He Loved Me Under a Spell - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading He Loved Me Under a Spell, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of He Loved Me Under a Spell.
I slipped the ring off my finger and cocked my head at him. "Because I don't love you anymore."
The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating.
I shoved him back. "I've said all I need to say. Don't come after me again."
As I turned to leave, Liam caught my wrist. "Sarah, just one more chance?"
I met his gaze, lips curling into a mocking smile. "Which Sarah are you even begging for?"
Wrenching free, I strode toward the door—only to find Jake standing there.
His expression flickered from shock to concern in an instant. "Heard your voice. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
I gave a curt nod and brushed past him.
After that, Liam vanished.
He stopped showing up on campus, retreating into therapy sessions instead. Rumor had it he'd spiraled into depression—haunted by the face of a woman he couldn't remember loving.
With Liam gone, Jake seeped into my life like smoke under a door. He was careful, perceptive, never pushing too hard. Where Liam had been wildfire—all grand gestures and public proclamations—Jake was the slow creep of dawn, claiming me inch by inch.
By the time I noticed, he was everywhere.
A coffee pressed into my hands after class. "New hot pot spot opened nearby. Feel like trying it?"
He memorized my quirks: how I craved spice but paid for it later, so yogurt and antacids materialized without asking.
I never wore the ring around Jake.
To him, I was just me.
Maybe, I thought, the ring was obsolete now.
Maybe I'd found someone who actually saw me.
Six months in, we graduated. Jake's connections landed me a dream job at a tech giant. The day I signed my full-time offer, he proposed.
I said yes.
As he beamed at me, I tilted my head. "Jake... do you love me?"
He pulled me close, laughing softly. "Of course I love you, silly."
Then I drew the ring from my pocket. My final test.
Jake's eyes flicked to it. "When'd you get that? It's stunning."
I made him turn around. He obeyed, humming as he counted down: "Three... two... one... turning now—"
His smile shattered.
For one heartbeat, raw revulsion twisted his features—then smoothed back into warmth.
I batted my lashes, voice saccharine. "How do I look now?"
A beat. "Same as always."
I giggled, covering my mouth. "Obviously, dummy."
Then my tone turned razor-sharp.
"The Sarah I knew wasn't like this. It's disgusting—I wasted six months on that thing! What the hell even are you?!"
"Because I never loved you, Jake."
"Goodbye."
His face drained of color. I yanked free, snatching my bag as his shouts chased me out.
Back when Jake first started circling me, Liam had tracked me down.
Gaunt and hollow-eyed, he'd blurted a warning: "Don't trust him. Jake's last girlfriend died in a crash. He's using you."
I'd thanked him coolly. As I walked away, he choked out one last thing—
"Sarah, I'm sorry..."
Behind me, a broken man clutched his chest, mouthing words too late to matter:
I love you.
That night, my coworkers toasted my promotion.
One nudged my hand. "Boyfriend give you that ring? It's killer."
I flashed a grin, wiggling my fingers. "What boyfriend? I bought it myself."
"Then why's it on your middle finger? That's the single-lady spot."
I pressed the ring to my lips, smiling.
"Because I'm the one I love most."
"Ladies—never forget to put yourself first."
The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating.
I shoved him back. "I've said all I need to say. Don't come after me again."
As I turned to leave, Liam caught my wrist. "Sarah, just one more chance?"
I met his gaze, lips curling into a mocking smile. "Which Sarah are you even begging for?"
Wrenching free, I strode toward the door—only to find Jake standing there.
His expression flickered from shock to concern in an instant. "Heard your voice. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
I gave a curt nod and brushed past him.
After that, Liam vanished.
He stopped showing up on campus, retreating into therapy sessions instead. Rumor had it he'd spiraled into depression—haunted by the face of a woman he couldn't remember loving.
With Liam gone, Jake seeped into my life like smoke under a door. He was careful, perceptive, never pushing too hard. Where Liam had been wildfire—all grand gestures and public proclamations—Jake was the slow creep of dawn, claiming me inch by inch.
By the time I noticed, he was everywhere.
A coffee pressed into my hands after class. "New hot pot spot opened nearby. Feel like trying it?"
He memorized my quirks: how I craved spice but paid for it later, so yogurt and antacids materialized without asking.
I never wore the ring around Jake.
To him, I was just me.
Maybe, I thought, the ring was obsolete now.
Maybe I'd found someone who actually saw me.
Six months in, we graduated. Jake's connections landed me a dream job at a tech giant. The day I signed my full-time offer, he proposed.
I said yes.
As he beamed at me, I tilted my head. "Jake... do you love me?"
He pulled me close, laughing softly. "Of course I love you, silly."
Then I drew the ring from my pocket. My final test.
Jake's eyes flicked to it. "When'd you get that? It's stunning."
I made him turn around. He obeyed, humming as he counted down: "Three... two... one... turning now—"
His smile shattered.
For one heartbeat, raw revulsion twisted his features—then smoothed back into warmth.
I batted my lashes, voice saccharine. "How do I look now?"
A beat. "Same as always."
I giggled, covering my mouth. "Obviously, dummy."
Then my tone turned razor-sharp.
"The Sarah I knew wasn't like this. It's disgusting—I wasted six months on that thing! What the hell even are you?!"
"Because I never loved you, Jake."
"Goodbye."
His face drained of color. I yanked free, snatching my bag as his shouts chased me out.
Back when Jake first started circling me, Liam had tracked me down.
Gaunt and hollow-eyed, he'd blurted a warning: "Don't trust him. Jake's last girlfriend died in a crash. He's using you."
I'd thanked him coolly. As I walked away, he choked out one last thing—
"Sarah, I'm sorry..."
Behind me, a broken man clutched his chest, mouthing words too late to matter:
I love you.
That night, my coworkers toasted my promotion.
One nudged my hand. "Boyfriend give you that ring? It's killer."
I flashed a grin, wiggling my fingers. "What boyfriend? I bought it myself."
"Then why's it on your middle finger? That's the single-lady spot."
I pressed the ring to my lips, smiling.
"Because I'm the one I love most."
"Ladies—never forget to put yourself first."
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