nightstand, and his chest ti

... you sho

at him-reply, explain, beg for understanding-but another, quieter voice-the one that had begun to grow la

with hope instead of clenching with dread. Back then, he would have typed apology after apology, even when he didn't know wha

were diff

ary he dared not cross. His thumb trembled over the keyboard before he final

agged him along, insisting he needed a break from Rose's shadow. James hadn't

er eyes had sparkled as she smiled at him, a light so unexpected it ma

at of music from unseen speakers. James remembered feeling out of place, tense in his own skin, weighed down by invisible chains. Ben had babbled endlessly about sneakers,

him had shifted

without effort, without pretense. And yet... Rose's image flashed repeatedly in his mind, sharp and uninvited. The betrayal still stung. Collins. O

much he sti

efusing to leave even when the reality had changed irreversibly. Rose hadn't simply been a girlfriend. She had been a s

ames's shoulders and the shadow dark

Rose... she's texting again.

what? For feeling hurt? For finally stepping back?

he cheated. You don't owe her a thing. And remember-you met som

sparkle in her eyes. The way she had laughed at his stupid jokes without reservation. The way

iv

tending, of numbing himself against the pain, had drained him. Benita had remin

is words faltered. He couldn't finish. He couldn't articulate the truth that hovered uncomfortably at the edge of consciousn

. Seriously, man. She's not your future. She's a memory. Benita... she'

n. Memory. Future. The contrast wa

d drawn him out of the shadows without even trying. She had made him laugh, made him feel lightness he hadn't known in weeks. P

phone and typed, though t

't stay where I'm not wanted. I hop

final, like a door gently closing on a c

her

e just going t

n, exhaling slowly, deliberately. He let the night wash over him, the quiet hum of the city beyond

out at the fading evening sky. The sun had disappeared, leaving streaks of indigo and amber, and somewhe

impossible to move forward. Not entirely. Not completely. There was ro

ut undeniable stirring-a spark that whispered of beginnings,

ell apart, James didn't feel like he

like the

ed in glass, he knew he had a choice: to linger in the shadows

en memory and h

ime in months, felt like so