"Clara... you have no idea how much I've wanted to hear you say that. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not letting you go, either. We'll figure this out. I promise. Jake... he's stubborn, but he's not unreasonable. He just needs time to cool off."
"So… I'll tell him the truth—that I like you, and that part of why I trusted you was because you're his best friend. I trust Jake… I just hope he understands."
"You think that'll work?" He sounded hopeful, but there was a definite edge of caution in his voice.
"He might respect the honesty. It's better than trying to lie, for sure. Just... be careful, okay? He's hurt. When you do talk to him, try not to corner him. Maybe wait until he's calmed down a little more. I don't want you getting caught in the crossfire."
Two days later, I knocked on Jake's door.
"Hey, Jake… I'm ready to talk. If you're still up for it, can we… talk?"
The silence from within the room stretched for a long, uncomfortable moment. I heard the faint sound of movement, a shift of weight on a creaking bed. Then, footsteps. The lock clicked open, and the door swung inward just enough for me to see him. He wasn't angry anymore. He just looked... tired. His hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He leaned against the door frame, his expression unreadable as he looked at me.
"Come in."
"Okay..." I walked into his room with tears in my eyes. "I'm sorry… I didn't know how to talk to you."
He didn't say anything. He just stepped back, giving me space to enter his room, and closed the door softly behind me. The air in the room was stale, the curtains drawn. He crossed his arms, not in anger, but as if he were holding himself together. He watched my tears, his own expression remaining flat, exhausted. The silence sat between us, heavy with unspoken accusations and regrets.
"You said some things you didn't mean. So did I."
It wasn't an apology, not really. It was just a statement of fact. A weary acknowledgment of the damage done.
I kept sobbing. Every sob was a plea for the version of us that existed before everything broke.
"I love you, and I trust you. You know that. That's why I trusted him—because he's your best friend. And… I like him. I'm not asking you to be happy about it. I'm just… asking you to understand me. I know it felt like we betrayed you… but that wasn't what happened. I'm sorry I hurt you with my thoughtless behavior. I know you acted out of love for me… Please, understand."
He listened to my entire confession, his gaze fixed on the floor. For a long time after I finished, he said nothing. The only sound was my own quiet sobs. Finally, he let out a long, slow breath and sank onto the edge of his bed, running a hand over his tired face. When he finally looked up at me, the hardness was gone from his eyes, replaced by a profound sadness.
"I know you like him, Clara. I'm not blind. I saw it before you did." His voice was low, rough with emotion. "It's not that I don't want you to be happy. It's just... he is my best friend. And you're my little sister. There are rules. There's a line you don't cross. And he just... he pole vaulted over it. Lying to me... hiding... that's what hurt. The disrespect. It felt like neither of you trusted me at all."
"As much as you saw it before I did… I also knew you'd be upset even if I had told you," I replied. "When I asked you to introduce us, you were the one who said no. So what was I supposed to do? I wasn't hiding because I didn't trust you. I was scared of exactly this—of hurting you. I understand how it felt, though… and I'm truly sorry, Jake."
He winced, the memory clearly hitting a nerve. My words were true, and he knew it. He looked away, unable to meet my gaze, a flicker of his own guilt crossing his face.
"Yeah. I did say no." He sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. "I was trying to protect you. Oliver... he's a good guy, but he's been through a lot of girls, Clara. I didn't want you to be just another one. You're... you're different. You're my sister." He finally looked back at me, his eyes full of a frustrating, protective love. "I guess I was trying to protect him from you, too. I knew if he ever really fell for someone, it would be for keeps. And I just... I never thought it would be you." He let out a humorless laugh. "Dammit. I hate that I'm even having this conversation."
"Oh, Jake... can I give you a hug?"
He looked at me, his face still a mask of weary conflict. For a moment, he hesitated. Then, with another heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the last two days, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. He didn't move towards me, but he didn't pull away either. He just sat there on the edge of his bed and waited, opening himself up to my gesture of reconciliation.
I stepped closer and wrapped my arms gently around his torso, resting my cheek against him.
"I know you're only trying to protect me. I've always known. I still remember when you fought those boys who bullied me in second grade… You were my hero then. You still are."
The moment my arms went around him, I felt the tension in his body. He was stiff, resistant for a second. But as my words sank in, a shudder ran through his large frame. Slowly, hesitantly, one of his arms came up and wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into a proper, tight hug. He rested his chin on the top of my head.
His voice was a low, thick rumble against my ear. "Don't..." He swallowed hard. "Don't ever stop talking to me again, Clara. You can be mad at me. You can yell. But don't ever say 'not ever.' I can't..." He broke off, his hug tightening almost painfully for a second before he relaxed his grip. "You're my sister. You're all I've got."
"I will never stop talking to you." I held him tighter, breathing against his shoulder. "You're not alone, Jake. You have me. Always."
He held me for a long moment. The silence in the room was finally comfortable, healing. He gave me one last squeeze before letting go, his hands resting on my shoulders as he pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were red rimmed, but clear. "Okay." He took a deep breath. "Okay. So. He makes you happy? Oliver?"
He said the name without spitting it like venom. It was progress.
"You're sure about him? Because if he hurts you, Clara, I swear to God... my friendship with him will be the least of his problems."
"About that… He told me he liked me from the very beginning. And I… I've liked him for a while, too. But I wanted to make sure it was real before saying anything to you."
He listened, his expression still serious. He searched my face as I spoke, gauging my sincerity. The fact that this wasn't just a one night fling, that there were real, long standing feelings on both sides... it seemed to land with him. It didn't erase the hurt, but it reframed it.
"From the beginning, huh?" He let out a soft, humorless puff of air, shaking his head slightly. "Of course he did. Damn idiot's been staring at you like a lovesick puppy for months. I just thought he knew better than to act on it." He let go of my shoulders and scrubbed a hand over his face again. "So this is serious. You're... together. A couple."
He said the words as if testing them out, feeling the shape of them in his mouth. It was a statement of fact, a confirmation, but also a question.
"He didn't make a move because he was scared to ruin anything. I'm the one who asked him out first. So yes… it surprised him when I finally said something first."
Jake stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. A beat of silence passed. Then another. He let out a short, incredulous bark of a laugh, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.
"You... You asked him out first? Seriously?" He shook his head, a slow, wry smile finally breaking through his grim expression. It wasn't a happy smile, but it was a genuine one.
"Of course you did. And I had spent two days wanting to rip his head off, thinking he was the one who had made the move."
He sighed, the last of the righteous anger seeming to drain out of him, leaving behind a weary resignation.
"I should've known. You've always been more fearless than both of us put together." He looked at me, a new understanding dawning in his eyes.
"So all this time, he was just being a gigantic, respectful idiot, and you were the one who finally got tired of waiting?"
I chuckled. The sound was thick with leftover tears, but a genuine smile finally broke through the grief.
"Do you know why I am fearless? …Because of you. Because I've always had the strongest backup in the world—you, Jake."
He fell silent, my words hitting him squarely in the chest. He looked away, but I saw the telltale shimmer in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, swallowing hard. The praise, the absolute faith I had in him, completely disarmed him. He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture of deep, embarrassed emotion.
"Dammit, Clara," he muttered, his voice thick. "That's not fair." He took a shaky breath and finally met my eyes again. The fight was completely gone. In its place was a weary, protective love.
"Okay. Forget grounding. But you owe me. Big time. Now... give me your phone."