I Confirmed Cambridge While He Was Laughing With Her Chapter 07

I Confirmed Cambridge While He Was Laughing With Her Chapter 07

Louis studied Architecture, one year above me.

The coffee he bought me was a flat white from the campus café–two pounds fifty, student

discount.

“Sorry, broke student, can’t afford fancy café drinks”

“This is perfect.”

He grinned, revealing a sharp canine tooth. He had a clean–cut look, and spoke at a steady,

unrushed pace. “You really get to the library at seven–fifty every morning?”

“More or less.”

“Can I steal the seat next to you sometimes? I can never drag myself out of bed early, but seeing

you there would motivate me.”

“Help yourself. No need to reserve seats.”

He blinked. “Reserve seats?”

“Nothing. Just an old habit from back home.”

After that, we occasionally walked to the library together, and grabbed lunch side–by–side–a quiet,

easy companionship.

He never pried into my past, and I never brought it up. Quiet, easy companionship.

On day thirty–two, Silas sent a long voice note. I didn’t open it.

He followed it up with text. “Jennifer, I tracked down your academic advisor. He told me you’re at

Cambridge. I looked up flights. It takes over ten hours to fly from the States to London. Did you fly over all alone? I know how much you hate long flights.”

He remembered my ears got sore mid–flight. Yet the day I’d needed medical help because of that

pain, he’d been out running errands and shopping for luggage with Martha.

He remembered every little thing. But when it mattered, I always came second to Martha.

Ten minutes later, another message popped up: [I’m coming to find you.]

I read those words and typed out a calm reply: [Don’t.]

This was my very first reply to him since the breakup. He replied instantly: [Jennifer! You finally

texted me back!]

[I’m begging you. Don’t come.]

[Why not?]

[We’ve broken up.]

[I never agreed to that note.]

[You don’t need to agree.]

[Jennifer, I know I messed up before, but I can change.]

[What exactly are you going to change?]

[Tell me what to fix, and I’ll fix it.]

I typed out a long paragraph, then deleted every ward.

I rewrote a short line: [Go back and look through Martha’s group chat. Check if that old poll is still

there. Then think hard about what you replied back then.]

He stopped messaging.

An hour later, Hazel sent me screenshots.

Silas had posted a statement in the class group chat: [Regarding that old poll in our group chat, I

handled it terribly. Jennifer was my girlfriend, and people publicly humiliated her. I should have

stepped in to stop it. I failed to do so. That’s entirely my fault, none of it is Jennifer’s. I owe her a

sincere public apology.]

The chat stayed dead silent for a long time.

Then Martha replied: [Silas, are you blaming me?]

He didn’t answer her. That was the first time in two years he’d left Martha’s message on read.

Hazel texted: [The whole class is blowing up.]

I stared at the screenshots without feeling moved. An apology this late wasn’t remorse–it was

damage control, regret born only after loss.

That night Louis texted me: [Library tomorrow?]

[Yep.]

[I picked something up from the grocery store for you. Figured you’d be homesick.]

The next day he handed me a bag of Jolly Rancher candies. “Hope you like them, just grabbed

them on a whim.”

Silas had never bought me snacks. When I’d craved strawberry cake once, he’d said “Too much sugar will make you gain weight.” When Martha wanted macarons, he’d ridden his bike twenty minutes across campus to buy it for her.

“Thank you.”

“No big deal, it’s just cheap candy.”

Cheap candy. What made your heart flutter was never the price tag. It was the simple fact that

someone had thought of you.