He looked like he wanted to argue again, but I’d had enough. I turned away, pulling my hood up as I started walking.
“Joshua,” he called out behind me, voice calm but firm. “You’re making a mistake.”
“But it’s mine to make.”
It fucking sucked that everyone suddenly decided to see the truth now. Now, when the damage had already been done.
When she’d already cried herself empty.
—
Aurora
The girls promised they’d talk to him.
Aly said they’d make it right. Jennie said they’d tell him everything. Layla said he’d come around once he knew the truth.
I believed them. God, I needed to.
So when I saw them walking toward me after class, with Alex right behind, my chest started beating too fast. My hands went clammy, and my stomach twisted, because this was it. This was the moment everything would either start to heal… or end for good.
But the second I saw their faces, the guilt, the quiet pity… I already knew. Aly’s eyes dropped first. Jennie’s hands fidgeted. Layla bit her lip as if she were trying to stop herself from crying. Alex stood behind them, silent, as if even he didn’t know what to say.
I didn’t even need to ask.
“He said no,” I whispered, voice breaking halfway through.
The girls didn’t answer. They didn’t have to. They just nodded slightly, heads bowed.
My throat burned instantly. My eyes stung before I could even blink. And suddenly I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I covered my mouth with my hand, but the sob slipped out anyway.
Layla reached for me first, but I stepped back, shaking my head.
“He’s really not coming back,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
Aly’s face crumpled. “Aurora—”
My legs went weak, and before I knew it, Jennie’s arms were around me, holding me up as I broke apart.
“I thought he’d come back,” I cried into her shoulder. “I thought—I thought if he knew the truth, he’d come back.”
Alex looked away, jaw tight, eyes filled with something that looked too much like regret. But it didn’t matter anymore; nothing did because I lost him. Fully.
Everything around me blurred. The field, the noise, the people. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing, broken, uneven, too fast.
Alex’s voice cut through softly.
“Hey,” he said to the girls, his tone firm but calm. “Go. I’ll take care of her.”
They hesitated, glancing between us, but one look from him, and they nodded, leaving quietly.
Alex guided me away from the benches, down the path and behind the old tree near the back of the field, the one that blocked most of the view. It was quiet there. Secluded. The kind of quiet where you could finally fall apart without everyone watching.
He crouched in front of me as I sank to the grass, tears already streaming down my face again. I tried to hide it, but Alex wasn’t having it.
“Hey. Look at me,” he said softly, his hand brushing under my chin, tilting my face up.
I shook my head, whispering, “It’s over. He—he doesn’t want me anymore.”
