The words hit like a slap.
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” he snaps. “You think this is love? You think this is real? It’s not. It’s confusion. It’s adrenaline. It’s?—”
“It’s not!” My voice breaks now, tears spilling over before I can stop them. “You don’t get to tell me what I feel!”
“I absolutely do when it comes to him,” he shoots back, his voice rising again.
My chest tightens painfully.
“Why?” I demand. “Because you said so? Because you decided this isn’t allowed?”
“Because I know him,” he says, his eyes flicking briefly past me—toward Garrison. “And I know exactly what kind of mistake this is.”
That does it. I turn. Garrison is standing a few feet away. Silent. His jaw tight. His eyes on me. The look on his face breaks something inside of me. Because he’s not fighting this. He’s notarguing. He’s just… standing there. Like he’s already accepted it. Like he’s already losing me.
“Say something,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
His eyes soften slightly. But he doesn’t move.
“Willow,” he says quietly.
That’s it. Just my name. And somehow— It feels like goodbye.
“No,” I breathe, shaking my head. “No, don’t do that—don’t just stand there like this is over?—”
“Willow,” my dad’s voice cuts in sharply.
Before I can react— His hand wraps around my wrist. Firm. Unyielding.
“We’re leaving.”
I yank slightly, startled. “Wait—no?—”
“Now.”
“Dad, stop?—”
But he’s already pulling me. Dragging me toward the exit.
“Emma—” I call, twisting to look back at her.
She hesitates for a second—Then follows. And I’m being pulled away. Away from him.
“Garrison!” I shout, my voice breaking as I try to pull free.
He doesn’t move. He just stands there. Watching me. His expression tight. Controlled. Like he’s holding himself back from something.
“Do something!” I cry.
But he doesn’t. He can’t. Because of the promise. Because of my dad. Because of everything.
And I feel it then—I should feel whole. But the distance growing between Garrison and I is breaking my heart. He’s becoming smaller in the distance. I feel like I’m losing something just as important. Something I might never get back.
The doors swing open. The outside air hits my face. And just like that—He’s gone. I stand a few feet away from the shelterentrance, my arms wrapped tightly around myself, trying to hold everything in.
Dad is a short distance away, pacing near the curb, one hand raised as he tries to flag down a passing car.
