulnerable.

She saw the flinch in his eyes. The way his body stiffened like he’d been struck. Like her voice had cut him open. And it wrecked her, because this wasn’t how they were supposed to end.

The silence between them felt full, too full, crowded with everything unsaid. Everything they still wanted to believe in.

She turned away, fast. Too fast. Because if she let herself look at him any longer, she would’ve broken right there. Fallen apart in a way she couldn’t put back together.

Her footsteps dragged as she crossed to the table. She didn’t glance back. Just reached for the lawsuit file, fingers trembling slightly as she tucked the pages back into place.

He didn’t know whether to reach for her or let her go. Every small, quiet move she made felt like a nail in the coffin.

This didn’t feel like a fight anymore.

It felt like goodbye.

But he couldn’t just let her walk away, not . Not when she was falling into pieces. Not when he could still see the part of her that didn’t want to go.

So he moved toward her. Carefully. Like stepping up behind a cliff edge.

"You’re not yourself," he said, voice low, almost pleading. "I get it. You’re hurt. But right now... you’re saying things you don’t mean."

Merlina turned slowly, "No!" she said, steady this time. Almost angry,"This is me finally saying what I should’ve said a long time ago, this is the clearest I’ve been in months." She didn’t blink. Didn’t back down.

"This," she said, motioning between them, "should’ve never happened. Whatever this was, it was a fantasy. A stupid, reckless idea we both should’ve known better than to entertain. And maybe it’s a good thing it’s ending now. Better than wasting more time pretending this could ever work."

Those words, ’fantasy, reckless idea’ cut deeper than anything she’d said before.

For a second, he wasn’t looking at Merlina. He was hearing his father’s voice all over again. Cold, condescending, always certain that Craig’s choices would amount to nothing.

He took a step back, like the room had tilted under him.

The one person he thought would never throw those words at him, the one person in the world he thought understood what happened between them, was now repeating the very things he had a sleepless night trying not to believe.

And somehow, it hurt worse than everything he’d heard from his father.

"Wow," he said. Low. Bitter. "That’s what we were to you?"

Merlina didn’t answer, maybe because she thought if she did, she’d unravel. And Craig waited, for her to say anything to soften the blow.

"You know what?" he said, a sharp laugh breaking through the tension. "Maybe you’re right, Merlina. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better we end it now before it gets any more pathetic."

He hated himself the second he said it. Hated the way her face barely reacted, like she’d already left in every way that mattered.

She turned without a word, her bag slung over her shoulder like she was walking out of more than just the room. Craig stayed still, watching her retreat.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak, because he was tired too, of the obstacles. Of being the one always fighting for them.

But when he saw her walking away, stepping past the couch, crossing the strip of light spilling in through the window, heading straight for the door, something inside him panicked.

Her eyes were still rimmed red, her face tight with the weight of unspoken things. And suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t just the silence. It was the finality in her walk, the way she didn’t glance back, the way she carried heartbreak like it was already packed and waiting at the door.

"Merlina," he said—soft, but sharp enough to cut through the room.

And that was when the panic sank its teeth into him. The kind that didn’t ask questions, just moved.

In a heartbeat, he was across the room, reaching the door just as she did. She’d already opened it. And before she could take that last step out of his life, he slammed it shut, his hand flat against the wood, blocking her exit.

Neither of them spoke. The stillness throbbed like a bruise.

Craig stood there, his body a barrier between her and the world outside. His chest rose and fell, too fast, like he couldn’t catch his breath, not from the sprint, but from everything else.

From the memory of her.

From how much she still meant to him and the fact that he knew he was never gonna be ready to let her go.

"If there’s really no us," he said, voice rough but steady, "then why the hell does it feel like losing you is the one thing I wouldn’t survive?"