I Haunted His Dreams After He Dumped Me For My Roommate Chapter 02

I Haunted His Dreams After He Dumped Me For My Roommate Chapter 02

In the dream, floor-to-ceiling windows faced a rainy neon night.

We were inside a downtown duplex penthouse—somewhere I could never afford in a million years.

When Ethan and I were together, I only came here once.

I stood at the edge of the entryway. He never let me come further inside.

“Someday,” he said.

I kept waiting for that someday.

Later I understood: he’d only bring home a girl he truly loved. That girl simply wasn’t me.

Now, his hand pressed against my waist, stopping me from rolling away.

The day after he dumped me, I’d realized I could walk into his dreams.

Inside them, he could never see my face clearly, and I couldn’t speak.

The System told him I was someone in real life who had liked him for years.

But it would never tell who I really was.

We were forced to complete challenges together.

At first, he was cold and restrained. Then he spiraled into pure obsession.

Like right now—his fingers closed around my wrist, keeping me from pulling away.

“Don’t pull away. Please.”

He leaned closer. “Who are you?”

I turned my face away, refusing to look.

If he knew who I really was, he wouldn’t be clinging to me like this.

After we met in person, I learned Ethan wasn’t just an Ivy League student—he was stunning.

But he was clearly disappointed by my looks.

No matching profile pics. No photos of me posted anywhere.

Once, he finally agreed to let me meet his friends—and only because I begged.

I spent forever on my makeup.

But the moment his circle of trust-fund friends saw me, they traded these knowing glances—oh, this is it?

“Which college?” someone asked.

I named a random state school.

The guy went, “Oh,” clearly never having heard of it, and added, “Well, that’s… nice.”

Then he asked, “Are you from Boston?”

I said no.

He said, “Yeah, doesn’t sound like it.”

He didn’t ask where I was actually from. No one else talked to me after that.

Everyone offered this delicate, distant politeness—the quiet assumption that Ethan was just settling temporarily, so they didn’t need to bother getting to know me.

That night Ethan said nothing. He just watched me from across the room.

But I truly liked him.

I wanted to tell him I was trying to close the gap between us. I was applying to grad schools overseas. Maybe we could go together. Could he just wait for me? Not act like I embarrassed him?

All those words died in my throat as he walked me back to campus after dinner.

He was always a step ahead. He never once looked back.

Outside my dorm, we ran into Vera.

Her eyes stayed on Ethan’s face a beat too long.

Vera was strikingly gorgeous.

If she’d been the one meeting his friends tonight, would they have looked at her the same way? I tried to stop comparing.

After she walked away, Ethan suddenly asked, “Is she that ‘annoying roommate’ you told me about?”

His tone was casual.

I’d never shown him what Vera looked like. Now he’d seen.

Ethan said flatly, “She doesn’t seem as bad as you said.”

Every ounce of frustration I’d swallowed the whole night exploded.

“Can you just be on my side for once?”

He gave a soft laugh, looking at me like I didn’t matter. “If you need me to lie to make you feel better, I can.”

I didn’t want to fight about Vera. But the second I shoved it down, my nose burned.

He pinched my cheek, half-joking. “See? You asked, and now you’re mad.”

“She does attract me.”

“If I’d met her before you, maybe you wouldn’t even be in the picture.”

Back then I thought—what if I could make him feel insecure for once? I stopped texting. I wanted to go cold so he’d feel it too.

But he didn’t care. He wouldn’t chase. He’d just dump me.

Inside the dream, he yanked me out of my memory.

He drew me into his arms and refused to let go.

He lowered his head, lingering close to me.

I kicked him. He didn’t get mad.

So this was what it felt like when he wanted someone with this kind of intensity.

No matter how much I shoved, he stuck right back.

He was so captivated that he let out a breath of helpless frustration. “Why won’t you tell me who you are?”

“Please, baby. Just tell me who you are.”

“If you won’t talk, I’ll go school by school until I find you.”

His voice was low and addicting, the last syllable wrapping around me like silk.

I’d never planned on telling him.

Returning to his dreams was my way of surviving the emptiness after the breakup.

The thought of someone like him finding out I’d played him—what would his face look like? Just imagining it sent a shiver down my spine.

He must’ve thought his possessiveness scared me, because he murmured, soothing, “Shh. I think I know who you are.”

He remembered little details about me—the shampoo I used, even the tiny mole on my wrist.

And Vera had those exact same things.

She loved buying the same shampoo as me. Even the mole on her wrist matched mine.

Ethan’s voice held a smile, completely sure.

“You’re Vera Price.”

I turned my face away, letting him draw close beside me.

From the day he first saw Vera, Ethan noticed every detail about her.

But he’d barely ever cared what shampoo I used.

I said nothing.

I simply looped my arms around Ethan’s neck.

Meeting his expectant gaze, I nodded.