Still, I wanted to believe that if I just stood there long enough, she would appear in the window, look down, see me.
But the window stayed dark.
And I stayed alone.
---
When I finally turned to go, the night was cold against my skin, the stars sharp overhead.
I walked without thinking, hands shoved deep in my pockets, head down, heart dragging behind me like an anchor.
And as I walked, I whispered her name under my breath, over and over, like maybe if I said it enough, the universe would hear.
Like maybe if I said it enough, she’d come back.
Chapter 48
Brittany
I stared at the ceiling, eyes wide open though the night was heavy and silent around me. The moonlight slanted through the half-closed blinds, spilling pale silver across my bedroom floor. My chest ached, but not from any physical wound — it was the hollow kind of ache, the one that doesn’t quite let you breathe right, the one that curls around your heart and tightens when you remember what you’ve lost.
Ace.
His name alone was enough to start the war inside me all over again. My fingers dug into the blanket as I forced myself to turn over, pulling it over my head like it could block out the memory of his voice. The knock on the door last night. The one before. The night before that.
Every single time, I had stood there on the other side of the door, fists clenched, jaw locked, eyes squeezed shut, listening to him whisper my name like a broken prayer.
“Brittany… baby, please… just open the door. Just five minutes. I’ll take whatever you can give me.”
I pressed my forehead to the cool wooden door, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. But I never turnedthe handle. Never gave in. Because the moment I did, I knew I would break.
I couldn’t trust myself around Ace.
Not anymore.
I sat up slowly as sunlight crept into the room. The sound of a soft knock on the front door pulled me out of my thoughts. My heart jumped — for one raw second I thought it was him. Ace, back again, desperate for a conversation, another chance to claw his way into my guarded world.
But when I cracked open the door, it was Sylvia.
“Morning, Brit,” Sylvia greeted softly, her kind eyes studying my face. She was clutching a paper bag, her dark hair pulled into a loose bun, no makeup on, just the natural beauty she always carried so easily.
“Morning,” I said hoarsely, stepping aside to let her in.
She walked in cautiously, like she was testing the air. “Brought you those scones you love,” she offered with a small smile, lifting the bag. “Figured you hadn’t been eating much.”
I tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Thanks, Syl.”
We settled at the kitchen table. She handed me a cup of coffee she had thoughtfully picked up too, and for a while, we sat in companionable silence — until she exhaled, folded her hands on the table, and gave me that look.
“I ran into Ace again today,” she said quietly.
My spine stiffened. My fingers tightened around the mug.
“Brit… he’s not doing well,” Sylvia continued, watching me carefully. “He’s… lost. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s at the gym at all hours, but half the time he’s just sitting in thecorner, staring at nothing. And when he’s not there, he’s… here. Outside. Waiting.”
I closed my eyes, exhaling shakily. “Syl, I can’t—”
“I know you’re hurting, Brittany.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “But so is he.”
