The Ru Effect

Chapter thirty three

It’s been two weeks since my last exam and now I'm going home for the holidays tomorrow.
The library feels like a second home, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of packing for the holidays.

As I wander through the familiar aisles, my fingers brush against the spines of the books in the literature section, each one a promise of escape.

The scent of aged paper mingles with the faint aroma of coffee from the café corner, grounding me as I read the blurbs, searching for a story that might distract me from my swirling thoughts.

The truth is, I’m tired—tired of the unending cycle of hope and disappointment.

I thought maybe River would reach out, but two weeks have passed, and I’m still waiting, nursing the hurt like an old wound.

I push the thought away, focusing on the soft rustle of pages turning around me, the quiet murmurs of fellow students lost in their own worlds.

I've met Ethan during the last two weeks though.  We’ve crossed paths a couple of times, and I can’t deny the relief I feel seeing him again, looking healthy and happy.

He’s surprisingly gracious about our past, and our conversations have been light, filled with laughter that makes me forget the heaviness in my chest.

He even told  me not to wait around for any guy cause Sam just couldn't keep my secret of rejection to herself. His kindness is a balm, but it doesn’t erase the lingering ache for someone else.

Just as I’m about to lose myself in another book, my phone buzzes, vibrating against the wooden table. I glance at the screen, my heart skipping a beat when I see the name.

River: I really need to talk to you.
River: Please meet me at the park next to Sunset and Sound.

A rush of emotions floods through me, but I quickly suppress the urge to get my hopes up. I can't allow myself to think this is anything more than a simple conversation. With a deep breath, I reply, keeping my response casual.

Okay.

The word hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken questions and fears.

I can already feel my heart racing, a mix of excitement and dread intertwining in my chest. What could River want to talk about? Is he finally ready to explain the silence, to bridge the distance that has grown between us?

As I gather my things, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a nearby window. My braids, pulled into a messy bun, and the oversized shirt I wear is comforting but fail to conceal the anxious flutter in my stomach.

I head towards the exit, the library’s quiet hum fading into the background, replaced by the rush of thoughts echoing in my mind.

I step outside, and the crisp air fills my lungs, invigorating and sharp. The sky is a soft shade of blue, tinged with the golden hues of the setting sun.

Each step toward the park feels heavier, as if I’m walking against an invisible current.

When I arrive, I pause for a moment, taking in the sprawling greenery of the park. The leaves rustle softly in the breeze, a gentle reminder of the change in seasons.

As I scan the area, my heart races at the thought of seeing him again. I try to remind myself that this meeting might not lead to the resolution I crave, but the anticipation is almost unbearable.

I finally spot him leaning against a tree, his silhouette familiar yet somehow distant. My heart skips a beat, and I fight the urge to turn and run, torn between wanting to hold onto my expectations and the fear of being disappointed once more.