She had told me exactly what this was.
I was the idiot who heard her laugh in my kitchen and rewrote the contract in my head.
I was the idiot who let her wear my jersey and thought it meant something.
I was the idiot who brought her to Miami, watched her cook Thanksgiving with me, and thought—mine.
I was the idiot who whispered I wasn’t letting her go and believed I could love her hard enough for both of us until she caught up.
My hands moved before my head did.
Shirt folded. Jeans. Hoodie. Toiletries. Charger. Everything neat. Everything controlled. If I packed carefully enough, maybe I wouldn’t break something.
Maybe I wouldn’t go downstairs and say things I couldn’t take back.
Maybe I wouldn’t ask Isa to choose me while her mother sat across from her with coffee and a predator’s smile.
I booked the flight with fingers that didn’t feel like mine.
Dallas to Denver.
Jace’s family place near Vail.
He’d offered weeks ago when he heard I was doing Christmas with Isa’s family and laughed like he knew disaster was inevitable.
Come out if it gets weird, bro. My mom feeds strays.
I guess I was a stray now.
My thumb hovered over the confirmation.
Then pressed.
Done.
My bag sat open on the bed.
Almost packed.
Then I remembered the gift.
I pulled it from the inside pocket of my duffel.
Small box. Silver paper. White ribbon. Her name on the tag.
I sat on the edge of the mattress with it in both hands.
For a few seconds, I just held it.
Couldn’t pack it.
Couldn’t throw it away.
Couldn’t leave with it either.
It wasn’t expensive enough to impress her mother. Wasn’t flashy enough to prove anything. It wouldn’t make a gossip account blink or get Mrs. Calloway’s eyes sparkling with plans.
The bedroom door opened.
