Chapter 2: Whispers, Bruises, and Strawberry Milk

After school, Dylan, who’d bailed on all his classes, showed up at the gate.

He leaned against the fence, arms crossed, his letterman jacket zipped up like armor. The late sun made his scowl look even meaner, shadows cutting sharp across his face.

"Autumn Reese, what’s your problem?" His voice was low, but that edge was unmistakable.

He always thought he owned the place—and me. That was over.

"I don’t like you anymore. I’m done. Got it?" I stared at him. I wasn’t backing down.

I made sure to meet his eyes, not blinking. I wanted him to see I meant it. I was done being afraid.

In my past life, we were the golden couple. But after marriage, his career tanked, and the disappointment revealed his true nature—domestic violence, stalking, spreading rumors, even murder.

People always said we were perfect together. If only they knew. They didn’t see the bruises, the way he twisted every argument until I thought it was my fault. He’d charm the world, then turn cold behind closed doors. The headlines never told the whole story.

I would never forget the pain of that knife in my body. That memory was burned into me.

Even now, I sometimes woke up gasping, my hand pressed to my stomach. The memory never faded, no matter how many times I told myself it was over.

Of course, after what happened in the cafeteria, I was the center of school gossip.

It was like wildfire. It spread so fast, it was dizzying. By lunch the next day, everyone had a version. Some people whispered when I walked by; others just stared, bold as anything. I tried to ignore it, but the whispers followed me everywhere. I hated it.

"You know why Dylan’s been gone? Because Autumn hooked up with someone else. Dylan got cheated on."

I caught bits and pieces in the hallway, their voices pitched just loud enough for me to hear. They didn’t care if I was right there. It was like I was invisible, except when I wasn’t.

"Autumn and Mason Cross? No way, Mason just got out of juvie."

Someone snorted. "She’ll go for anyone, I guess."

"Mason hasn’t been around either—bet Dylan beat him up."

"Yeah, my boyfriend said he got wrecked."

Bang!

I’d had enough. I hurled my basketball at the two girls.

The ball hit the wall with a loud thud. They jumped. I didn’t even care if I got detention. Sometimes you just have to make a point.

"If you’re gonna gossip, at least keep it down."

I shot them a glare. Not even trying to hide how annoyed I was. Their faces went red, but they didn’t stop muttering.

Let them talk. I left the gym.

My sneakers squeaked on the floor as I walked out. The echo was oddly satisfying. For a second, I almost smiled.

Mason only got dragged into this because of me. I felt awful.

It gnawed at me. The way Mason got caught in the crossfire. It wasn’t fair—he never asked for any of this. I owed him, even if he didn’t know it yet.

So after school, I asked my homeroom teacher for Mason’s address. My heart pounded as I waited for her answer.

I tried to sound casual, but Mrs. Peterson raised an eyebrow. "Just want to drop off some homework," I lied. She handed it over, probably thinking I was just being helpful.

I told my driver to take off, bought some painkillers at Walgreens, and went to Mason’s place. No one was home, so I sat by the door and waited.

The apartment complex was quiet, the kind of place where every sound echoed. I sat on the cold step, fiddling with the Walgreens bag, checking my phone every few minutes. The sky turned dusky, and still—nothing.

My driver came to pick me up, but Mason still hadn’t shown. I sighed, hung the medicine on his doorknob, and left.

The bottle of pills swung gently in the evening breeze. I hesitated for a second, hoping he’d show, but then I turned and walked away, my footsteps heavy on the stairs. The hallway felt emptier than ever.