He Spoke French to Her So I Couldn’t Understand Chapter 04

He Spoke French to Her So I Couldn’t Understand Chapter 04

The next morning, the whole class gathered in the hotel lobby to head home.

Somebody had pushed my suitcase into a corner. Owen’s hoodie was still hanging from the handle. He’d never come back for it. At six a.m., he’d texted me, asking me to pack up his ID and charger. Like nothing had happened.

I put his things in a bag and left it at the front desk.

Owen came downstairs with Luna at his side. Her ankle was wrapped in a bandage, but she was walking a lot better than the night before. When he saw the bag on the counter, his face tightened. “You just left it there?”

I said, “Returning it.”

He reached for my hand. “Don’t do this in public. We’ll talk when we get home.”

His fingers closed around my wrist, and I caught the familiar mint scent on his sleeve. The same mint from the tin in my bag. He’d taken it last night.

Luna cleared her throat. “Owen, the bus is here.”

He let go of me fast. Like he was afraid someone would see.

People were drifting toward us. Somebody asked, “Owen, you and Sienna fighting?”

He didn’t answer. Luna whispered, “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about my ankle. Now Sienna’s upset because of me.”

The second she said it, every pair of eyes swung to me. A few people muttered.

“Come on, Sienna. Luna got hurt. Don’t be so intense.”

“Right? It’s not weird for Owen to help out a classmate.”

“Don’t let your relationship drama kill the vibe.”

These were the same people who’d borrowed my charger yesterday, who’d asked me to save their spot in line, who’d eaten the snacks I bought. Now they all stood on Luna’s side, patting themselves on the back for being so understanding.

Owen’s jaw tightened. He moved closer and dropped his voice. “Sienna, just apologize. Then this is over.”

The A/C in the lobby was blasting against the back of my neck. I asked, “Apologize to who?”

His brows pressed down. “Luna.”

Luna shook her head quickly. “No, no, really, don’t. Sienna just cares about you too much.”

Owen glanced at her and his voice went harder. “She’s just spoiled. That one’s on me.”

Spoiled.

Senior year, I got up at five every morning to bring him breakfast because his stomach ached if he drank coffee on an empty stomach.

At the talent show sophomore year, he froze onstage and kids started heckling him, so I stood in the crowd holding up a sign and sang every single lyric with him until he got through the song.

The week his mom was in the ICU, he was running himself ragged between school and the hospital, so I kept his notes straight, ran his stuff to the office, and made sure every worksheet he missed got done.

And now all of it meant I’d been spoiled.

The tour guide was rushing everyone. Owen wheeled my suitcase toward me in front of the whole lobby. “No apology, get on the bus by yourself.”

The wheels slammed into my ankle. The pain shot upward, but I didn’t bend down.

Luna said something in French, the language they were so sure I couldn’t understand. “She looks like she’s about to cry.”

Owen answered in the same tongue. “She’ll get over it.”

Luna laughed. “Not even a little sorry?”

Owen was quiet for two full seconds. “She needs to learn to be less dramatic.”

That word, dramatic, was the last knife.

I pulled his hoodie off the luggage handle. A folded note slipped out of the pocket. Luna’s handwriting. [After admission, don’t lie to me.]

Owen’s face went white. He lunged for it. I caught the note first and pressed it flat against his palm.

“You don’t have to wait for the acceptances.”

He stared at me. “What are you saying?”

The lobby was full of noise, the tour guide waving her flag for the final call. I pushed my suitcase toward Riley and reached up to unclasp the necklace at my throat.

The silver pendant was an eighteenth-birthday gift from Owen. He’d told me he saved for three months. It wasn’t expensive, he’d said, but he wanted me to wear it forever.

The clasp snagged in my hair and tugged sharp against my scalp. Owen’s hand came up on instinct. “Don’t take it off.”

I looked at him and said the words one at a time. “Owen, we’re done.”