Before I had time to suck in a breath, his arms wrapped around my thighs, and I was hoisted in the frosty air, spinning around, the breeze catching in my hair.
"Cora fucking Holland I knew it! I knew you could do it, angel!"
Giggles spewed out of me as I watched him, my hands clutching his neck, and my eyes traced every ounce of happiness that deepened his smile.
When he finally set me down, his hands lingered at my waist, holding me steady as the world kept spinning. My breath came out in clouds, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and my heart thudded so loud it drowned out everything else.
“I can’t believe it,” I breathed, hand on my chest. “Marcus, I actually did it. I got the scholarship.”
He was beaming, eyes glinting in the porch light. “Youearnedit. Every second, every night, you tried and fought—this is yours, angel.”
The warmth in his voice made my throat tighten. He’d been there for every moment I wanted to quit, every time I’d thought I wasn’t enough. And now—this.
But then something shifted behind his eyes, subtle and small. A flicker of realisation that changed the air between us.
“Wait,” he said softly. “Have you… chosen where you’ll study?”
I blinked, my smile faltering just a little. “Yeah,” I said. “London.”
The word drifted into the cold, curling in the air between us like smoke.
His grin wavered, just for a second, before he forced it back, gentler now. “London,” he repeated, his voice quieter. “That’s… amazing.”
“It feels like home,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “That trip… it reminded me of how in love with it I still am."
He nodded, his thumb brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. “You should go." He nodded down at me. "You deserve that, Cora. You deserve to chaseit all.”
“I’m not letting you go, Marcus.” The words came out small but certain. "Just in case you thought—"
"I'm not going anywhere." His gaze softened instantly, something deep and steady flickering there as his hand slid to my jaw. “I'm going to watch you take on the world on your own, because you can." The soft pad of his thumb skimmed my cheek. "And when I miss you—"
"You call me."
He nodded. "I'll call you."
My face scrunched. "I am also demanding that you visit me at least once a month. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've grown rather fond of you."
Marcus' head shook as he licked away my favourite smile. "I had a hunch." Suddenly my hand was in his, the back of it pressed against his mouth like a promise. "I'll fly to you whenever, if you need me…"
I nodded, tracing the stars in his eyes. "I'll call."
He leaned in before I could blink—slow, sure, heartbreak threaded through every inch of him. His other hand slipped behind my neck, fingers splayed against my skin, holding me like he was trying to memorise the feel of me before I slipped away.
When his lips found mine, it wasn’t desperate. It was steady. Certain. A goodbye wrapped in a vow. The kind of kiss that saidI’ll wait. I’ll be there.
My fingers fisted in his jacket, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the world rush between us just yet. He tasted like winter and everything I’d ever trusted.
When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, breaths mingling in the cold. He didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t need to.
Because this wasn’t goodbye. Not for us.
But I couldn’t say the same for my friends.
I wasn’t coming back until halfway through senior year, and though my chest ached at the thought, I felt wind-swept too—like the storm had passed and left something new in its wake. We’d been through so much, all of us. Love, loss, beginnings that never stopped shaking the ground beneath us.
And somehow, even as I stood there under the porch light, his kiss still warm on my lips, I could feel it—something was already shifting.
Especially for Daisy.
