Lose Me Again

Between the Shadows

Chapter Eight

Between the Shadows

(Andy’s POV)

The early morning chill bit at my face as I leaned against one of the stone columns outside the university library. My eyes scanned the quad, taking in the usual bustle of students heading to class, chattering about assignments, weekend plans, and the routine grind of college life. I never cared much for any of it—the routine, the mindless conversations. But today, my attention was locked on one person in particular.

Esha.

She was walking across the quad with her usual group—Cassandra, Sophie, Maya, and Trisha. A slight smile tugged at her lips as she laughed at something Cassandra had said. Her dark hair flowed behind her, and she moved with that quiet confidence that had caught my attention from the very beginning. She was different—more guarded, more serious, but still somehow vibrant. Esha was fiercely independent, a trait I both admired and resented at the same time. There was something about her that tugged at me, something that made it hard to look away. Even though every conversation we had seemed to end in an argument, she kept pulling me back.

She intrigued me.

It wasn’t like me to get distracted. I wasn’t the type to get lost in my thoughts over a girl, but Esha wasn’t just any girl. She got under my skin in a way no one else ever had. From the moment we’d met, there had been this strange tension between us—something electric and unpredictable. Every interaction seemed to end in a fight, and yet, no matter how much we argued, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

My eyes narrowed as I watched her. She was good at hiding behind her walls—sarcasm, a tough exterior—but I could see through it. There was pain behind those dark eyes, a kind of sadness she rarely let anyone glimpse. I remembered the moment a few weeks ago when she’d let something slip, when she’d told me, in a rare moment of vulnerability, about her mother’s death when she and her sister were still young. About how her father had buried himself in work, leaving her and Amara to fend for themselves emotionally.

That’s why she was so fiercely independent, why she refused to rely on anyone. Esha had spent years trying to get her father to notice her, to care, but eventually, she’d given up. Now, she was determined to live life on her own terms, without leaning on anyone.

It’s like looking in a mirror, I thought, the familiar pang of recognition hitting me in the gut. I knew what it was like to feel abandoned, to be left to deal with your pain on your own. My own family was a mess, a constant source of frustration and anger that I couldn’t seem to escape from.

I knew all about putting on a mask, about hiding pain. My own life was a wreck—my parents living in the same house, pretending to be a happy family while my father had a mistress on the side. And not just any mistress, but my mother’s sister. It was the kind of twisted family secret that ruins lives, and I’d watched as it slowly tore us apart.

My mother had tried to pretend everything was fine. For the sake of appearances, for the sake of me and my brothers, Jay and Vick. But I’d always known. I’d known about the affair, about the other child—my half-brother—who was a constant reminder of the betrayal. And the worst part? My mother still loved my father. She couldn’t bring herself to leave, to confront the truth, so she just… ignored it. She focused on raising us, making sure we had a “normal” life, even though nothing about our lives had ever been normal.

I couldn’t wait to finish college and start working with Jay, my older brother, to finally be free of all the pretense. Jay was the person I respected most. He was strong, steady, the one person I could always count on. But Jay had sacrificed so much to hold the family together, and that weighed on me. I didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to add to his stress. Jay never complained, but I saw the weight he carried—the pressure of holding everything together when our parents couldn’t. I wanted to help him, to be strong like him, but first, I had to survive these last few years of college.

And yet, despite all the chaos in my own life, despite the fractured mess of my family, I found myself thinking about Esha more than I cared to admit. There was something about her I couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful—though she was, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed. It was more than that. It was the way she carried herself, the way she kept going even though I knew she was dealing with her own pain.

How does she do it? I wondered, my gaze following her as she crossed the quad. How does she keep smiling after everything she’s been through?

I hated that I was so drawn to her. It made me angry—angry at myself, angry at her for getting under my skin. Every time we argued, it was like a release, a way to channel all the conflicting emotions I felt around her. The anger, the frustration, the attraction—it all got tangled up in the bickering, and afterward, I felt just as confused as before.

I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets and leaned back against the column, watching her from a distance. I hated that she had this effect on me. I wasn’t supposed to care. I was supposed to keep things casual, keep people at arm’s length. But Esha had a way of breaking through, of making me feel things I didn’t want to feel.

The last few weeks had been torture. We hadn’t spoken much since our last argument in the library, and that had left me with too much time to think. Too much time to wonder why I couldn’t just move on, why I couldn’t shake this strange pull toward her. Every time I saw her, it was like something tugged at me, something I couldn’t control. And it pissed me off.

Why her? I thought bitterly. Why does it always have to be her?

As if on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out and saw a message from Cecily.

Cecily: Are you coming to Nick’s party tonight? Should be fun! We can hang out?

I groaned internally. Cecily. She’d been around for a while now, always flirting, always trying to get close to me. At first, it had been fun—light, easy, no strings attached. But lately, Cecily had been getting more serious, clingier, and I wasn’t interested in that. I didn’t want anything serious. Not with her. Not with anyone.

But I also didn’t want to be a complete jerk. I typed out a quick response.

Andy: Not sure. Might swing by later.

“Yo, Andy,” a voice called out as I hit send.

I turned to see Liam, one of my friends, approaching with a couple of other guys from our usual group. He gave me a lazy grin, clearly amused by something.

“Been standing here for a while,” Liam said, glancing in the direction I’d been staring. “You look like you’re deep in thought, mate. What’s up?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Nothing. Just people-watching.”

“People-watching, huh?” Liam smirked knowingly. “Or watching a certain someone?”

I shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

Liam laughed, clapping me on the back. “I’m just saying, you’ve been on edge lately. Figured maybe it had something to do with her.”

I glanced over at Esha again. She was sitting on a bench with Cassandra, Sophie, and Maya now, her head bent over something on her phone, a small smile playing on her lips. It made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t like.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I muttered, my voice clipped.

Liam raised an eyebrow but dropped the subject. “Sure, whatever you say.”

As Esha and her friends got up and started walking toward the lecture hall, I stayed where I was, watching her go. I could feel the pull again, that invisible force drawing me toward her, even when I knew I should stay away.

You’re an i***t, I told myself. Just let it go. She’s not interested.

But even as I stood there, rooted in place, I knew the truth: letting her go wasn’t that simple.

And that’s what scared me the most.