Falling for My Ex's Roommate

Chapter 2

The third time I dialed Simon’s number, he finally answered.

I held the phone tightly against my ear, my breath hitching. His name felt heavy, awkward on my tongue.

“Lola?” His voice came through low and lazy, with that trademark hint of indifference.

“It’s raining hard,” I said, barely keeping the tremor out of my voice. “I’m by the river, and… I can’t get back. Can you pick me up?”

There was silence on the other end. It stretched so long that I started second-guessing myself.

I gripped the umbrella handle tighter, my palm slippery with rain and sweat.

In my dream, Simon had cried when he found my remains. His tears fell hot and steady onto what was left of me, burning even through the haze of death.

He carried a small bottle of my ashes with him for the rest of his life.

And he was alone for the rest of his life.

The memory stung, and tears welled up despite my best efforts.

“Why are you crying?” Simon’s voice finally broke through, sharp but not unkind.

“I… I’m not.”

“You’re terrible at lying,” he muttered, exhaling heavily. Then, softer: “I never said I wouldn’t come.”

Relief washed over me so fast it left me dizzy. “When will you get here?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” I smiled shakily, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll wait for you, Simon.”

He didn’t reply, just hung up.

Fifteen minutes later, I gave my umbrella to a mother and her little boy who were huddled under a tree, soaked to the bone.

When Simon arrived, I was standing in the downpour, drenched from head to toe.

He got out of the car, his face set in a mask of icy calm. His sharp gaze swept over me once before his lips pressed into a hard line.

I brushed my wet bangs out of my face and managed a smile. “Simon, you’re right on time.”

“Lola,” he said, his voice clipped, “you might actually die of stupidity one day.”

Before I could respond, he grabbed my arm, not gently, but not harshly, and steered me into the car.

“Dry off,” he ordered, tossing a blanket at me. “And don’t ruin my seats.”

I wrapped myself in the blanket without argument, watching him through the corner of my eye as he slid into the driver’s seat.

His profile was sharp under the dim streetlights, his jaw set like he was holding back a hundred things he wanted to say.

Simon always looked like this, cold, untouchable.

At school, girls whispered about him but never dared to approach. Even Zack, his roommate, didn’t seem to know much about him.

I used to think he couldn’t stand me.

Every time I showed up at their dorm to see Zack, Simon would glance at me like I was a stray dog tracking mud onto his pristine floor.

Even now, despite coming to my rescue, he kept his distance. His movements were precise, calculated, as if I might explode if he got too close.

The spot on my arm where he’d grabbed me throbbed faintly. A red ring was forming, a small reminder of his frustration.

I stared down at it, my thoughts swirling.

The dreams had been so accurate, so vivid.

But things were changing now. Because I was changing them.

Would Simon still care for me in this rewritten version of events?

If he didn’t… would I just be causing him trouble?

“Back to the dorm?” Simon’s voice startled me out of my thoughts.

I looked up, his sharp eyes meeting mine briefly before returning to the road.

My heart skipped a beat. “Yeah,” I said quickly. “Your dorm.”

He scoffed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Zack won’t be back tonight.”

“I know.”

I twisted the edge of the blanket in my hands, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m not here for him.”

The car braked abruptly, jerking to a stop by the side of the road.

Simon turned to me, his expression unreadable, his voice low and controlled.

“Then why are you here, Lola?”