Chapter 6: Denial
Lucy's vision blurred. For a split second, the world tilted beneath her feet. She reached out instinctively, her hand brushing against the wall to steady herself.
Jack noticed immediately. He stepped forward. "Lucy—" "I'm fine," she cut in quickly. Too quickly. She straightened up, forcing her posture back into place, as if nothing had happened.
But her heart was racing. And not just from the dizziness. Jack's eyes narrowed slightly, studying her. "You don't look fine." "I said I am."
Her tone was sharper now—defensive. Guarded.
Because the last thing she needed right now… was him getting closer.
Not after last night.
Not after what they both said this morning. Jack didn't move. Didn't argue. But he didn't look convinced either. Lucy dropped her hand from the wall and walked past him.
"I probably just stood up too fast," she added casually. "It's nothing." Jack turned slightly, watching her. "You should rest." Lucy paused for a brief second. Then kept walking. "I said I'm fine."
The rest of the day, Lucy avoided him. Not intentionally. At least… that's what she told herself. But every time she heard his footsteps, she changed direction.
Every time she thought he might be nearby, she stayed in her room. It was easier that way. Safer.
Because facing him meant facing what happened. And she wasn't ready for that.
But avoiding him didn't stop her thoughts. It didn't stop the memories. It didn't stop the way her body reacted when she remembered his touch.
Lucy groaned, dropping onto her bed.
"This is ridiculous." she covered her face with her hands. "It didn't mean anything," she muttered.
He said it.
She said it.
So why didn't it feel true?
Later that evening, Lucy stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at a glass of water in her hand. She wasn't even thirsty. She just needed something to do. Something to distract herself.
But even that wasn't working. Her thoughts kept drifting back to him. To the way his voice sounded when he said her name. To the way he looked at her—
Lucy shut her eyes tightly. "Stop it."
She took a deep breath. She needed to get herself together. This was exactly how things got messy. And she refused to let that happen.
"You are avoiding me." Lucy froze. Slowly she turned around. Jack stood at the entrance of the kitchen. Of course he did. She forced a neutral expression. "I'm not."
Jack raised a brow slightly. "You've changed your routine three times today." Lucy blinked.
"You've been keeping track?"
"I observe," he replied simply. She let out a soft scoff.
"That's not creepy at all." Jack ignored the comment and stepped closer. Not too close.
But enough to make her aware of him.
"You didn't answer me," he said. Lucy crossed her arms.
"I'm not avoiding you." Jack held her gaze.
"Then look at me." Her breath caught. Because she wasn't. Not fully. Not the way she used to.
Lucy forced herself to meet his eyes.
"There," she said. "Happy?" Jack studied her face.
Too closely.
Too carefully.
And Lucy hated that it made her nervous.
"You are different," he said. Her heart skipped.
"I'm not."
"You are." Lucy shook her head. "You're imagining things." Jack stepped closer. Closing the distance just a little more. "This is what you do," he said quietly.
Her brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"
"You deny things." The word hit deeper than she expected. "I'm not denying anything," she argued. Jack tilted his head slightly.
"Then say it."
Lucy frowned. "Say what?" "That last night didn't affect you,"
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Lucy's throat went dry. "It didn't," she said. But her voice wasn't as steady as she wanted it to be. Jack noticed.
Of course he did. "And the dizziness?" he added.
Lucy stiffened. "That was nothing."
"Or you are ignoring it." Her eyes narrowed.
"Why do you care?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.
And the moment it did— Everything paused.
Because that question carried more weight than she intended. Jack didn't answer immediately. His gaze didn't leave hers. "I don't," he said finally.
The answer was calm. Controlled. But something about it felt… incomplete
Lucy let out a small breath. "Good," she said.
"Because I don't either."
Lie.
Both of them knew it. Neither of them said it.
The silence stretched again. But this time, it felt different. Less tense. More… fragile.
"You should eat," Jack said after a moment.
Lucy blinked. The topic shift caught her off guard. "I'm not hungry."
"You haven't eaten properly today." she frowned.
"How would you know that?"
"I notice things." Lucy looked away. "That's not your problem." Jack's voice dropped slightly.
"It is when it affects you." Her chest tightened again.
"There you go again," she said softly. "What?"
"Acting as you care." Jack didn't respond. And that silence said more than words.
Lucy shook her head.
"This is exactly why I'm keeping my distance," she said. Jack's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Distance won't change what happened,"
"It will stop it from happening again," "will it?"
Lucy looked at him. And for a moment—
She wasn't sure. Her heart started racing again.
That same pull. That same tension. It was still there. Stronger now. More dangerous.
"I'm going to my room," she said quickly. Jack didn't stop her. But his voice followed her.
"Lucy." she paused. Didn't turn.
"Denial doesn't erase reality," he said.
Her fingers tightened slightly at her side.
Then—
She walked away.
That night, Lucy stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection. She looked pale.
Tired.
Different.
Her hand slowly moved to her stomach. She didn't know why. It was instinct. Nothing more.
Right? She frowned slightly. "That's weird…"
Then she shook her head. "I'm overthinking."
It had to be. Everything felt overwhelming.
Confusing.
Too much.
She turned off the light and walked back into her room. But something didn't sit right. That dizziness earlier…
The way she felt… The way her body reacted…
Lucy sat down slowly on the bed. A strange feeling settled in her chest.
Not fear.
Not yet.
But something close to it.
Lucy's eyes widened slightly as a thought crossed her mind—
A possibility she hadn't considered before.
"…No," she whispered. But for the first time—
She wasn't sure.