Hate Me Like You Love Me (Serena and Caleb) novel Chapter 56

Serena’s POV

The people who love us best are often the ones we work hardest to deceive.

I’m hunched over a textbook I haven’t actually read, the words swimming meaninglessly across the page, when a hand closes around my arm and yanks me out of my chair.

“Mia, what…”

“Not here.” She steers me through the library stacks with the determination of someone who’s been planning this ambush for days. “We’re going somewhere private.”

I stumble after her, too startled to resist, as she guides me into an empty study room at the back of the building.

The door closes behind us with a decisive click, and Mia plants herself in front of it like a guard blocking the only exit.

“We’re not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on.” The deflection comes automatically, worn smooth by weeks of practice. “I’m fine. Just stressed about exams.”

“Try again.”

“Seriously, Mia, everything’s under control.” I attempt a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “How are your classes going? Did you ever hear back from that guy you matched with on—”

“Don’t.” Her voice cuts through my diversionary tactics with surgical precision. “Don’t try to change the subject. Don’t pretend I’m stupid enough to fall for it.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, her dark eyes sharp with the kind of concern that refuses to be dismissed.

Mia has known me since freshman orientation, when she found me crying in the bathroom after my first college panic attack and talked me through breathing exercises until I stopped hyperventilating.

She’s seen me at my lowest. She knows every tell I have.

“You want to know what I see when I look at you?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer.

“I see dark circles that three layers of concealer can’t hide anymore. I see cheekbones that didn’t used to be that sharp. I see someone who startles every single time her phone buzzes.”

“Mia…”

“And I see that ring.”

Her gaze drops to my left hand, to the diamond glittering under the fluorescent lights. ”

The one you twist every time someone mentions Lucas’s name. The one you wear like it’s a shackle instead of a promise.”

My fingers have found the ring without my permission, rotating it around my finger in the nervous habit I didn’t realize I’d developed.

“That’s not a girl in love.” Mia’s voice softens, but her stance doesn’t waver. “That’s a girl in trouble. And I’m not leaving this room until you tell me which kind.”

Tell her. Tell her everything. Let someone else carry part of this weight.

But I can’t. Telling her about Caleb would mean admitting things I’m not ready to say out loud, would mean dragging her into a scandal that could destroy both our families.

And Lucas’s leverage, the footage, real or imagined, would still exist whether Mia knows about it or not.

“Everything is fine.” The words taste like ash. “I’m just adjusting to being engaged. It’s a big change.”

“Serena.”

She says my name like a warning.

“I have sat across from you in every class we’ve shared for three years. I know when you’re happy, and I know when you’re lying. Right now, you’re doing one of those things, and it’s not the first one.”

My carefully constructed walls begin to crack.

I shake my head, trying to hold myself together, but the pressure that’s been building for weeks has finally found a fracture line. My eyes burn, my throat tightens, my hands won’t stop shaking.

“I wish I could, but there are other people involved, people who would be hurt if this came out the wrong way. Speaking up now would cause more damage than staying silent.”

“That’s insane.” Mia paces the small room, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You’re telling me you’re just going to marry your rapist because he’s blackmailing you with something you won’t even name?”

“He didn’t…” I stop myself, the technicality feeling meaningless. “Caleb stopped him before he could finish what he started. But yes. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Serena, I can’t just do nothing.”

“You have to.” I reach for her, catching her hands, holding them tight between my own. “Please, Mia. I need you to trust me. I need you to wait until I figure out a way through this that doesn’t burn everything down.”

Her fury wars visibly with her loyalty. I watch the battle play out across her features—the protective rage demanding action, the love for me counseling patience. Her jaw works silently as she processes everything I’ve told her.

Finally, reluctantly, she nods.

“Fine.” The word comes out like it’s being dragged across broken glass. “I’ll wait. But I’m making you promise something first.”

“Anything.”

“If things escalate, if Lucas threatens you, touches you, if anything changes at all, you call me.” Her grip tightens on my hands. “Immediately. No hesitation, no trying to handle it alone.”

“I promise.”

She pulls me into a hug, her arms wrapping around me with fierce protectiveness. I collapse into her embrace, letting myself be held, letting someone else’s strength shore up the places where mine has worn thin.

For the first time in weeks, I feel like I’m not entirely alone in this nightmare.

But as we stand there in the fluorescent-lit study room, I realize I’ve made a promise I’m not sure I can keep—because if Lucas decides to escalate, calling Mia might already be too late.