Brooklyn hadn't planned to leave her dorm that night, but the restless thoughts wouldn't let her sleep. She slipped out quietly, clutching a hoodie around her as she wandered across campus under the pale glow of the lampposts.
She found herself outside the gym without even realizing it. The muffled sound of a bouncing ball echoed inside.
Curiosity tugged her forward.
When she pushed the door open, the sight stopped her breath. Bryant, alone on the court, drenched in sweat, his movements sharp, relentless—like he was trying to outrun something inside him.
For a moment, she just watched.
Then the ball slipped from his grip, rolling toward her. He turned, startled. "Brooklyn?"
She bent to pick it up, hugging it to her chest. "Couldn't sleep. And apparently, neither can you."
He wiped his face with the edge of his shirt, avoiding her eyes. "Yeah. Guess I had too much energy."
Brooklyn stepped closer, handing him the ball. "Or maybe too much on your mind."
His hand brushed hers as he took it, the brief contact sparking through her skin. For once, Bryant didn't joke, didn't deflect. He just stared at her, eyes dark and unreadable.
"Why didn't you stop him?" he asked quietly.
It took her a second to realize what he meant. The roses. The café. Mani.
"I… I didn't know how," she admitted, her voice low. "It all happened so fast."
Bryant's jaw tightened, but instead of anger, there was something else in his expression—hurt.
"You don't have to let him decide things for you," he said. "Not Mani. Not me. Just… you."
Brooklyn's heart ached at the honesty in his tone. She wanted to say something, anything, but her voice caught in her throat.
They stood there in silence, the empty gym echoing with everything unsaid.
And for the first time, Brooklyn realized she wasn't just caught in the middle. She was the one holding the balance—of both their hearts.