“I don’t know,” I whispered.
The truth was… I didn’t.
He hadn’t cheated.
He’d justleft.
Ghosted me three nights ago like I was a stranger. A phase. A bad idea.
“Not cheating. No,” Blondie answered for me, her voice Arctic-cold. “But he did leave her.”
It was a knife to the chest.
Carrie’s hands slammed down on the table, making us all jump. Blondie flinched.
“Just leave the coffees,” I said through tight lips. “Go.”
My eyes clung to the ceiling lights, to the gold glow swaying slightly with the wind from the front windows. Our bar. His dream. My money. Our memories.
“I hate to be a buzzkill,” Blondie chirped, “but it’s kinda creepy the ex and bestie are hanging around. Like, Blakey would never say it—but I will. It’s weird.”
He walked toward us, long strides full of familiar weight. My skin reacted on instinct—his presence, his sound, his breath. I felt him like a storm brewing.
“Like fuck he did,” Carrie snarled.
I couldn’t take her rage. It was too loud, too much.
“It’s—” I tried, but Blake cut me off.
His hand slid over Blondie’s back again.
Her smile?
Smug.
Victory.
Like she’d already won.
Fuck. Her.
I was wearing glasses, messy hair, oversized sweatpants, and the woman who couldn’t keep his baby alive.
“She was the last straw, wasn’t she?” I whispered. “The baby died, and so did we.”
His face crumpled.
“No, Penn. No. It’s not her.” He stepped forward, voice trembling. “It’s the shit in my head. I’m drowning. I couldn’t keep pretending. I had to let go.”
I reeled.
“You letmego,” I breathed. “You lethergo.”
My heart convulsed.
“Saying goodbye seems so forever,” he said, broken. “But pieces of me aren’t fair to you.”
The words twisted inside me.
