I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Emery

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Laila and I sat at our favorite corner booth in Bean & Bloom, sipping on iced matcha and trying to act like the past week hadn’t been an emotional train wreck wrapped in glittery rage.

The place smelled like vanilla, cinnamon, and healing.

“I still can’t believe that asshole,” I said, leaning back in my seat, wirling my straw aggressively. “He was acting like he was a damn virgin or something talking all soft like we were going to be each other’s first.”

Laila shook her head, eyes wide with disgust. “Men have the audacity and the nerve. I’m honestly so disappointed in him, Em. But I’m glad you found out before it went any further. He doesn’t deserve your virginity.”

I raised my drink like a toast. “Say that again.”

She clinked her cup against mine. “To never wasting your first time on lying jerks with weak jawlines and floppy hair.”

We both sipped, and for a second, I actually smiled.

Until she tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at me.

“You know,” she said slowly, “if it wasn’t for Atlas stepping in that night… it could’ve been a different story.”

I blinked. “True. But…wait, how did he even know?”

Laila shrugged. “That’s what I was going to ask you.”

I went quiet, fingers tapping the cup.

Truth was, I had no idea.

I hadn’t talked to him.

Not once since that night.

And the last thing I said to him?

Something along the lines of:

“You’re a self-absorbed, jacket-throwing control freak with the emotional range of a teaspoon,”

plus some other less graceful words I was trying to mentally scrub from the record.

Laila gave me that look. The one that said she was about to hit me with the moral high ground.

“I get that you hate him,” she said gently, “but I think… maybe you owe him an apology.”

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Sighed.

“As much as I hate to admit it…” I muttered. “You might be right

Because deep down, underneath all the annoyance and spite and chaos…

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Chapter 7

Atlas Lawson didn’t have to do what he did that night.

But he did.

And whether I liked it or not…

He might’ve just saved me from a mistake I would’ve never forgiven myself for.

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The next day, I found myself standing in front of Atlas Lawson’s front door with way too much pride stuffed in my throat and not nearly enough of an apology prepared.

Daisy opened the door with that warm, sunbeam-of-a-smile she always wore. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, Daisy,” I said, returning her smile.

“He’s in his room,” she said, stepping aside to let me in.

I nodded, taking a breath as I walked through the familiar hallway and up the stairs. His door was cracked, and I knocked

once.

“Come in.”

His voice was calm. Unbothered.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside-and froze for a second.

His room was almost completely packed up.

Boxes were stacked by the window, posters taken down, drawers empty. It looked like a ghost of itself.

He was sitting on the floor, folding a hoodie into a duffel bag, eyes flicking up to meet mine.

“Hey,” he said simply.

I crossed my arms. “I can see you’re busy. I’ll just-”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, standing. “I’ve already packed everything.”

I walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. The mattress dippe slightly beneath me.

The silence that settled between us was thick with awkward tension.

I cleared my throat. “Congratulations on Linchester.”

“Thanks,” he said, leaning against the desk. “And… I’m sorry about Braymont.”

My smile was tight. “Yeah. Bummer.”

I acted like I hadn’t cried into my pillow for three nights straight like my heart hadn’t cracked a little when that rejection email came in. But I still had hope I was waitlisted. There was sta sliver of a chance.

Still, the idea of going to Linchester, the same school as Atlas, was enough to make me want to crawl into a sock drawer and live there forever.

“I got into Linchester,” I said casually. “But I’m not going. I mean who wants to go to school with their dad’s girlfriend’s

son?”

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15:02 Mon, Dec 29

Chapter 7

Atlas Lawson didn’t have to do what he did that night.

But he did.

And whether I liked it or not…

He might’ve just saved me from a mistake I would’ve never forgiven myself for.

35 vouchers

The next day, I found myself standing in front of Atlas Lawson’s front door with way too much pride stuffed in my throat and not nearly enough of an apology prepared.

Daisy opened the door with that warm, sunbeam-of-a-smile she always wore. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, Daisy,” I said, returning her smile.

“He’s in his room,” she said, stepping aside to let me in.

I nodded, taking a breath as I walked through the familiar hallway and up the stairs. His door was cracked, and I knocked

once.

“Come in.”

His voice was calm. Unbothered.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside-and froze for a second.

His room was almost completely packed up.

Boxes were stacked by the window, posters taken down, drawers empty. It looked like a ghost of itself.

He was sitting on the floor, folding a hoodie into a duffel bag, eyes flicking up to meet mine.

“Hey,” he said simply.

I crossed my arms. “I can see you’re busy. I’ll just—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, standing. “I’ve already packed everything.”

I walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath me.

The silence that settled between us was thick with awkward tension.

I cleared my throat. “Congratulations on Linchester.”

“Thanks,” he said, leaning against the desk. “And… I’m sorry about Braymont.”

My smile was tight. “Yeah. Bummer.”

I acted like I hadn’t cried into my pillow for three nights straight like my heart hadn’t cracked a little when that rejection email came in. But I still had hope I was waitlisted. There was still a sliver of a chance.

Still, the idea of going to Linchester, the same school as Atlas, w enough to make me want to crawl into a sock drawer and live there forever.

“I got into Linchester,” I said casually. “But I’m not going. I mean who wants to go to school with their dad’s girlfriend’s

son?”

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15:02 Mon, Dec 29 G

Chapter 7

Atlas chuckled. “It’s not so bad. Besides, even if you did go, you wouldn’t see me much. The campus is huge.”

I shot him a look. “I’m not trying to avoid you, Lawson.”

“Right,” he said, teasing “You just hate the idea of being around the 24/7”

“Well,” I smirked. “You’re not wrong. But Braymont’s my dream school. Always has been.”

He nodded, surprisingly sincere. “I get that.”

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The silence stretched again, and this time it felt like it had edges I took a breath, fingers twisting in the hem of my skirt.

“I’m sorry.” I said quietly.

His brow lifted. “For what?”

I looked at him. “For everything I said that night.”

He tilted his head. “Which part? The one where you called me a what was it? Oh right a self-absorbed, jacket-throwing control freak with the emotional range of a teaspoon?”

I winced. “Ugggh. I swear I was drunk and didn’t mean that.”

He folded his arms, grinning. “You sure?”

I cracked a smile. “Okay. Maybe I meant it. Just a little.”

We both laughed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the air between us didn’t feel like it wanted to kill me.

He shrugged. “It’s cool. I shouldn’t have barged in like that anyway.”

“How did you even know?”

His jaw tensed a little. “Someone sent the video to the hockey team group

chat.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Of course. The asshat had to have a record of him pumping into her. Disgusting.”

Atlas looked at me for a long second. “How are you feeling?”

I dropped my hands. “Oh, I’m fine. Totally over it.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“… Okay. Maybe not completely over it,” I admitted with a sigh. “But for what it’s worth-I’m glad I didn’t give him my virginity.”

Atlas nodded. “Yeah. There are way better guys out there. Ones who’d actually cherish it.”

I looked at him.

And he looked at me.

And in that moment… I saw what Laila had been fuming about for years.

He was handsome.

Ridiculously so.

Tousled brown hair, strong jawline, lashes too long for someone so emotionally unavailable.

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And those eyes deep, hazel, intense like he saw too much and sa too little.

We just stared at each other for a second longer than we should.

Then my phone rang.

The spell broke instantly.

I grabbed it, reading the screen. “That’s my ride.”

I stood, smoothing my dress. “Thanks, Atlas. And… I hope you have fun in college.”

He smiled, hands shoved into his pockets. “Wish you the same, olden.”

***

anthers

A few months had passed and… well… Braymont never called.

My name wasn’t pulled from the waitlist.

No last-minute miracle email.