Falling for my Enemy's Brother-Chapter 55: Crossroads

"What?" Merlina blinked, unsure she had heard him right.

But everything about his energy felt different, he wasn’t joking. His tone wasn’t guarded like usual. Not completely.

Craig’s eyes stayed locked on hers, but his posture gave him away. His tense shoulders, a quick glance at the floor before meeting her gaze again. "I mean..." he started, then paused, swallowing hard.

His voice dropped, quieter now, like he was second-guessing himself even as the words left his mouth. "What I mean is... you don’t have to date him anymore, do you?"

Her brows knit together. Her heart did this weird little skip. Part panic, part curious. "Huh?"

"You said you were done with everything. The case, the rumors, all of it," he said, his voice low and careful. "So you don’t need Louis anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "I said I was done with this. What does that have to do with who I’m dating?"

Craig looked at her like the answer should be obvious. But it wasn’t. Not to her. Not when things between them were always one step forward, ten steps back.

"Craig, you don’t have to worry about him. I’m no longer interested in anything concerning your family," she said, brushing past him, as she tried to keep her voice even.

But he moved in front of her again. His eyes looked sharp, urgent. "Because you got what you wanted?"

"What?" she snapped, confused now.

"You got what you wanted," he repeated, softer this time. "Seeing you with Louis...it eats at me. And every time I see you with him, it hurts more than I can say."

Her heart quickened—not from anger, but something else. Hope, perhaps. She exhaled softly, the breath escaping a little louder than she had intended, as if her body refused to keep the feeling locked away.

For a second, she really wished this was it. That Craig was finally going to stop dancing around it, finally say what they’d both been feeling. That he was choosing her—really choosing her, above his ego. That he was reaching out, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

But then, she had to be sure. This was Craig Lesnar, after all.

She looked at him, heart pounding. "Why?" Her voice was quiet, still hopeful. She needed him to say it. Really say it.

But he didn’t. He just stood there, thoughts distant, eyes avoiding hers.

Her chest tightened. His silence wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. He was still dancing around the truth. Close enough to stir something in her—but never close enough to say it out loud.

"Why do you feel that way about me and Louis?" she asked again, her voice gentler this time. "Craig..."

She wanted to touch him, to pull him out of whatever wall he was hiding behind.

The truth was, she didn’t love Louis. Not yet. But it was easier to say yes to him than hoping for a maybe from the guy standing right in front of her.

Craig’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with frustration "Because..." His voice faltered, then he looked away, his hand running through his hair, like the weight of the truth was too heavy to carry. "I don’t know."

He hated how Louis looked at her—as if she belonged to him. He hated the way he kissed her, like stealing something Craig had never been allowed to hold. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

And just like that, the moment was gone. The silence hit harder than any words. Her hope sank.

He wasn’t going to be honest. Not about this. Not about them. And Merlina was tired of acting like none of it mattered. Tired of hurting every time he pulled away.

"I don’t get upset when I see you with Adriana," she said, bitterness threading through her tone. She lied—just like Craig was lying to her.

He looked at her now. There was something raw in his eyes. "You don’t hate Adriana. I hate Louis."

She blinked. "What does that even mean?"

"It means I want us to be friends, to be cordial...but we can’t be that if your boyfriend is Louis."

A sharp ache stirred deep inside her chest—pain, yes, but laced with something rawer. Frustration, the kind that burns when the person you want most keeps hiding behind silence and walls, refusing to face what’s real between you. When every glance, every word left unsaid, screams there’s more, but they act like it’s nothing.

Was she not worth breaking those walls down?

She was done. Done waiting for him to speak the truth she both feared and longed to hear. Done carrying this burden alone. She knew he felt it too, his eyes betrayed him in moments he tried to hide, but pride and fear kept him silent.

Friends?

Cordial?

Her voice trembled, a fragile edge beneath the firmness. "We can’t."

She stepped around him, heart splintering with each step.

His voice cracked the silence, desperate, raw. "Because you still think Conor did it?"

She stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat, shaking her head. Her voice wavered but grew stronger with the truth burning inside. "It’s not about your brother anymore."

She met his eyes, vulnerability and fire mingling in her words. "It’s you, Craig. You’re the one I can’t figure out."

He moved closer, closing the distance with hesitant steps, voice dropping to a near whisper, heavy with longing. "You really think I can figure you out?"

She took a step back, before the words could spill out again. She couldn’t take it, not this mess of confusion and half-truths, not anymore.

"You confuse me, you’re hot one minute, freezing me out the next. You’re impulsive, arrogant..." Her voice cracked, but not with anger. It trembled with something rawer—hurt, frustration, something she couldn’t quite name. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes searching his face one last time. "Even if you weren’t a Lesnar, we could never be friends."

Then she turned and walked away. No slammed doors. No shouting. Just the quiet weight of a breaking heart. And he didn’t stop her.

He couldn’t.

Because deep down, he was still trying to protect a heart that already belonged to her.

The moment she stepped out of the restroom, the world snapped back into motion. Laughter, clinking glasses, the low buzz of conversation—it all felt too loud. Craig followed slowly behind her, his presence quiet but impossible to ignore. Deep down in her chest, even the sound of his footsteps hurt.

Phoebe spotted her first. "We were almost about to come look for you guys."

Merlina offered a tired smile.

"Your soup’s cold," Phoebe added casually, when she saw Craig sit down. "Order another one." Then she motioned to the waiter.

"I have had enough of today." Craig muttered, then he turned to Keith. "You done?"

Keith, caught off guard but quick to respond, gave a small nod. "Uh... yeah, sure."

Craig’s gaze lingered on Merlina, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. "Drive safe," he said quietly, then added, "I’ll have someone come pick up my car."

Even now...after everything she’d said, he still cared. Still made room for her in the smallest of ways.

And it hurt.

She could only nod, the ache in her chest swelling with a quiet kind of regret as he walked away.

Phoebe gave her and Megan a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Keith a half-smile, before the two of them followed closely behind Craig.

Merlina walked toward Craig’s car, her steps slow, mind still caught in the weight of what hadn’t been said. She slid into the driver’s seat, barely hearing the door shut. Megan was already buckled in beside her, quiet.

The conversation kept replaying. His eyes. His silence. That almost-confession he couldn’t bring himself to finish. The way he looked at her. The way he didn’t follow. The way he still told her to drive safe.

Merlina blinked hard, trying to shake off the weight of everything left unsaid. She hadn’t even noticed Megan’s eyes on her until the silence stretched too long. Megan’s luscious hair caught the low light as she tilted her head, a knowing look softening her gaze.

"So," Megan said, voice low but sharp, "what’s really going on between you and Craig?"