“I miss you,” she whispers against my hair. “I miss the Ella who lights up every room she walks into. Don’t let this—” she squeezes me a little harder “—dim your light, okay?”
My throat closes, emotion catching me off guard.
Then, true to form, Ashton pulls back, eyes my half-empty pretzel bag, and smirks. “Also, if you were going to spiral, you could’ve at least called me. We could’ve spiraled together. With better snacks.”
A laugh bursts out of me, shaky but real. The first in weeks.
And just like that, the weight lifts, if only a little.
By the time we’re three episodes deep intoFriendsand the ice cream carton is nothing but melted streaks at the bottom, the silence between us grows heavy.
Finally, I break it. My voice sounds smaller than I mean it to.
“I think it’s time to move on. I guess… Nathan and I weren’t meant to be. After everything that’s happened, it’s time to let go,” I say, trying to convince myself that there is any truth to what I just said.
For once, Ashton doesn’t volley back with a sarcastic quip or a sharp-witted joke. Instead, her expression softens, her eyes shining in the dim light of the TV. She reaches over, lays her hand gently on mine, and says quietly, “Unfortunately, I thinkyou’re right. It’s time to walk away from this. Some things just… aren’t meant to be.”
The words sting more than I want to admit.
I lean into her, and she wraps me in a steady hug, grounding. A single tear slips free, trailing down my cheek as I press my face against her shoulder.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself feel the weight of it, of love lost, of moving on, and the ache of finally saying it out loud.
Chapter 41
Ella
Another day in pajamas, caramel ice cream for breakfast, and reruns playing in the background. Dr. Doom sits on the shelf judging me. Stuart, the betta fish, is thriving. I am… not.
At some point, lying here stops feeling like rest and starts feeling like sinking.
I stare at the ceiling for a while, then at the wall, then finally decide that doinganythingis better than doing this.
So, I check the mail.
The hallway feels too quiet. The elevator ride feels long. I catch my reflection in the mirrored wall and barely recognize the girl staring back.
There was a time when elevator rides meant something. When checking the mail meant something.
Now it’s just… movement.
The mailbox is mostly junk. Flyers. Bills. A coupon for something I will never buy. I carry the small stack back upstairs and dump it onto my counter, flipping through without much interest.
And then I see the return address. My breath catches—the big cat sanctuary. I already know what it says. Of course. Another no. Anotherthank you for your interest.
I almost don’t open it, but I do.
I slide my finger under the flap, pull the letter free, and start reading. Halfway through the first paragraph, I can’t believe it.
We are pleased to inform you that due to a recent cancellation, a position has become available…
I read it again. And again. My heart starts pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. They’re offering me the spot.
They’re actually offering me the spot.
I sink onto the edge of the couch, staring at the letter like it might vanish if I blink. This is it—the thing I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. My hands are shaking when I grab my phone. I call Ashton.
She picks up on the second ring. “Hey?—”
