Falling for my Enemy's Brother
Chapter 76: Waiting for a Signal

Chapter 76: Waiting for a Signal

It had been exactly a month.

No anonymous messages. No new threats. No explanations. Not even from Lizzie. Just silence.

They’d hoped the number would text again. That was the plan. Let it come to them. Track it. Trap it.

She remembered Miles’s words when he looked them both in the eye, her and Craig, and said, "The only way to conclusively trace a digital footprint is to catch the message live. Once it hits your phone, don’t delete, don’t screenshot, don’t forward. Just call me immediately."

He had spoken with the kind of intensity that made you sit straighter, like even your pulse had to behave. "Once we intercept it in real-time, we can extract the packet metadata, isolate the origin point, run a traceroute. If the IP’s not bouncing through too many proxies or VPN layers, we might just get lucky."

She remembered nodding. Craig had too.

But since that day, there had been nothing. And after everything that happened, after everything that was said, the quiet wasn’t comforting. It was agonizing.

It had been a month of pretending.

Merlina tried. She laughed. She studied. She showed up for Louis even when she didn’t feel present. She told herself it was better this way. Safer. Simpler.

But the ache didn’t leave.

It lingered in the quiet moments. When her phone lit up and it wasn’t his name. When she passed him on campus and he didn’t look her way. When Louis kissed her forehead and she swallowed the guilt instead of the truth.

But every time her phone buzzed, her heart reacted before her brain could remind her not to. Hope was stubborn like that.

The strangest part was how normal things felt. Normal in the kind of way that made her stomach twist. The absence of chaos left room for other feelings, unwelcome ones. Like missing the very person she’d told to stay away.

She hadn’t imagined that a few words, ’We can’t do this’ could dig such a wide, cold trench between them. But here she was, standing on one end, and Craig wasn’t even visible on the other.

He hadn’t texted.

Hadn’t called.

Hadn’t even asked if she’d gotten any new messages, the one thing they were supposed to be allies on.

He’d vanished into his life, and it was like she had never mattered.

Adriana was back at his side.

Keith, too. His ever-loyal sidekick.

Like he hadn’t cradled her face in his hands, voice trembling, eyes heavy, whispering that he wanted nothing more than to be there for her. Or flown in a tech expert from New York just to help her breathe easier.

Maybe he would’ve done that for anyone. For a friend. A neighbor. A pet. Or even Birds...the ones she had caught him feeding. Maybe he had a whole drawer of favors and she was just one more name on the list.

But then she remembered the way he looked at her. Not the usual cold, calculating Lesnar stare. No. This was different.

His gaze lingered in quiet moments, like her face said something he was trying to memorize. Like he saw her, the anger, the confusion, the guilt, and wanted all of it.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just bored. Maybe she was just a distraction until the real world called him back.

Still, she missed him.

Every day. Quietly. Painfully.

She never said it out loud. Not to her sister, not to Phoebe, not to Megan. Hell, she couldn’t. She swallowed it in between jokes and fake smiles, letting it build in her chest like a second heartbeat.

Sometimes she’d lie in bed at night and wonder what he was doing. If he was kissing Adriana. If he’d already told her everything, about the messages, about her.

And if he hadn’t... why?

Louis had been sweet. Supportive. Present. She pulled her hand away too quickly again when he touched her. She was scared he’d feel the guilt sitting heavy in her palm.

She had thought about ending things with him more than once, not out of cruelty, but because it felt like the kindest thing to do.

Louis deserved a heart that didn’t flinch when he touched her, someone whose lips hadn’t pressed against the boy he hated most. But with his dad currently in the hospital, there wouldn’t be a worse timing.

She couldn’t hurt him, when all he needed right now was a shoulder to lean on and warm arms to embrace.

They weren’t married.

There were no vows.

And yet walking away felt harder than it should, even when her heart, her body, her mind, were all somewhere else.

And that somewhere else didn’t even look in her direction anymore.

She was in a relationship with someone she couldn’t love the way he deserved, all because of someone who wouldn’t even text her.

Sometimes, she wondered what would happen if they crossed paths again. If he walked into a room and she was already in it.

Would they pretend? Would they smile? Would they fake indifference in front of people who had no clue they’d ever kissed, ever touched, ever come close to something real?

Or would one wrong move crack the entire façade?

"I said no balloons, Phoebe." Megan’s voice was quiet but firm as she sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, a textbook open but untouched in her lap. Her eyes were tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep could fix, but the kind that comes from waiting for news from a hospital room you’re not allowed to sleep in.

Phoebe stood in the middle of the dorm room, holding a notepad like she was planning a wedding. But it was a cheer-up party for Megan. After weeks of hospital visits, stress, and crappy vending-machine dinners, Megan hadn’t smiled in days.

So Phoebe took it upon herself to lift the mood with what she called a "support soirée" snacks, music, familiar faces, and absolutely no sadness allowed.

"We’re not throwing a party," Megan added softly.

Phoebe ignored her completely. "Merlina, make sure you pick up the cupcakes from Cam’s. The velvet ones. Not the weird lemon ones. And tell your boyfriend to drop off the speaker before six."

Merlina peeked out from behind her laptop, eyes narrowing. "I never said I was going out today."

"You are now," Phoebe snapped, walking around the room with full event-planner energy. "And wear something cute. No black. This is a cheering-up hangout, not a depression summit."

Megan groaned. "You guys don’t have to do this."

"Exactly why we’re doing it," Phoebe said, already dialing someone on her phone. "Keith? Hi. Yes, you’re bringing drinks. No, not the cheap ones. And a bag of those chili crisps Megan likes. Got it? You’re the best!"

She hung up and spun around with a grin. "Adriana’s coming too. I told her it’s for Megan, but she screamed when I said snacks. Priorities."

Merlina closed her laptop slowly. She wasn’t in the mood for company or effort, especially them. But she couldn’t say no. Not if this was for Megan. Not when things had been so heavy for her this month.

Because nothing about tonight felt chill, not with Adriana on the guest list.

Adriana, whose only crime was being the girlfriend of the guy Merlina couldn’t stop thinking about. The guy she almost slept with. The guy who kept showing up and ghosting her whenever he liked.

And if Adriana was coming, there was always the chance he might come too.

But Craig Lesnar wasn’t exactly known for comforting or cheering people on. So she crossed her fingers and told herself he’d probably ghost tonight, just like he’d ghosted her for the past month.

The driveway outside the Villa buzzed softly with the murmur of the evening. Music drifted from open windows, laughter weaving through the warm night air.

Craig stayed still, seated in his car with both hands clenched around the steering wheel. His gaze locked on the sprawling villa ahead, as if it were a fortress guarding a war he wasn’t ready to fight.

Adriana leaned forward to check herself in the mirror. "You coming?"

He blinked. "Yeah."

But he didn’t move.

She gave him a look, then reached for her bag. "You said you wanted to support Megan."

"No. You said that."

She shrugged, brushing gloss onto her lips. "Same difference."

He exhaled and finally opened the door.

Inside, his chest was a knot. Not because of the hangout. Not even because of Megan. But because he knew who else would be there.

Merlina.

It had been a month since they last spoke. A month since she told him they couldn’t do this. Since she looked at him with eyes full of sorrow and still walked away. Since she shattered something they hadn’t even fully built yet.

And so he stayed away.

At first, he told himself it was for her, to give her space, let her breathe, especially with the stress of the anonymous stalker and her family’s trauma.

Miles had been clear: any new anonymous message had to be reported immediately so they could capture the raw packet data and run a traceroute before the IP cloaked again. But weeks passed. Nothing. No new messages. No updates from her. Just silence.

And in that silence, he told himself distance was the right thing. That maybe staying away would make her life quieter. Easier.

But it didn’t make his any easier.

Because now he was the one pretending. Pretending he wasn’t checking his phone. Pretending he didn’t replay the way she whispered his name that night at the cabin. Pretending he wasn’t still waiting for her to call or at least care.

Now here he was, about to walk into a room with her, with everyone, and lie with a straight face.

The room was warm with soft lights and music playing in the background. Phoebe had even managed to get a cake. Megan sat on the armrest of the couch, sipping tea with a small smile. Merlina was by the window, talking quietly with Keith.

The door opened and in walked Craig and Adriana.

Phoebe’s eyes went wide, all theatrical. "No way. He actually showed up!"

Megan blinked, half-smiling. "If the coldest guy in Belford shows up just to check on me, then yeah, my life is officially in shambles."

Everyone cracked up. Even Megan.

Craig gave a dry smirk. "Blame Adriana. She dragged me here."

"I did," Adriana said proudly, settling into the couch beside Megan, while giving her a gentle rub on her back.

Megan smiled at the both of them. "Thanks for coming."

Craig nodded, but his eyes didn’t settle on Megan. They drifted and settled on Merlina.

Their eyes slammed together, urgent, angry, aching. Merlina’s grip on her glass wavered, fingers trembling, nearly letting it fall like everything else in her life.