“I mean it,” I interrupted, my tone sharper now. “You were right about everything. I didn’t deserve her. Still don’t.”
Jennie opened her mouth to speak, but I didn’t give her the chance.
“I broke her. Over and over. You don’t come back from that. Not really.” I met their eyes then, all three of them. “She deserves peace. She deserves better. And if that means me staying away, then fine.”
Layla looked like she wanted to argue, but I shook my head before she could.
“It wasn’t worth it,” I said quietly, the words coming out colder than I meant them to. “None of this was worth it if she’s hurt again.”
And before any of them could speak again, I walked.
I heard Aly call my name first. Then Jennie. Then all three together.
But I didn’t stop.
They were right.
I didn’t deserve her. And I never would.
I didn’t make it far before another voice stopped me.
“Josh.”
Alex.
Of course.
He was leaning against one of the benches near the path, arms crossed, watching me with that unreadable look that always pissed me off, calm, patient, like he was waiting for me to blow up.
“What?” I muttered, voice rough.
He pushed off the bench and walked over, lowering his voice when he got close. “Jennie told me. About what happened. And I’m guessing they just talked to you.”
I scoffed. “Of course they did.”
“They were wrong, man. You know that, right?”
I laughed once, humourless. “Funny. Everyone keeps saying that lately.”
Alex frowned. “Joshua—”
“No, really. It’s fucking funny,” I snapped, turning to face him fully. “First, they tell me I’m not enough, that I’ll never deserve her. That I should leave her the hell alone before I ruin her again. So I do. I do the one fucking thing everyone begged me to do.” I gestured vaguely toward the campus. “And now? Now everyone suddenly has a change of heart?”
Alex didn’t say anything, just stared.
I kept going, the words spilling out faster now, sharper. “Now they tell me I should go get her back. That she misses me. That maybe I’m worth something again?” I shook my head, scoffing. “Fuck off, Alex. It’s too late.”
“Josh—”
“No,” I cut him off, voice cracking, but I didn’t care. “You don’t get it. None of you do. You weren’t there when I had to look her in the eyes and tell her to leave. You didn’t hear her crying through the fucking door. You didn’t feel it when you knew you'd just lost the only person who made you want to be better.”
Alex’s expression softened, but I couldn’t stop now.
“You all made me realise it, didn’t you? That I didn’t deserve her.” My voice dropped, low and raw. “And I believed it. I still do. Because maybe I really don’t. Maybe it’s better this way.”
Alex sighed. “You’re stubborn as hell, you know that?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “And you’re too hopeful for your own good.”
