Chapter 1: The Night Lucas Vanished

I kept it from everyone and secretly dated Julian Carter’s other self for two years.

Back then, it felt like living in a world only the two of us understood. Our secret was tucked away—late-night texts, hidden glances across the cafeteria. God, we were careful. No one ever guessed. Sometimes, I’d catch myself grinning at nothing, that kind of dopey smile you have to swallow quick if anyone’s watching. That hush—the thrill and the ache of it—colored everything we did.

After the SATs, he told me he was moving out of the country.

He just dropped it, out of nowhere, like it was nothing. I remember the words hanging in the air, like a storm that hadn’t broken yet. The way he said it—so casual, like he was talking about a summer trip and not something that would split my world in half.

But it wasn’t true. He lied. He wasn’t leaving at all—Julian had started therapy, and that meant Lucas was about to vanish.

That kind of lie—one meant to spare someone pain—still cuts, maybe deeper than the truth ever could. I guess I should’ve seen it coming. I didn’t realize it then, but part of me already knew the real reason. Sometimes, you can feel the ground shifting under your feet before you see the cracks.

He said he could give me a birthday present and asked what I wanted.

I could tell he wanted it to mean something, to give me more than just a memory. There was a nervous energy in his voice, the kind that makes your heart skip for a second.

I thought for a moment. “Then give yourself to me.”

I said it quietly, almost afraid the words would shatter if I spoke too loud. I watched him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. But he just nodded, and the room seemed to shrink around us.

It was our first time for both of us. I guess that made it fair.

We fumbled through it, both of us trembling and unsure, but there was a kind of tenderness in the awkwardness. It felt like standing at the edge of something vast, reaching for each other in the dark.

Halfway through, everything changed—

Julian woke up.

Our breaths tangled, the air thick with heat and sweat. Julian stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief.

The shock in his eyes was so raw I could feel the world tilt. I froze, my heart pounding like I’d been caught doing something forbidden. His confusion was a cold wave, washing away everything we’d just shared.

In that moment, I knew my boyfriend was gone.

He was Julian—not my lover.

Deep down, I couldn’t tell if it was sadness or something else. We’d just crossed the most intimate line, yet in reality we were barely more than classmates.

That was all.

A dull ache settled in my chest, the kind that makes you want to curl up and disappear. I stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of how everything could feel so close and so far away at the same time.

“Get up.” I patted Julian’s shoulder.

My voice sounded steadier than I felt. The movement sent a strange ache through me. Once Julian had completely moved away, I felt both relieved and a little empty.

The silence stretched between us, broken only by the rustle of sheets and the distant hum of a city that kept moving, no matter what.

“Where… is this?” Julian’s expression was calm, but the look in his eyes betrayed his unease.

He glanced around, brow furrowed, as if trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing. The city lights spilled in through the blinds, painting stripes across his bare shoulders.

“My place.” I pulled on my nightshirt, trying to act like this was normal. As I got out of bed, I picked up the scattered clothes on the floor and tossed them to Julian.

The fabric felt heavy in my hands, like it carried the weight of everything unspoken between us. I tried to keep my face blank, not wanting to give anything away.

“Why am I here?” Julian frowned.

His voice was sharper now, suspicion creeping in. He clutched the sheets to his chest, like armor.

You drank too much. I don’t know how you ended up here.

I shrugged, trying to act like it was nothing. My heart was pounding, though—I hoped he wouldn’t see through the lie. It was the kind of excuse that wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny, but I didn’t have anything better.

Julian paused. “Do you really think I’m that easy to fool?”

His eyes narrowed, the old edge in his tone returning. For a moment, he looked so much like the Julian everyone else knew—distant, skeptical, impossible to read.

I turned and looked at him in the dim glow from the streetlights outside.

The light caught the side of his face, throwing half of it in shadow. I wondered if he could see the tremor in my hands as I gripped the edge of my dresser.

After a long pause, I finally spoke. “I have a boyfriend.”

The words tasted strange, like I was trying on someone else’s life for size. I watched his reaction, searching for any flicker of recognition.

Julian stared at me.

He didn’t blink, didn’t move. The air between us grew thick with things neither of us would say out loud.

“He said his name is Lucas—your older brother.”

Julian opened his mouth, but no words came out.

His lips parted, then closed again. I could see the gears turning, the disbelief warring with something like understanding. It was as if the world had tilted, and he was trying to find his balance.

“So, do you get it now?” I asked. “Can you leave?”

My voice was firmer than I felt. I crossed my arms, bracing myself for whatever came next. The room felt smaller, the silence pressing in on us.

Julian hesitated, fumbling in the dark as he got dressed.

He was still flushed, struggling with his jeans, taking a while to pull himself together.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye, noticing the way his hands shook as he buttoned his shirt. It was the first time I’d ever seen him look so vulnerable, so unsure of himself.

The small apartment felt cramped and unfamiliar to him. As he got out of bed, he nearly tripped over a chair in the dark.

He muttered a soft curse under his breath, barely audible. The scrape of the chair legs against the hardwood echoed in the quiet, and I winced at the sound.

But I never turned on the light.

I couldn’t bring myself to make it any more real than it already was. The darkness was a shield, thin but necessary.

Julian paused at the door, glancing back at me. “When did you and Lucas get together?”

His voice was low, almost hesitant. I could see the question weighed on him, even if he tried to sound casual.

“Junior year of high school.”

I kept my answer simple, not trusting myself to say more. The memory of those days flickered behind my eyes, bright and painful.

He nodded. “He hid you well. I’ve been in therapy for almost half a year and my therapist never brought it up. If he shows up again, can you—”

His words trailed off, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the thought. He looked at me, searching for something I couldn’t give.

“He won’t show up again,” I interrupted. “Ever since you started therapy, he’s appeared less and less.”

My voice was soft, almost gentle. I tried to keep the bitterness out of it, but I wasn’t sure I succeeded.

“But how can you be sure he won’t come back?”

He sounded desperate, almost pleading—a little of both. I wasn’t sure. I wondered if he was afraid for himself or for me.

I gave a slight, bitter smile. “If he’d had even a little strength left to suppress you, he never would’ve let you wake up in a situation like that.”

I watched his face, waiting for the words to sink in. There was a strange relief in finally saying it out loud, even if it hurt.

After Julian left, I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

The tiles were freezing under my feet. I shivered, letting the water run until steam fogged up the mirror. My reflection was a blur, a stranger’s face looking back at me.

There were still traces of warmth on my skin from being touched, but my lover would never return.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold on to the memory before it faded. The ache in my chest was sharp, a reminder of what I’d lost.

Water poured down over me. I covered my face, not knowing if what ran down my cheeks was tears or just the shower.

The spray drowned out everything else. I let myself cry, or maybe I just let the water do the crying for me. It didn’t matter. The pain was the same either way.

Halfway through washing, someone knocked on the door.