Lose Me Again

Trapped

Chapter Five

Trapped

(Esha’s POV)

The rain was pounding down outside, turning the streets of Edinburgh into slick, gray rivers. I watched from the library window, cursing under my breath as I saw the downpour. I’d been cooped up in here for hours, too absorbed in my studies to notice when the storm started creeping in. Now, the rain showed no signs of letting up, and my umbrella? Safely back in my dorm—completely useless.

“Great,” I muttered, slinging my bag over my shoulder. The only thing worse than getting drenched on my walk back was the idea of sitting here alone, waiting out the storm with nothing left to study.

I headed toward the exit, resigning myself to the inevitable soaking, but as I reached the door, I nearly collided with a very wet, very familiar face.

Andy.

“Brilliant,” I murmured under my breath as I looked up at him. He was absolutely drenched, his blonde hair plastered to his forehead and his leather jacket dripping like he’d just swum through a river.

Andy blinked at me, and for once, his trademark smirk was missing. He shook some of the rain from his jacket, droplets splattering onto the floor as he stood there, clearly having just run in to escape the storm.

“You’re soaked,” I remarked, surprised by how disheveled he looked.

“No s**t,” he replied, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “Didn’t realize we were living in a monsoon zone.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. There was something almost ridiculous about seeing Andy—always so composed and confident—so utterly drenched and miserable.

“Well, it looks like we’re both stuck here,” I said, gesturing toward the torrential rain.

Andy glanced outside and then shrugged, stepping aside as if to let me pass. But there was something different in his expression, something softer. “Mind if I join you?”

I hesitated. The last thing I needed was another conversation that ended with us bickering like we always did. But the way he asked… it wasn’t cocky or teasing. Just… sincere.

“Sure,” I said, surprising even myself with the answer.

We found a small table by the window, the sound of the rain pelting the glass filling the space between us. It felt strange to be sitting here together, not throwing jabs or insults. I stole a glance at Andy as he leaned back in his chair, his hair still damp and sticking up at odd angles. He looked… different. Less composed, more human.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a while, breaking the silence. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I replied, shaking my head. “Just trying to figure out why you’re not being an arrogant prick for once.”

He smirked, though it was softer than usual. “Maybe I’m tired of the fighting.”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Yeah, well, even I get tired of being an asshole sometimes,” he said with a grin, leaning forward slightly. His blue eyes locked onto mine, the usual mischief tempered by something else—something more serious. “Honestly, Esha, I think we should try starting over.”

I blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. “Starting over?”

“Yeah. You know… have a real conversation for once,” he said, leaning back in his chair. His tone was casual, but there was an edge of sincerity there that caught me off guard. “We’re going to keep running into each other. Might as well make it less… hostile.”

I narrowed my eyes, unsure whether to trust him. This was Andy, after all. But at the same time, I was tired of the constant back-and-forth too.

“Why should I believe this isn’t some weird game you’re playing?” I asked, crossing my arms.

Andy shrugged, his expression softening. “Look, I know we haven’t exactly gotten along. But I’m not playing games, Esha. I just… I don’t know. Maybe I want to know who you are when you’re not tearing me apart.”

There was a long pause as I tried to figure out if he was serious or not. For once, he seemed to be. I felt myself relaxing, just a little.

“Alright,” I said finally. “But if you start being a jerk again, I’m done.”

Andy’s smile widened, but it was different this time—softer, more genuine. “Deal.”

We sat in silence for a while, watching the rain. It wasn’t the awkward, charged silence we usually shared—this felt almost… comfortable. I wasn’t used to feeling this way around Andy, but it wasn’t as unpleasant as I’d expected.

“So,” Andy said after a long pause, turning toward me again. “Tell me something real. Not a comeback, not an insult—just something about you.”

I blinked, startled by the question. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, his gaze steady. “Something real.”

I hesitated. I wasn’t used to opening up, not like this, and especially not with Andy. But there was something about the way he asked that made it hard to brush him off.

I exhaled slowly and shrugged. “Fine. My dad barely knows I exist. He’s more interested in his business than in me—or my sister. I spent most of my life trying to prove myself to him, but now… I don’t bother anymore. I’m tired of trying.”

Andy’s face softened, his usual cocky grin vanishing entirely. He didn’t speak right away, but I could tell he was listening—really listening.

“That’s real,” he said quietly, his voice lower now. “I get that.”

I glanced at him, surprised by how seriously he seemed to be taking my words. “What about you?”

Andy was silent for a moment, then shrugged, his expression guarded. “My dad has a mistress and a son with her… and she’s my mother’s sister.”

I blinked, taken aback by his honesty. He’d said it so simply, like he was talking about the weather, but I could see the pain behind his words. It was raw, like a wound that hadn’t healed. For a moment, we just looked at each other, and I realized that beneath all his bravado, Andy had his own set of scars.

“That’s real,” I said softly, echoing his earlier words.

For a second, the tension between us shifted, turning into something deeper. My heart beat faster, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure if it was from anger. There was something raw in the way Andy looked at me now, something that made me feel exposed—and maybe, just maybe, I didn’t hate it.

But then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it shattered.

“I think that’s the longest we’ve gone without arguing,” Andy said, his smirk creeping back onto his face. "It must be the rain, otherwise I'm sure you would have fled or maybe pounced on me. I wouldn't mind the latter. Though when you fight me, I find it harder to resist, and now it makes sense with the whole daddy issue-"

My brow furrowed. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

He shrugged, his expression too casual. “What? I thought we were having a nice moment.”

“Of course you did,” I muttered, shaking my head. “You always have to ruin it.”

“Ruin it?” His smirk faded, replaced by a frown. “I wasn’t trying to ruin anything. Why do you always assume I’m trying to mess with you?”

“Because you always do,” I shot back, my frustration flaring up again. “You can’t go five minutes without turning everything into some kind of joke or competition. It’s like you don’t know how to be serious for more than a second.”

“I was serious!” Andy snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation. “I’m trying here, Esha. You’re the one who can’t let go of whatever grudge you have against me.”

“I don’t have a grudge,” I said, standing up, my voice rising. “But I’m not going to sit here and pretend we’re suddenly friends just because we shared a few personal stories.”

Andy stood up too, the tension between us sparking again, hotter this time. “I never said we were friends. But maybe if you stopped assuming the worst about me, you’d realize I’m not the enemy.”

“Right. Because you’re just the innocent victim here, right?” I shot back, my heart hammering in my chest. “I’m not the one who’s always looking for a fight.”

“Neither am I!” he shouted back, his voice sharp. “But you seem determined to keep pushing me away. Maybe you’re the one with the problem, Esha.”

My jaw clenched, hands shaking with anger. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“And you don’t know anything about me either,” he said, his voice low, eyes locked on mine. “But that doesn’t stop you from judging me every damn time.”

For a moment, we just stood there, glaring at each other, the storm outside a perfect reflection of the one between us. That vulnerable moment we’d shared felt distant now, replaced by the same old, charged tension.

“I’m done with this,” I said finally, my voice cold as I turned to leave.

“Of course you are,” Andy muttered bitterly. “Run away. That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?”