Falling for my Enemy's Brother-Chapter 43: You saw me, then you didn’t

Her muscles locked. Her feet stopped moving, rooted to the patio like something invisible had gripped her ankles. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until Craig walked away.

Only then did she exhale, and when she let it go, it felt wrong.

"Be right back," Louis said, giving her waist a quick squeeze. "I’m gonna grab us something to drink. You want the usual?"

Merlina nodded. "Thanks."

He disappeared into the crowd, leaving her alone by the poolside, her mind still stuck on the look Craig had given her. Like she was something sour he hadn’t meant to taste.

She tried to shake it off, tried to focus on the music, the laughter, the blurred silhouettes of people dancing under fairy lights strung across the backyard. But her body felt too aware, too stiff, like that one glance had rewired everything inside her.

A few minutes passed before the familiar swirl of chaos returned—Phoebe’s laughter echoing from the other end of the patio, Keith’s booming voice rising above the music. They’d spotted Craig and Adriana near the firepit, half-laughing, half-mocking each other while roasting marshmallows. Phoebe squealed and tugged Keith’s arm. "Come on, let’s go join them!"

Before Merlina could say anything, Phoebe had already looped her arm through hers. "You’re coming too," she said, dragging her across the patio.

When they reached the firepit, Adriana was the first to notice her.

"Hey, Merlina," she said, tossing her a smile as she shifted her skewer. "Didn’t know you were here too."

"Yeah," Merlina replied, returning the smile. "Just got in."

So, that was how she ended up here—by the fire, with Craig and Adriana, Keith and Phoebe flanking her on either side. A circle she didn’t quite belong to, but somehow found herself a part of anyway.

Phoebe and Keith immediately dove into a heated debate about whether marshmallows should be golden brown or charred black. Adriana joined in with her usual sass, waving her perfectly toasted marshmallow like it was Exhibit A in a court trial.

Merlina smiled, listening but not really hearing.

Then her eyes landed on Craig.

"Hey," she said, keeping her tone light.

He looked right at her.

But he didn’t say a word.

Just stared for half a second too long, then turned his face away like she hadn’t even spoken. Like she wasn’t even there.

Something twisted in her stomach.

He didn’t even flinch. No smirk, no snarky comeback. Nothing.

Phoebe didn’t notice. She was too busy whispering something to Adriana. Keith was balancing a can on his head for laughs. And Craig... Craig had gone stone cold.

The same Craig who dragged her away from the group date to a cabin, made coffee and held her hand. The one who held her chin up, asking her to look at him. The one who looked back at her with fire in his eyes, waited until she was safe in her dorm before driving off.

Now, all she got was ice.

Merlina stood there, rooted in place, trying not to show how much it stung.

The rest of the night went on in a blur of clinking drinks, muffled music, and forced laughter. Louis came back with her soda and a napkin folded into a weird triangle. She smiled and said thank you, let him pull her into a dance, let him twirl her, let him hold her.

But her eyes kept drifting back to Craig.

To the way he leaned against the railing with a beer in hand, listening to Keith’s story but not laughing. To the way he kept his back turned whenever she got too close. Like she had become invisible.

Later that night, while the party was still going strong and everyone was too distracted to notice much, she spotted him alone by the bar at the back patio. She had been drinking—more than she planned to—and it made her feel warm, a little bold.

Something inside her told her to walk over.

She walked over, heart steady but guarded.

"Hey," she said, quiet but clear.

Craig turned to her. His face was unreadable, like a page she wasn’t allowed to flip.

"Are you okay?" she asked, trying to sound casual. It came out more gentle than she expected.

He shrugged without looking at her. "Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?"

She crossed her arms. "I don’t know. You tell me. You’ve been... weird."

Craig raised an eyebrow, finally meeting her eyes. "Weird?"

"Back to being rude to me ?"

A scoff. "What are you talking about?"

There was an aching behind her eyes as she stared at him. "I literally greeted you earlier and you just looked at me. Didn’t even respond."

Craig’s jaw tensed. "Didn’t notice."

"Right." She let out a bitter little laugh. "Of course you didn’t."

He looked away, lips tight.

"Why are you acting like this?" she asked, softer now. "Is it because I’m here with Louis?"

That got a reaction. His eyes snapped back to hers, sharper now.

"Why would I care who you’re with?" Craig snapped, voice sharp, not flat.

The irritation in his tone wasn’t casual—it was cutting, raw, like her question had struck a nerve he didn’t want exposed.

Merlina took a breath. "I don’t know," she said, trying to hold his gaze. "You tell me."

He didn’t answer. Instead, Craig drained what was left of his drink and tossed the cup into the bin behind him. The sound hit louder than it should have.

And then, he stepped forward.

Closer than she expected. Too close.

For a second, she thought—hoped—he was about to be honest.

He wasn’t.

He exhaled slowly, staring somewhere over her shoulder. Then, finally, his eyes met hers.

"You’re not that important, Merlina." His voice was low. Measured. But it was the way he looked at her that made it worse—like he meant to hurt her, but hated that he did.

Her heart dropped. Heat flared in her cheeks, her grip tightening around the plastic cup she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her breath snagged, lodged somewhere between disbelief and the kind of pain that makes your body forget how to move.

He held the silence for a moment longer, his expression composed but distant. But his eyes, they gave him away. Not cold. Not angry. Just... wounded. Like hurting her had cost him something too.

Before she could say a word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd like he couldn’t leave fast enough.

Merlina stood frozen, the words burning in her chest.

Not that important.

It echoed louder than the music, louder than the laughter around her. She blinked hard, trying to hold it together, but it stung. God, it stung.

By the firepit, Craig found Adriana roasting another marshmallow, her heels kicked off, hair pulled back.

She looked up the moment he stepped into the glow of the flames. "Hey. You okay?"

He didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, staring at the fire like it might burn the mess out of him.

"I don’t know what’s wrong with me," he said finally, voice low.

Adriana’s brows pulled together. "What happened?"

Craig ran a hand through his hair. "I don’t know," he repeated, quieter this time. "I just... don’t."

And that was the truth. There was no reason that made sense, no excuse that sounded noble enough. Just a weight in his chest and the look on her face when he said it—one he wouldn’t be able to forget.

Back at the bar, Merlina hadn’t moved. She was still staring at nothing, trying to breathe through the sting.

Megan appeared beside her, drink in hand, grinning. "Did you see that dude fall in the pool? Craziest belly flop of the night."

"What?" Merlina blinked. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Megan tilted her head, the smile fading. "You good?"

Merlina nodded too fast. "Yeah. Just spaced out."

But she wasn’t fine. The burn in her chest hadn’t faded. If anything, it settled deeper, curling in her stomach.

Later, the ride away from the party was quiet. She sat in the passenger seat of Louis’s car, arms folded, forehead pressed lightly to the cool window. The sounds of the night had dulled to a low hum in the background. Even Louis didn’t say much, like he knew she wasn’t in the mood.

She didn’t look at him.

Didn’t want to.

Her fingers kept flexing on her lap, restless, like they needed something to hold that wasn’t slipping. She didn’t know how to talk about it, how badly it hurt, or how deeply it cut in a place she thought was safe.

What would she even say?

That Craig had looked at her like she meant nothing, and it shattered something inside her ? That she was dumb enough to start a conversation with him even after he ignored her ? That Craig mattered that much to her ? He wouldn’t understand, and frankly she didn’t understand herself either.

His phone buzzed. He picked it up, casual. "Yeah, yeah. What’s up?"

A long pause followed. Merlina didn’t turn to listen, but she heard the subtle shift in his breathing.

He ended the call and glanced over at her, his tone suddenly sharper. "Conor Lesnar’s back in town."

Her head snapped toward him before she could stop herself, eyes wide.

And just like that, the ache in her chest twisted into something else entirely.