He Spoke French to Her So I Couldn’t Understand Chapter 10

He Spoke French to Her So I Couldn’t Understand Chapter 10

Winter hadn’t even arrived before Luna Price quietly left the class group chat.

Riley told me things had gotten ugly between her and Owen. After the banquet, people at schoo! started keeping their distance from Luna.

Not because she’d had feelings for someone else’s boyfriend. It was because she’d used someone’s real relationship as a stepping stool, then cried about it in public and tried to dump all the blame on

Owen.

Owen didn’t fare much better. Once his med-school cohort got wind of what went down in high school, a nickname started following him around.

The more he tried to explain, the more it sounded like a joke. Luna went to find him. He refused to

see her. She waited outside his dorm. He took a different route,

Eventually, she photographed the note and sent it to mutual friends, saying Owen was the real

expert at stringing people along.

The photo made the rounds. That line-After admission, don’t lie to me–became the proof he

couldn’t shake.

Riley summed it up cleanly, “Trash taking itself out.”

))

In December, I took part in a campus reading event. Graham was working backstage. Afterward, he handed me a small bouquet of white flowers. “Congratulations.”

I took them. “Thank you.”

Outside the auditorium, Owen was standing in the snow. He’d clearly been waiting a while. His shoulders were dusted with a thin layer of white. When he saw the flowers, his expression dimmed. “You took flowers from him?”

I adjusted the bouquet in my arms. “Yeah.”

He took a step closer. “You used to say you didn’t like getting flowers.”

I looked at his red, frozen hands. “What I said was that I didn’t like you giving me leftover flowers meant for somebody else.”

Graham stepped out of the auditorium and stopped a few paces away, not interrupting. Owen saw him and his eyes filled with something raw and jealous. “Do you like him?”

I didn’t flinch. “I like being respected.”

That landed harder than any confession.

Owen’s arm dropped slowly to his side. The necklace box hit the snow, lid open, the silver pendant disappearing into the white like it was never there.