Her voice was shaking with anger.
Mine was quiet. “I’m not trying to—”
“No,” Jennie cut in, hard. “You are. You don’t even see it. You being there means she has to remember everything. You can’t fix what you destroyed, Joshua. So stop trying to make yourself feel better by staying close.”
I clenched my jaw, feeling the words hit one by one, all deserved, all painful.
Aly crossed her arms tighter, her voice lowering but no less vicious. “No matter what life you get, or how many chances, you’ll never deserve her. So do her a favour and give her peace. Let her be happy for once. Let her stop worrying about getting hurt again.”
Silence.
Long, suffocating silence.
I just stood there, taking every word.
Jennie glared for a second longer before turning away. Aly followed, heels clicking, fury echoing behind her.
Layla didn’t leave right away.
She just stood there for a second, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her cardigan, the winter wind pushing her hair slightly across her face.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, not like Aly’s fury or Jennie’s bite; it was calm, like she was talking to someone who needed to hear the truth, not punishment.
“Aurora trusts too easily,” she said quietly. “Because she has a heart of gold.”
I looked down at her. She wasn’t glaring. She wasn’t judging. She was just… being honest. And somehow, that made it worse.
Layla’s eyes lifted to meet mine. “If you really care about her, Joshua, then don’t give up. Keep trying to be better. Keep proving that she didn’t make a mistake letting you in again.”
Her voice wavered slightly, barely audible over the wind. “But if you know deep down you can’t change, if you’ll only end up hurting her again, then please… do her a favour and walk away before it’s too late.”
She didn’t wait for me to answer. She just gave a small nod and turned, walking after her friends.
And I stood there, frozen in the middle of the pathway, Layla’s words sinking into every quiet, ugly part of me that still doubted I could ever be someone worth staying for.
If I could truly change. If I deserved the second chance she gave me when she didn’t have to. If Aurora—soft, forgiving, heart-of-gold Aurora—was only setting herself up to be broken again.
I ran my hand through my hair and let out a breath that trembled.
Layla was right. Every word.
But what if this new version of me was just temporary? What if I slipped back? What if trying wasn’t enough?
I looked toward her, and she was smiling up at the girls,really smilingup at them as they were sitting down next to her on the bleachers. Being something to her I could never be.
If you can’t change… please, walk away.
Could I change?
Could I really be different from the boy who broke her?
I wanted to believe I could. God, I wanted to.
But when I looked at my hands—the same hands that had hurt her, the same ones that once trembled in guilt and rage—all I could think was, what if I fail again?
What if the only thing I’m good at is ruining good things?
I turned away from the field, from the echo of her laughter that used to fill it. My chest ached, a dull heaviness pressing against my ribs as I started walking away.
