Love me after him

Chapter 3

Fiona had never been one for casual connections. She either felt too much or not at all.

So when she met Jared again—two days after their rainy bookstore moment—her chest thrummed with anticipation. They’d agreed to grab coffee at a little off-campus café with mismatched chairs and vinyl records for wall art. The kind of place that felt like it didn’t belong in the world, which made Fiona like it even more.

Jared was already there when she arrived, leaning over a book with his headphones in. He looked up and smiled as soon as he saw her.

“Thought I was early,” she said, tugging off her hoodie.

“You were. I was just earlier.”

He stood as she sat down, offering her a warm grin that made something flutter low in her stomach. This was different from Jason. Jason had always felt like a daydream she could never quite hold onto. Jared felt real—like air she didn’t realize she needed until she started breathing him in.

They ordered drinks—black coffee for him, chai latte for her—and the conversation came easy. It wasn’t forced, not dipped in the awkward silences she was used to. He asked her questions like they mattered. Listened. Not just to respond—but to understand.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a while. “But not shy. You’ve got that ‘observe everything’ energy.”

Fiona smiled, a little startled by how accurate that was. “I guess I do.”

He leaned back, arms crossed. “People like you notice things the rest of us miss. That’s powerful.”

Jason never said anything like that.

The thought came out of nowhere, uninvited—but it lingered. Jason never saw her. Not like this. Not like someone who had something to say. Only as the quiet girl who sat at the back of the class and wrote in her notebook.

“You ever write about him?” Jared asked softly.

Fiona blinked. “Who?”

He raised an eyebrow. “My brother.”

She froze. Her fingers curled around her cup.

“…Yeah,” she admitted. “A lot, actually.”

Jared didn’t flinch. Didn’t get uncomfortable. He just nodded, looking away for a second like he was letting it settle.

“I always knew you liked him,” he said. “Pretty sure he knew too.”

That stung. Not because it was wrong—but because it was right. Jason had known. He just didn’t care.

“And now?” Jared asked, voice gentler this time. “Do you still write about him?”

Fiona hesitated. “Not lately.”

There was a pause between them, heavy but not painful. He didn’t press her. And she appreciated that more than he knew.

“Look,” Jared said after a moment, leaning forward, “I’m not him. I don’t play games. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t notice how beautiful you looked the first day I saw you. Or how easy it is to talk to you. But I also know I’m his brother. And that… might be complicated for you.”

Her heart thudded against her ribs.

He was offering her an exit. A chance to say she wasn’t ready. That it was too much. That the wound Jason left hadn’t quite scarred yet.

But she didn’t take it.

“I think I’m tired of pretending,” she said. “Tired of waiting for someone to see me. You do. That means something.”

Jared smiled. Not the kind of smile that tried to win her over—but the kind that said, I’m glad you’re here.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of conversation and low laughter. When they left the café, he walked her to her dorm like it was the most natural thing in the world. And when they stopped at her steps, he didn’t lean in for a kiss. He just looked at her like he could.

And she kind of wished he would.

Instead, he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and said, “I’d like to see you again.”

“You will,” she replied.

And for the first time in years, Fiona went to bed not thinking about Jason.

But she didn’t know the past was already circling back.

Because somewhere in the city, Jason had just seen a photo on Jared’s phone—of Fiona, laughing at something he’d said.

And Jason wasn’t smiling.

Not at all.