Play it safe, Lockhart.
That’s what I told myself.
If I couldn’t promise to stay steady, to stay kind, then maybe the safest thing I could do for her… was to stay away. Because she deserved steady. She deserved safe. She deserved peace, not a man still haunted by what he broke.
So I kept walking.
Didn’t look back.
Maybe this was what change really looked like: not chasing, not clinging, just… letting go before I destroyed her all over again.
Even if it meant being the one left standing in the dark.
—
Aurora
He was right there.
Across the hallway, tall, quiet, familiar. The way he always looked before I called out to him, before he’d turn just slightly, that tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth whenever he noticed me first.
Except this time…
He didn’t.
“Hey,” I called softly.
He stopped, turned his head, not fully, just enough for his eyes to flicker toward me.
For a heartbeat, it was like before.
The way he always looked at me, that still, unreadable expression that somehow felt like something. But then it changed.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. His voice was low, careful, clipped, as if he’d rehearsed it. “I’m late for class. We’ll talk later, yeah?”
And before I could nod, before I could even say anything back, he was already walking past.
Past me.
Like I wasn’t there.
Like I was air.
I turned slightly, watching the back of his head disappear into the crowd, and my stomach twisted in a way I couldn’t name.
He didn’t look back. Not once.
I tried to tell myself it was fine; he was just busy, he said later. But something in his voice… that final, practised calm, it didn’t sound like later.
It sounded like goodbye.
I forced a smile. Just small enough to hide the sting sitting somewhere under my ribs.
He was probably just late, truly. He always walked fast when he had somewhere to be, and I didn’t want to be that person who overthought every glance, every pause in his tone.
Besides… we were hanging out this Friday, anyway.
He said yes. He promised.
