CHAPTER 126: G A V I N

Suzy had barely moved since she returned home yesterday.

It’s been around 24 hours since the alteration with her family. And then... Gavin.

The idiot who ran away from her and left her stranded in the clinic. Well, he hadn’t exactly ran. He just called her a lunatic and told her to find her way home.

Maybe he was just shy because she found out he liked her and she had been too direct for him?

She had had to ask the clinic to call Block B to pick her up. The embarrassment. Thankfully, it had been Wilson who came. She said no words to him and he thankfully said none to her as he drove them back home and then she shut herself inside her room.

Her bedspread, once neatly folded, was now rumpled and wrinkled, matching the mess of her hair. She was curled against the headboard, legs folded beneath her, one hand lazily turning the corner of a book she wasn’t reading. Her eyes stared at nothing in particular, her mind elsewhere.

The knock on her door was soft at first. Then a bit firmer.

"Suzy?"

No response.

The latch clicked, and Wilson stepped inside. He paused at the doorway. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and his stance was hesitant, as though the room itself could reject him. He glanced around like he wasn’t sure if she’d allow him to stay.

"You in the middle of something?" he asked.

Her eyes remained glued to the blank page of the book. "No."

Wilson hesitated, then stepped closer, closing the door and pulling a small basket from behind his back. It contained an assortment of fruits. Apples, pears, a couple of strawberries carefully wrapped in a tissue. He placed it gently on her bedside table.

"Fruit," he said softly. "Thought you might want some."

She glanced at it briefly, expression unreadable, then picked up an apple and rolled it lazily in her hand.

"Wash your hand first..." he started to say but when she suddenly dropped the apple back, he shut his mouth, realizing it wasn’t the right time to be mister cleaner.

She started scrolling through the pages of the book.

"I... I wanted to ask about the gallery opening soon," Wilson began carefully, as if speaking too loudly would shatter something delicate. "Hoovers. My works are on display, along with some others. Thought... maybe you might want to come."

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t smile. "Not really," she said flatly, eyes back on the page.

He gave a small, patient nod. "Okay... I’ll skip the small talk, then."

Her gaze lifted slightly, suspicious. "Then why are you here?"

Wilson exhaled. "I... tried to find out exactly what happened between you and... Derren."

Her hand froze on the page, a faint tremor betraying the controlled calm she’d been projecting.

"I found out he’s in the hospital," he continued, voice careful, testing. "Badly hurt. Haven’t gotten all the details yet, but... yeah."

The room fell into silence.

"You’re not going to say anything?" he asked finally, the words gentle.

"There’s nothing to say," she replied quietly, voice brittle, detached.

"You know you can talk to me, right?"

She met his eyes slowly, tired and unblinking, as if weighing the sincerity of the offer and dismissing it before it could reach her. "I’m fine."

Wilson studied her a long moment, then lowered himself to the edge of her bed. Their knees nearly touched. "What about a trip? Just somewhere... nice. Change of scenery."

Her snort of disbelief made him smile faintly. "As if you’d leave your precious paintings for a trip," she muttered.

"I would," he said with certainty, his eyes steady on hers. "If it meant you’d be happy."

"I am happy," she said flatly.

"No, you’re not," he said, voice low but firm, carrying the weight of certainty. "So what? Shopping? Dinner? Something you’ve been wanting to do? Or... what about the person you’ve got a crush on?"

Her head tilted slightly, the first sign of alertness in her eyes all morning. "What about them?"

"Maybe you could bring them along. Spend some time together. Talk. Laugh. Do whatever people in love do."

She stared at him for a beat, then slowly raised a brow, incredulous. "You’re asking me to go on a trip with a man? Do you want our parents to kill me?"

He smirked faintly, unmoved by her reaction. "I’m just saying... if it’d make you smile and be happy, maybe it’s worth the risk."

She looked away, fingers toying with the torn corner of the book. "I don’t need a trip. Or... whatever this is."

Her voice had softened, just enough for him to notice. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Wilson leaned back slightly, watching her. "If you told them you have someone in mind, maybe they’d stop shoving you into those blind dates. You could date in peace."

"Why do you always talk like you’re out of touch with reality?" she asked, voice even, almost bored. Her fingers fiddled at the seam of her sleeve. "Claire is here, isn’t she? Out there with mother for a morning jog. Didn’t you make it obvious enough you’re not interested? Yet she keeps coming. Thanks to mother..."

"I made it clear." Wilson cut in. "If I had someone I actually liked, I’d make that clear too."

She snorted. "Pipe dream" she says simply.

"Suzy... ignore me. You know I can really do stuff for you."

His gaze was fully fixed on her, locking eyes. "Tell me about this person. Maybe I can help."

Her gaze slid to the basket of fruit, then back to him. "If you knew, you’d call me crazy."

His brow lifted. "Why would I say that? There’s no one who doesn’t deserve to be loved," he said firmly. "Even if he came from nothing. What’s the big deal?"

She weighed his words silently, eyes narrowing slightly, then finally, carefully, sat up straighter and fixed him with a look that demanded respect.

"You have to swear you won’t tell anyone," she said. "And you can’t think I’m crazy. I am only telling you because I want to get it off my chest..."

Wilson raised a brow. "What? You suddenly a lesbian or something?"

"What?" she blinked, incredulous.

"Is that why you’re so guarded?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. Although, honestly? I’d prefer to be one right now. Would save me the headache of this guy stressing me out."

He blinked at her, clearly confused, but before he could push further, she glanced around the room and toward the door, then back at him.

"I’m not saying the name out loud. Walls have ears."

She pulled out her phone, typed quickly, and turned the screen to him. One word blazed in capital letters:

G A V I N

"Gavin?" he read aloud without thinking.

Her eyes went wide. "Seriously?" she mouthed, like he had just announced something catastrophic over a loudspeaker.

"Who’s that?" he asked, brow furrowed.

She just raised one brow higher. The look stayed fixed as he seemed to run the name through every dusty file in his head. Then, like a switch flipping, something clicked.

"You... you’re not by chance referring to—" He stopped himself, shaking his head with a dry laugh, as if the thought was too ridiculous.

But her unblinking stare didn’t budge.

"BLOCK C?!" he finally exclaimed.

She winced at the volume.

"Are you insane?!" Her frown was immediate. "You weren’t supposed to call me insane."

"It wasn’t an insult," he said quickly. "Just... a question. Because only a lunatic would think about falling in love with someone like—"

"Hey! I’m not in love!" she cut in sharply. "Can’t say the same for him, though. He’s been following me around and denying it. Besides, what’s so wrong with liking him? He’s saved me a couple of times. He’s hot. And I... I want to make out with him—"

"SUZY!" His horror made her bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

She sank back into the pillows, watching him fume. Slowly, reluctantly, the tension began to ease. Her shoulders shifted, lighter than they had since yesterday.

For the first time, she let herself relax a fraction. She picked a strawberry and threw it in her mouth as she leaned back against the pillows.

He was still looking at her like he wasn’t sure what had possessed her.

Then, the sudden click of a door handle interrupted the moment. Claire peeked into the room, all cheer and sunlight.

"There’s my two favorite people in the world!" she chirped, stepping in, oblivious to the stormy confessions that had just passed.

Suzy was suddenly annoyed once again.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?"

Claire simply rolled her eyes. In the same fashion she always did since they were kids.

"So dramatic." Then her gaze turned to Wilson.

"Heard you were in here, boo boo."

Now, it was Wilson’s turn to be offended.

He turned to Suzy as he stood up, ready to leave this scene.

His gaze was clear... they had to talk about this madness again.