I look down at Greg, then back at Riya. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“I think grand gestures are overrated, but small consistent ones matter more than people realize.” She opens the door. “Plus, that plant has probably seen more action than most college guys. Might be good luck.”
This time I do smile. “Thanks, Riya.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when you stop being an emotionally constipated disaster and actually talk to each other.”
I set Greg on their coffee table, right next to Piper’s laptop. He looks oddly at home there, like he belongs in this space that smells like the vanilla candle. It feels oddly sad to leave him, right after I got him back. He really has been my emotional support plant. But if Riya is right, and Piper is currently sorting her shit out, then maybe she needs him more than I do right now. And also, it seems like she has been taking a good care of him since I left him here. Maybe, thinking about me while she's doing it.
Pip—
I’ve written this letter twelve times. Nothing feels adequate after what I said to you.
I called my mom last night. Told her everything—about us, about the review, about what I said. She was quiet for a long time, then asked me one question: “Did you mean it?”
I didn’t. Not a single word.
You’re nothing like Paige. Paige liedbecause she didn’t care. You kept a secret because you cared too much. I can see that now, but in that moment, all I could feel was the panic of being blindsided again.
What I said about Miles choosing Harper—Pip, that was unforgivable. I took your deepest insecurity and weaponized it because I was hurting. That’s exactly what my dad does to me, and I swore I’d never be that person. But I was. I became the thing I hate most.
The truth is, your review made my game better. Made ME better. You saw what was broken and had the courage to say it, even to a stranger. That takes strength. And when you realized it was mine, you were probably terrified of hurting me. I understand that now.
I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m not sure I deserve it. But I need you to know…you are enough. You’ve always been enough. Miles was too blind to see it, and for one horrible moment, I was too.
But here’s what I see when I’m not being a defensive asshole?—
I see someone who cares so deeply she’ll spend six hours on a stranger’s game just to help them improve. I see someone who doesn’t let people in easily, but once you get past her layers, it’s worth every second of patience it took to get there.
Because you, Piper Renner, are not easy. You’re brilliant and challenging and you demand honesty even when it terrifies you. That’s not a flaw. That’s what makes you extraordinary.
Thank you for taking care of Greg.
If you’re willing to talk, I’m ready to listen. Really listen this time. But if you need me to stay away, I understand that too.
I’m sorry doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s where I start.
—E
P.S. Greg says the lighting in your apartment is superior to mine, so he’d like to continue staying here for a while, if that’s ok.
I say goodbye to Riya and leave the note propped against Greg’s pot and let myself out, walking slowly back toward my house. The afternoon sun is warm on my face, and for the first time in days, the knot in my chest loosens slightly.
I don’t know what Piper and Miles are talking about. I don’t know what she’ll decide when she gets home and finds Greg and my note waiting for her.
But I know I’ve done what I can do. I’ve apologized without demanding forgiveness, offered support without expecting anything in return.
Now I have to do the hardest thing of all: Wait and trust that what we have is worth fighting for.
Even if I’m the only one fighting.
My phone buzzes as I reach the corner. For a wild second, hope flares—maybe it’s Piper, maybe she’s ready to talk.
But it’s just Troy, asking if I want to go to the gym then grab dinner.
Yeah. But I might be terrible company.
When are you ever good company? See you at 6.
