“Then don’t forget me,” I whispered.
“I couldn’t if I tried.”
Something in me twisted so sharply it felt like falling.
CHAPTER 39
TRU
I thought you found out who you were by who stood beside you. But it’s what you do when they’re not there that really shows you who you are.
The city smelledlike burnt coffee and ambition, and for once, I felt like I belonged in the middle of it.
I hadn’t stopped smiling in three days—not since the campaign launch, not since my name showed up in the official pitch deck underContent & Strategy.It was small, barely a line, but it felt like my whole damn future.
I knew I should’ve missed him more. But every time I looked up at those skyscrapers or heard the subway rumble beneath my feet, I felt something I hadn’t in years—free.
I was blooming. That was the only word for it. The city was chaos and concrete and glitter and grit, and I was growing wild in the cracks. My mornings were loud, my days full. And if Ididn’t slow down too long, I could almost forget what quiet used to feel like with him beside me.
Everyone here walked like they had somewhere better to be, and it made me want to earn my place in the crowd. I took the long way to the office just to pass the street art murals in Bushwick. My favorite was of two men, back-to-back, arms almost touching—one looking toward the skyline, the other looking back. It killed me every time. I told myself it was because of the art, not because I knew what it felt like to stand that close and never touch.
Still, I thrived. Or at least, I told myself I did. I did things I never would’ve done back home—pitched ideas, stayed late, grabbed coffee with coworkers who didn’t blink when I mentioned a boyfriend back in North Carolina. I laughed too loudly in public. I wore nail polish on Thursdays just because.
And I met Jasper.
He was older than me. Confident. Not flirty, exactly, but easy to be around. We were paired on a social impact campaign for LGBTQ+ youth in gaming, and he told me,“You’ve got a sharp eye. You could really do something with this”.His words sank like sunlight into my chest—warm, life-affirming, and hard to forget.
But at night, the shine always faded, because every night, Dare texted.
DARE: How was it today?
DARE: Did you eat?
DARE: I miss you
DARE: I miss you
DARE: I miss you
I stared at the screen until it blurred and typed:
Same.
Miss you too.
I didn’t tell him I’d gone hours without checking my phone. That I’d gone the whole day without thinking of him, too caught up in the rush. That I’d laughed at Jasper’s stupid story until my stomach hurt. That I’d loved it here today.
I sent a photo of the mural, the men almost touching. He didn’t ask what it meant.
Later, when the city slept, I crawled into the borrowed twin bed in my roommate’s overpriced apartment. I thought of Dare’s arms, his shoulders, the way he always smelled like clean laundry and summer sweat and home. The way he’d always waited until I fell asleep first, as if he was standing guard.
I closed my eyes and dreamed of him. Not the way he was now, desperate and trying, but the way he’d been when we first kissed in the dark.
My best friend. My other half. Easy. Free. Confident.
Before everything crashed and burned.
I didn’t call. I told myself it was because I was tired. Because it was late. Because he was probably asleep. Because it had only been a day. Two. Three.
