I stared at the screen until it dimmed.
Then, I turned it face down.
I didn’t have the energy to call back.
Didn’t have the energy to be the scholarship girl, the hard worker, the shadowing student, the girl who keeps holding it together.
I just wanted… quiet. The same quiet he once called peace. But right now, it just felt like nothing.
My gaze travelled around the dullness of my room until it landed on something. Folded at the end of my bed like it had been waiting for me.
His jacket.
The one he threw around me that night when I tried to return the money.
I stared at it for a long time.
It wasn’t even mine. I should’ve given it back. Should’ve left it in his apartment before I left this morning.
But I didn’t. I must’ve just…forgotten.
And the envelope…
It sat right beside it, edges slightly bent from being carried around too much. He’d told me to keep it.
I hadn’t taken the money out since.
Couldn’t.
I didn’t want to take his pity or whatever.
I reached for the jacket instead. The fabric was heavier than I remembered, soft but stiff from the cold air.
When I pulled it into my arms, it felt… safe. Wrong but safe. I pressed my face into it before I could stop myself, and the stupid tears started burning behind my eyes again. I hated that it still smelled like him. I hated that I missed the person who broke me.
My fingers curled into the sleeve, holding on tighter than I should. I wasn’t sure if I was holding on because I missed him or because I missed who I thought he was. Either way, I hugged it to my chest, buried my face in it, and let my body sink into the mattress.
Tonight, I needed to rest.I thought to myself.
Just a few hours without thinking. Just me and the quiet. And the jacket that didn’t belong to me.
—
Joshua
Monday came too fast.
I barely slept, just lay there, staring at the ceiling, counting every hour between night and morning.
Campus felt different. The cold hit sharper, the noise around me too loud. Every laugh, every voice grated against my nerves.
Then I heard him.
“Leave her alone.”
Alex’s voice. Sharp. Flat.
I turned, frowning. “I didn’t—”
