Chapter 67: Don’t Make Me Choose

Astrid

I barely slept that night, and it had nothing to do with Selene or the stolen notes. It was what Reed had said, replaying over and over in my head. Your choice doesn’t disappear because we’re struggling.

I’d spent weeks assuming the mate bond would eventually force them to take something from me. Instead, they were suffering quietly and still handing me my choice back, unasked.

That made me feel guilty. And underneath the guilt sat something else entirely.

I missed them.

I hated admitting that, even privately. At breakfast I watched them both, exhausted in a way sleep clearly hadn’t fixed. Neither complained. Neither asked anything of me. Xander managed a small joke, though even that felt restrained, quieter than usual.

Watching them, I didn’t think stay away from me anymore.

I thought, how long are they going to keep doing this?

And I realized I didn’t want to find out.

At school I made a decision, deliberate and small. I’d stop treating them like something to avoid. In class I chose a seat closer to Reed, not directly beside him, just closer than I would have picked yesterday. He noticed. He didn’t say anything about it, though I caught him glancing my way once.

Later I found Xander and started asking about our project, something I could have easily figured out myself.

"You came looking for me?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I came looking for information," I said.

"Of course."

His grin told me he didn’t believe that for a second. I asked about a research source. He answered. Then I stayed anyway.

"Anything else?" he asked.

I shook my head, and still didn’t leave.

I realized, slowly, that I was choosing to be near them. Nobody was pulling me toward them. The bond wasn’t dragging me anywhere.

I was doing this myself. Somehow that made all of it feel less frightening.

We regrouped at the library after classes, spreading our recovered research across the table. Xander complained loudly about how much work remained, blaming Selene dramatically for the delay, and Reed told us both to stop talking and actually work.

Underneath the familiar banter, I kept noticing Reed. His posture stayed stiff, his attention drifting toward me more than the pages in front of him. I thought about what Ivy had told me, about the rut, about how much effort it clearly took him just to sit across from me like this.

I reached across him for a book, and our hands brushed.

He went completely still. I froze too. Neither of us moved for a second, and I could see the tension tightening along his jaw before he slowly pulled his hand back.

Not because he didn’t want to touch me. Because he did.

I took the book. I couldn’t concentrate on it after that.

"Why did you move?" I finally asked.

He didn’t answer immediately, and I wondered if I shouldn’t have asked at all.

"Astrid," he said finally, his voice low.

I waited.

"Don’t make this harder than it already is."

"What did I do?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "That’s the problem."

He didn’t elaborate. I studied his face and understood he wasn’t angry, wasn’t rejecting me. He was trying, hard, to control himself.

"Does being near me really affect you that much?" I asked.

He didn’t answer directly. The silence said enough.

Heat rose in my face, but instead of pulling back, I stayed exactly where I was. That surprised both of us, I think.

Eventually he looked back down at the book. "We should finish the project."

I nodded. Neither of us actually read another word for several minutes.

Later I found Xander alone, easier to approach somehow. I asked if he was avoiding me too.

"Trying to," he said, that familiar crooked smile settling into place.

"Why?"

He looked at me, no joke ready this time. "Because you asked us to."

That landed differently now than it would have a week ago. I told him I’d never meant for them to disappear entirely.

"Then what did you mean?" he asked.

I struggled with that. I admitted I was still scared, still had no idea how I was supposed to accept something this complicated. But I didn’t want them thinking I hated them.

His expression softened. "I’ve never thought you hated me."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you wouldn’t be standing here if you did."

That silenced me completely. He didn’t move closer. Didn’t touch me. He simply let me stand there, giving me all the space I needed, and that restraint made me feel safer than anything else could have.

"I don’t want you to stay away from me," I finally admitted.

His expression shifted. "Are you sure?"

I hesitated. I wasn’t ready to say I accepted the bond, wasn’t ready to say I wanted a relationship. But I could say this much.

"I don’t know what I want yet," I said. "But I know I don’t want you gone."

He accepted that without pushing for more. "Then we’ll stay."

Something loosened in my chest, not because the bond itself had changed anything, but because I’d made that choice myself.

That evening, back at the apartment, something in the atmosphere felt different. I sat between them instead of across the table, and I didn’t even fully register I’d done it until Xander noticed. He didn’t tease me about it. Reed didn’t shift away.

We worked quietly for a while. Xander made some ridiculous comment about our project timeline, and I laughed. Reed looked at me. I looked back.

No fear this time. Just awareness.

I noticed how close we all sat, shoulders nearly touching. I could have moved away easily.

I didn’t.

That was the moment that mattered. Nobody touched me. Nobody pressured me into anything.

I simply chose not to create distance.

Lying in bed later, I thought back over everything, the bond, the rut, the way both of them had respected every single boundary I’d thrown up between us without complaint. And I realized something that frightened me more than the bond itself ever had.

I wasn’t just tolerating their presence anymore.

I wanted them near me.

I thought about the way Reed had looked at me in the library. The way Xander had asked if I was sure, giving me every chance to take it back.

For weeks I’d been terrified accepting the bond would mean losing myself entirely.

Tonight, another thought occurred to me instead.

Maybe choosing them didn’t mean losing myself.

Maybe it meant finally admitting what I actually wanted.

I wasn’t ready to say it out loud. Not yet.

But the thought was there now, undeniable.

I don’t want them to stay away from me.

And having admitted that much to myself, I understood tomorrow would be harder.

Because Reed had been holding back more than I’d realized.

And eventually, I was going to have to hear exactly what he’d been wanting from me all along.