Devil I Loved

A Missed Chance

Cassian's POV

I stood incredibly still, just outside the old campus greenhouse. It was my quiet spot, a place where green leaves stretched for the sky and little drops of water clung to the glass panes, reflecting the sunlight. It felt like a world away from the busy campus, a perfect place for what I was about to do.

I stared at the envelope as it trembled. Inside was a card I'd spent all night writing. It wasn’t a fancy poem or anything dramatic, just honest words. It was half a secret, a quiet telling of how I felt, and half an invitation, a shy hope that she might actually say yes to something more. It was real. It was straight from my heart.

My heart hadn't stopped its quick, unsteady hammering since the sun first peeked over the horizon this morning. Every single beat felt loud, like a tiny drum pounding right in my chest. I took a deep breath, trying to calm it down, trying to gather my courage.

A few feet away, bathed in the gentle sunlight, under a big, beautiful jacaranda tree near the old library steps, Amira laughed. Her laugh was soft, like wind chimes, and it drifted across the grass to me, light and airy. It was the sound that always made me smile, even when no one else was around.

Her blue eyes, which always looked extra bright when the sun hit them just right, were sparkling. But they weren't sparkling at me. They were locked onto someone else entirely.

Jaden Ward.

I got angry. The white envelope began to crumple softly, crinkling under my fingers as my grip tightened without me even realizing it.

My knuckles turned pale, almost white, as I watched the scene unfold before me, helpless to stop it.

I watched Amira lean in close to Jaden, her head tilted slightly, her hair shining in the light. I saw her say something, then she looked away, as if suddenly shy, scared of what Jaden might say back. My chest tightened.

“Do you maybe… want to go out with me?” Amira’s voice barely carried over the breeze, a faint whisper. “Just… see where it goes?”

It was quiet for only a second, but to me, it felt like an eternity. I heard every single crack in that terrible silence. Every second stretched, pulling at my nerves.

Then Jaden smiled. His smile was wide, confident, like he already knew the answer. Like he always got the answer he wanted.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice loud and clear, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I was hoping you’d ask."

My stomach dropped. Then he pulled Amira into a hug. I knew right then. I knew without any question, with a sudden, sinking feeling that twisted deep inside me.

I was too late.

The wind shifted again. It carried Amira’s soft voice right to where I stood frozen and rooted to the spot.

"I guess this makes it official now, huh?"

I didn't move. I didn't even blink. The weight of that moment, the crushing weight of her words, pressed hard against my chest. It felt like something slowly caving inward, deep inside me. My chance—my only chance—had vanished. Gone. Like a tiny puff of smoke, it just disappeared in what felt like ten careless seconds.

She had chosen Jaden.

And she had absolutely no idea I even existed. Not beyond quiet nods if we happened to pass in the hallway, or the shared silence of a classroom where we sat rows apart. I was just a shadow.

I don't even remember walking away. I can't recall my feet moving, one after the other. It was like my body just detached from my mind.

I only remember the feeling. The soft sound of the envelope—my hopes, my feelings, everything inside it—as it dropped into a campus trash bin. And the crushing silence inside my head, louder than any sound I had ever heard. It was deafening.

I didn't go to classes for over seven weeks after that day. I just couldn’t. Every time I thought about leaving my room, that image of them together flashed in my mind, stopping me .

For those seven whole weeks, no one knew where I was, and honestly, no one really seemed to care beyond a polite inquiry. Not Amira, obviously. Not even my friends—they had tried to reach out a few times, but I had gone completely off the grid. My phone was off, my laptop closed. I just ghosted everyone.

When my professors asked where I was, polite people from my family would just make some excuse, saying I couldn't come right now. Everyone else just thought I was tired from studying too much, or maybe had the flu, or was just having a rich-kid tantrum. Nobody knew the real reason. Nobody knew how broken I felt.

It was my mother who finally came for me.

She stood at the foot of my bed, holding a tray of untouched pastries, but I didn't care about food. A pale silk scarf trailed from her neck like wisps of smoke, moving gently in the quiet room. Her presence was calming, but I was too far gone to appreciate it then.

"You're not eating, Cassian," she said, her voice soft but firm, a clear statement, not a question.

I didn't respond. I just lay there, half-curled beneath my dark navy sheets, the blinds pulled tightly shut against the bright spring sun, keeping my room in a gloomy shadow. I wanted to disappear into the mattress.

"She chose someone else," I rasped, my voice rough, like a splinter caught in my throat. It was agonizing to speak. "He didn't even see her until she practically offered herself. I saw her first. I always did."

Mom raised one eyebrow. She carefully set the pastry tray down on my bedside table. "Then maybe she saw something in him you didn't."

My head snapped toward her, my eyes red and tired, bloodshot from weeks of not sleeping, from crying. "You're on his side?" I accused, the betrayal stinging.

"No," she said softly, her voice filled with an understanding that somehow pierced through my anger. "I'm on yours. Always. But Cassian…" She sat gently on the edge of my bed, the mattress dipping slightly. Her hands smoothed my duvet. "If the girl is meant to be yours, she will come to you—on her own terms. Not by being hunted. Not by being cornered like a frightened animal. That's not how true connection works."

I turned away from her again, burying my face deeper into the pillow, trying to escape her words. But she wasn't done. Her voice, clear and strong, cut through the silence.

"You don't win love by catching it like prey, Cassian. You become someone it can't help but notice."

That night, for the very first time in weeks, I opened my laptop. The bright screen lit up my dark room, a harsh contrast to the gloom I'd been living in.

I didn't delete the files I'd saved of Amira. The group photos where she was just one face among many, the lecture recordings where her voice was faint, barely speaking, but always, always smiling when someone asked her a question. I kept them all.

I created a new folder, adding everything I had about Amira. Then, I named it ‘Mine’.