Jack's POV
It was torture standing in front of the class, pretending to focus on my discussion while every fiber of my being was pulled toward her. Charlotte. She sat there, calm and composed, eyes fixed on her notes—or maybe anywhere but me. And yet, I could feel her presence like gravity, drawing all my thoughts away from the topic at hand.
I wanted her to look at me the way she used to—like I was her whole world. That spark in her eyes, the soft curve of her smile when I teased her, the way her hand would absentmindedly reach for mine when she was nervous. God, I missed that.
