The lines between us

CHAPTER 11_ THE PACT

I didn’t plan to confront Aaron.

But avoidance is a trap, and sometimes curiosity drags you straight into the dark.

I found him sitting on the steps outside the engineering block, sleeves rolled up, notebook abandoned beside him. He looked calm, too calm, like he’d been expecting me.

“You came,” he said quietly.

“I need answers,” I admitted, my chest tight, hands trembling.

He didn’t look at me immediately. “About Isa, I assume.”

I nodded. “Yes. And… about you.”

Aaron let out a short, bitter laugh. “You think this is about me? It’s always about her.”

I frowned, heart pounding. “Then tell me.”

He exhaled slowly. “Isa and I… we’ve known each other since childhood. Our families are close. Wealthy. Privileged. Boarding schools, private parties… she’s been playing this game far longer than you’ve been alive. And I’ve been part of it.”

I blinked. “Part of it?”

“Yes,” he said, voice low. “High school. There was a girl—obsessed with Isa. Completely. Isa… didn’t care. Not really. But she let us… guide her. Shape her. Both of us. Physically, emotionally, everything. She thought she was in control. She wasn’t. Not for a second.”

My stomach twisted. Nausea rose like bile.

Aaron’s eyes met mine, steady, unflinching. “That’s what you need to understand. Isa isn’t a victim. She’s precise. She’s calculating. And since first year, she’s been applying the same… lessons. To you.”

I felt my chest tighten, my fingers curling around the concrete edge. “You mean… she’s… using me?”

“Yes,” Aaron said quietly. “Just like before. Only now… I want you too. And she wants you. Neither of us plans to share.”

I sank onto the steps. Disgust and horror clawed at me. The library, the dorm, every brush of her hand, every deliberate glance—they weren’t affection. They were strategy. s****l. Emotional. Manipulation.

“She’s been training for this,” Aaron said. “And I’ve been… helping. But I’m tired.” His jaw tightened. “Tired of the games, the waiting, the pretending. I just want you.”

I looked at him, stomach turning. Disgust, mostly at Isa, but at Aaron too. How could anyone be so deliberate, so cold? How could I even consider… feeling anything for him after all this?

Aaron leaned back, calm but weary. “You don’t have to want me,” he said. “You don’t have to want Isa either. But you need to understand—you’re already part of the game. And you can’t leave yet.”

I swallowed hard. My chest ached with revulsion. I wanted nothing to do with them—Isa, Aaron, this entire twisted, suffocating web. But deep down, I knew they weren’t going to let me go. Not Isa. Not Aaron. Not until they’d had what they wanted.

And the worst part? I knew they both already had.