My chest tightened as I turned page after page, each one a reflection of my life through her eyes.Everymilestone,everyquiet moment,everyvictory I’d forgotten about—it was all here.
But when I reached the last page, I stopped.
I stared at it, my breath catching in my throat. I couldn’t keep looking. I couldn’t bear to. The weight of everything I’d just seen, the sheer effort she had poured into this scrapbook, was already overwhelming. It contradicted her actions. How could the same person who broke my trust do all this…forme?
My hands shook as I closed the book, the words on the final page left unread. I couldn’t look anymore. I couldn’t process it—not here, not now.
I set the scrapbook down on the bench beside me, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. My head hung low, and my chest felt tight, like it was holding too much.
She had made this for me. She had been making it for years. And I didn’t know how to feel about that.
For the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel angry. I didn’t feel betrayed. All I felt was the weight of her care, her sincerity shookthe ground beneath me, pressing against me, and I didn’t know what to do with it.
I needed time. Time to breathe. Time to figure out what this meant.
YESOH’s POV
Remi, Sydney, and I had gone out to a particularly fancy five-star restaurant called Gino’s for the night. It was cozy as it had a burning fireplace, its soft lighting and muted lull of conversation which was a welcome contrast to the cold New York night outside. I sat at the small table, nervously fiddling with the edge of the linen napkin in my lap. Remi and Sydney were across from me, their faces lit with excitement I didn’t quite feel in myself. Sydney wore a cozy red sweater and matching bows, Remi a black slip dress and lavish gold earrings and array of bracelets.
My performance for the ballet was the very next day and my stomach bubbled with apprehension and excitement.
“To our blushing, very deserving lead!” Sydney said suddenly, raising her glass of sparkling water. Her smile was wide and genuine, the kind that always made me feel like everything might be okay, even when it wasn’t.
“To the lead!” Remi echoed, clinking her glass against Sydney’s before turning to me. “Oh I genuinely might cry, Soh, you’ve come such a long way.”
I managed a small smile, lifting my own glass half-heartedly. “Thanks, guys.”
Sydney wasn’t satisfied with my lukewarm reaction. She leaned across the table, her brows furrowed. “Come on, this ismajor. You worked your ass off for this, and you did it. Why aren’t you more excited?”
“I am,” I said quickly, but the words felt hollow even to me.
Remi rolled her eyes, setting her glass down with a sigh. “You’re thinking about Wynter, aren’t you?”
I hesitated, my throat tightening, before I nodded.
Sydney exchanged a look with Remi, then reached under the table and pulled out a small, pale blue gift box with a white ribbon. My eyes widened as she placed it in front of me.
“What’s this?” I asked, blinking at the unmistakable Tiffany’s packaging.
“Open it,” Remi said, her lips curling into a sly smile.
I hesitated before carefully untying the ribbon and lifting the lid. Inside were a pair of delicate diamond stud earrings and a simple, elegant silver bracelet. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at them, my fingers brushing over the polished surface.
“I know you always tell me not to spoil you, that you don’t want anything and whatnot but please, best friend, silver glitters on you. It’d be a crime to reject them, you earned these,” Sydney said, her voice softer now. “They’re for you. For everything you’ve accomplished.”
Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away quickly. “God, Syd, you didn’t have to—”
“Of course we did,” Remi interrupted. “We put our coins together for you, you deserve it. And honestly, we wanted to see you smile, that beautiful smile.”
I laughed weakly, still clutching the box. “Thank you. Really.”
“But seriously,” Remi said, leaning forward, “have you talked to Wynter? Did he respond to the scrapbook?”
The question was like a punch to the gut. I swallowed hard, setting the box down carefully before meeting her gaze.
“No,” I said quietly, swallowing hard. “He never contacted me. Never said anything.”
Sydney’s face fell, her brows knitting together in concern. “He didn’t even call?”
