Brent’s POV
The afternoon sky was gray, clouds gathering in the distance as if echoing the unease growing inside me. I decided to visit Betty one more time before heading back to town, hoping to shake the nagging feeling that something was off. But when I got to her dorm, it was empty.
I knocked twice, waited, and knocked again, each unanswered rap of my knuckles heightening the familiar pang of worry mixed with frustration. I tried her phone, but the call went to voicemail. The silence felt heavier than it should have, like an unwelcome companion whispering worst-case scenarios into my ear.
With nowhere else to go, I drove to Stacey’s mansion. Betty sometimes went there when she needed a break from campus life, and it was the only other place I could think to check.
The mansion stood as imposing as ever, its grand facade casting long shadows over the driveway as I parked my car. Memories of the last time I’d been here flickered in my mind, moments I’d tried to forget but couldn’t quite erase. I hesitated before walking up the steps, the weight of history between Stacey and me making my steps feel heavier.
When she opened the door, I felt a wave of awkwardness crash over me. Stacey stood there, her arms crossed, her expression cool and composed as her sharp eyes studied me.
“Brent,” she said, her tone even but tinged with curiosity. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’m looking for Betty,” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “She’s not at the dorm.”
Stacey smirked, leaning against the doorframe with the ease of someone who knew exactly how to make you uncomfortable. “And you figured she’d be here?”
Her words carried an edge, and I hesitated, the tension between us palpable. “Look, about before—”
She held up a hand, cutting me off before I could say more. “It’s fine,” she said, her voice light but distant. “I’m used to being the side chick, the trophy girlfriend, or a rebound. No hard feelings.”
The nonchalance in her tone stung more than it should have. I cleared my throat, feeling the words catch before I forced them out. “Stacey,” I said, my voice softening, “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You’re a great girl. You’ve come a long way.”
For a moment, her expression faltered. A flicker of vulnerability passed across her face, so brief that I almost missed it. Then she shrugged, masking whatever she felt with her usual air of defiance. “Guess that’s what happens when your mom dies, your dad tries to scam you, and you almost lose a kidney.”
Despite the humor in her tone, the weight of her words hung heavy in the air between us. I stared at her, not knowing how to respond.
“I mean it,” I said after a moment. “I’m happy for you.”
She nodded, a small, almost shy smile breaking through her carefully constructed armor. “And I’m happy for you and Betty.”
Her words were genuine, but they carried a finality that made my chest tighten.
“Do you know where she is?” I asked, the question breaking the silence.
Stacey leaned against the doorframe, tapping her fingers lightly against the wood as she thought. “She mentioned something about going to a café,” she said. “She spends a lot of time there. Even on weekends.”
I nodded, taking a step back. “Thanks, Stacey.”
She nodded again, her expression softening just enough to remind me of why I’d cared about her in the first place. “Take care, Brent.”
“You too,” I said before heading back to my car.
As I drove away, the mansion loomed in my rearview mirror, its grandeur fading into the gray horizon. Stacey’s words stayed with me, heavy and bittersweet, as I headed toward the café, hoping I wasn’t already too late.