That wasn’t fake.
But it also wasn’t enough.
And the worst part?
She deserves someone who doesn’t have to try this hard.
And Stella?
She’s not even here.
And she still owns space in my chest like she never left.
I drag a hand over my face.
Exhale hard.
Because this?
This is going to get messy.
And I’m right in the middle of it.
She doesn’t let me walk her all the way up.
“I can manage,” Isa says, shifting slightly on the crutches, chin tipped up like she’s daring me to argue. “I want to make an entrance, remember?”
I huff a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you like it.”
Yeah.
I do.
I watch her make her way toward the building anyway—slow, controlled, every movement deliberate. Even injured, she carries herself like she’s stepping onto a stage.
Heads turn.
They always do.
She glances back once over her shoulder, eyes finding mine.
“Don’t take too long, Vale.”
Not a question.
An expectation.
I give her ten minutes.
Then I’m inside.
Her place is… exactly what I should expect.
Spotless.
Not a thing out of place.
