By Monday morning, Aria Bennett could feel it before she saw it.
It was in the way conversations softened when she walked past.
In the half-second pauses before laughter resumed.
In the eyes that lingered a little too long curious, measuring, speculative.
Rumors didn't arrive loudly.
They crept.
Aria stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the strap of her bag, studying her reflection like she always did before stepping out. She looked composed hair neatly styled, outfit simple but flattering, expression calm. Anyone watching would assume she had everything together.
She didn't.
She had learned, over time, that strength didn't mean certainty. It meant showing up anyway.
The walk to campus felt longer than usual. Students clustered in familiar groups, phones in hands, voices low. She caught fragments of conversation as she passed.
"…they've basically made it official." "…basketball guy, right?" "…no, I heard she was with someone else before."
She kept walking.
Her phone buzzed.
Liam: Morning. Did you sleep well?
She hesitated before replying.
Aria: Yeah. Heading to class.
A pause.
Liam: I'll see you later?
See you later had started to feel heavier than it should.
Aria: We'll see.
She slid her phone back into her bag, already feeling the shift. The more visible she and Liam became, the less space she seemed to have for herself.
Inside the lecture hall, Aria took her usual seat near the window. She liked having something to look at when her thoughts drifted. Today, her focus fractured easily.
She noticed the way two girls a few rows down leaned toward each other, whispering while glancing back at her. Not hostile. Just observant.
Across the aisle, a guy from her department looked at her, then quickly looked away when she met his gaze.
She exhaled slowly.
This was the cost of being seen.
When class ended, she packed her things deliberately, refusing to rush. As she stepped into the hallway, a familiar voice called her name.
"Aria."
She turned.
Chloe stood a few feet away, arms crossed loosely, posture controlled. She looked exactly the same polished, composed, eyes sharp enough to notice everything and reveal nothing.
For a moment, they just stared at each other.
It had been weeks since they'd last spoken properly. Weeks since the silence had become a language of its own.
"Hey," Aria said finally, neutral.
"Hey," Chloe replied.
They stood there, the hallway moving around them, students passing like background noise. Chloe's gaze flicked briefly to Aria's hand empty today but the look lingered longer than necessary.
"So," Chloe said. "You and Liam."
It wasn't a question.
Aria didn't flinch. "What about us?"
Chloe's lips pressed together. "Nothing. Just… noticed."
Of course she had.
Everyone had.
Aria studied her face, looking for resentment, anger, something sharp. Instead, she found restraint. Chloe was holding herself back, and it showed in the tension of her jaw.
"We're not hiding," Aria said calmly.
"I didn't say you were."
Silence again.
Chloe shifted her weight. "People are talking."
Aria gave a faint smile. "People always do."
Chloe's eyes narrowed slightly, as if she wanted to say more I miss you, maybe, or this isn't how I thought things would turn out but pride stood tall between them.
"Well," Chloe said eventually, smoothing her sleeve. "Just thought you should know."
Aria nodded. "Thanks."
Chloe hesitated. For one fleeting second, her mask slipped.
"I hope you're okay," she said quietly.
Then she turned and walked away before Aria could respond.
Aria watched her go, a familiar ache stirring in her chest. Chloe had been her constant once. Her mirror. Her anchor. Losing her hadn't been dramatic it had been slow, quiet, and painful in a way that never fully healed.
But pride had sharp edges.
And neither of them had learned how to put it down.
By lunchtime, the rumors had evolved.
They always did.
"They're basically inseparable." "I heard he gets really jealous." "No way, he seems calm." "Still… she changed."
Aria sat at a table with two classmates, nodding along to a conversation she wasn't really part of. She laughed when expected to, stirred her drink absentmindedly, her mind elsewhere.
When Liam approached, the energy shifted immediately.
He dropped into the seat beside her like he belonged there which, lately, he did. His arm brushed hers casually. Natural. Familiar.
Too familiar for watching eyes.
"Hey," he said, leaning in. "You okay?"
She smiled. "Yeah."
He studied her for a moment, then relaxed, resting his elbow on the table. "You look tired."
"I'm fine," she repeated.
Someone across from them cleared their throat awkwardly and excused themselves. Another followed soon after.
Liam noticed.
"So that's how it is now," he muttered under his breath.
Aria glanced at him. "What?"
"They leave when I show up."
She shrugged lightly. "Maybe they had places to be."
He didn't look convinced.
Later, as they walked across campus together, Liam's hand found hers instinctively. Aria didn't pull away, but she didn't tighten her grip either.
A group of students passed them, whispers trailing behind.
Liam's jaw tightened.
"You hear that?" he asked.
Aria kept her eyes forward. "Hear what?"
He stopped walking.
She turned back to him, surprised.
"They're talking about us," he said, frustration seeping into his voice. "Like we're some kind of headline."
Aria studied him carefully. This wasn't anger not yet. It was insecurity, thinly veiled.
"You can't control what people say," she said evenly.
"I know. But I don't like it."
She tilted her head. "You don't like being talked about… or you don't like what they're saying?"
He hesitated.
"That they think they know you," he said finally. "That they think they know us."
Aria felt something tighten inside her.
"This is part of being visible," she said. "If that bothers you"
"It doesn't," he interrupted quickly. "I just… don't want anyone getting the wrong idea."
"And what is the right idea?" she asked softly.
He searched her face, then exhaled. "That you're with me."
The words landed heavier than he intended.
Aria didn't respond immediately.
"I am with you," she said carefully. "But I'm still me."
He nodded, but the tension didn't fully fade.
Across the courtyard, Chloe watched them from a distance.
She hadn't meant to.
She told herself that.
But her eyes kept finding Aria anyway the way she stood, calm and self-possessed, the way she listened more than she spoke. Liam hovered close, attentive, almost protective.
Chloe's chest tightened.
She remembered late nights, shared secrets, laughter that came easy. She remembered being the one Aria leaned on.
Now, she was watching from the outside.
She told herself it didn't matter. That Aria had made her choices. That pride was easier than vulnerability.
Still, when Aria laughed softly at something Liam said, Chloe looked away.
That evening, Aria returned to her apartment alone.
She dropped her bag by the door and leaned against it, eyes closed, breathing deeply. The day replayed in fragments glances, whispers, tension, unspoken things.
She wasn't in love.
She knew that.
But she was involved. Entangled. Seen.
And being seen came with weight.
Her phone buzzed.
Liam: Did I upset you earlier?
She considered the question carefully.
Aria: No. Just thinking.
Liam: About us?
She stared at the screen for a long moment.
Aria: About everything.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Liam: I just don't want to lose you.
Her chest tightened not with fear, but with awareness.
Aria: You won't. Just don't try to hold too tightly.
There was a pause before his reply.
Liam: I hear you.
She wasn't sure he did.
Across campus, Chloe sat on her bed, phone in hand, Aria's contact name glowing on the screen.
Her thumb hovered.
She could text.
She could explain.
She could say I miss you.
Instead, she locked her phone and set it aside.
Some distances were chosen.
And some regrets waited patiently.
Aria stood by her window later that night, city lights blinking below, thinking about how quickly things shifted when emotions got involved. How easily attention turned into pressure. How love real or not always demanded something in return.
She didn't believe in love anymore.
But she believed in awareness.
And awareness, she knew, was the only thing that might save her.