My books are stacked beside it. Dog-eared and well-loved. A mix of swoony classics and spicy paperbacks with bent covers and cracked spines. I reach for them carefully, running my fingers over the titles as I tuck them into a tote bag.
I want to laugh. Or scream. Or throw them all across the room.
But I just keep packing.
Bernard gets nestled in last, tucked protectively around the books like it's still doing its job. Still keeping me safe.
The room is empty of me now. Stripped bare of all the cozy little touches I brought with me. No more fuzzy textures or stacks of books. Just Ash’s cool minimalism.
Just the way he likes it.
I glance around once more. Check the bathroom for my toothbrush, the charger near the bed, the little jar of moisturizer he kept stealing from because he “liked the smell.”
Gone. All packed.
I zip the final suitcase closed and wipe my hands on my thighs like I’ve just completed some impossible task. My chest still aches. My eyes sting, but the tears are slow this time. Heavy, quiet things that fall one at a time.
I grab my phone. I can’t stay at Liam’s—and I don’t want to face him right now. I’m too embarrassed. Because he was right. Right about everything.
So I call Nina. She answers on the first ring. “Hey. Can I stay with you for a bit?”
I open the door and walk out.
I don’t look back.
30
ASH
Gone
The city hums beneath my feet as I run, pushing harder, faster, like I can outrun the weight lodged in my chest.
The slap of my sneakers against pavement. The heat in my lungs. The sweat dripping down my spine. It’s all noise and movement and rhythm—something I can control. Something that doesn’t ask for anything back.
Unlike her.
I take the long loop through the hills, past palm trees and stucco mansions, earbuds in but nothing playing. My thoughts are louder than anything music could drown out anyway.
She said she loved me.
And I didn’t say a damn thing.
Because it wasn’t supposed to happen.That’s what I tell myself.
We had a deal. A clear one. I chose someone safe. Simple. Someone who wouldn’t fall forme. That was the whole point.
And Olive—God, Olive with her messy buns and nervous laughs and heart too big for her body—she was never supposed tomatterlike that.
Except she did.
She does.
No. Don’t go there.I shake my head hard and speed up, my calves burning as I hit the last stretch toward my building. It’s better this way. She knew the deal. She’ll bounce back. She always does.
And me? I’ll go inside, shower, eat something, and we’ll reset. Back to just faking it. No feelings. No fooling around.
Clean. Controlled.
