Mason's POV
The world around me felt muffled, like someone had turned down its volume. Even the air seemed heavier, the clouds gray and curling low as if they shared the same hollow feeling in my chest.
After leaving the rooftop, I didn't know where I was going. I just walked — through the school gate, across the main road, past the corner store where Elise sometimes bought coffee on her way to work. My feet led me without purpose until I stopped and realized where I was.
Elise's apartment.
The small, old building looked exactly the same — except emptier. The curtains in her window were gone, and the faint glow that always seeped through them at night wasn't there anymore. It was dark. And silent. The world had swallowed every trace of her.
I wasn't sure what I thought I'd find. Maybe a light she'd left on, a forgotten note on the door, something that said she'd come back soon. Instead, there was nothing—just me, standing on the cracked pavement like some sad ghost haunting a place that no longer belonged to him.
My chest ached in a way that words couldn't explain.
So I kept walking until I reached the park across the street — the same place where she once told me she liked to wait for the bus during her first week here. I sat down on a damp bench, Luke's crumpled envelope still clenched in my hand.
For a long time, I couldn't bring myself to open it.
I wanted to. But opening it meant admitting that she was really gone. That everything I'd done — the chasing, the wanting, the pretending — had led us here. To this silence.
The rain started without warning, soft at first, whispering through the trees. I barely noticed it until the cold drops streaked across the envelope. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, but I didn't move.
Finally, with shaking fingers, I tore it open.
THE LETTER:
[Mason,
I don't even know how to start this. My hands are trembling as I write, and I keep stopping because a part of me still wishes I could tell you these words in person. But I can't.
I don't have the courage to face you, not after everything I've done.
I'm sorry for leaving without saying anything. I asked Luke to keep it from you because I knew if I saw you again — if I saw your face, or heard you say my name — I wouldn't be able to walk away. And I needed to.
Mason, I need you to know that what we had wasn't a mistake to me. It wasn't some impulsive game or a distraction. It was real, every second of it.
You brought light into days I didn't even realize had dimmed. You reminded me what it felt like to be alive again, and I'll never forget that. You'll always have that part of me — the one that laughed, that trusted, that dared to feel something impossible.
I know you always wondered what made me fall for Carter. Maybe I owe you that answer. He was simply the kindest person I knew back then. He never judged, never raised his voice, never tried to change me. And maybe… I loved him because I believed kindness like that could never hurt anyone. Even if he knew about you — who you are, what we shared — he wouldn't hate you for it. He's that kind of person. The kind I used to want to be. But that doesn't mean you were any less important to me. You were. More than you'll ever know. I just wasn't brave enough to choose you in a world that would've destroyed us both if I did.
I'm sorry, Mason. For the lies. For my cowardice. For loving you and still walking away. Please find your way to something better — someone better. Someone who can love you without looking over her shoulder. You deserve that. You always did.
Thank you for every memory, for every smile, for making me feel everything all at once.
Goodbye, Mason.
— Elise]
The ink blurred where the raindrops hit the page, but the words still cut cleanly through me.
I didn't even realize I was crying until I saw the wetness dripping from my chin onto the letter. My hands shook as I folded it back up, holding it against my chest like I could memorize the feeling of her handwriting.
Luke was right.
I owed him an apology.
I owed her an apology.
And maybe — worst of all — I owed myself one too.
Because all this time, I thought I was the one being abandoned. But the truth was, I was the one who refused to see things clearly. I drowned in the attention I'd craved so badly that I forgot it came from someone who was fighting her own guilt just to give it to me.
I thought I'd been wronged when really, I was the one who had crossed lines that should've never been crossed.
Elise didn't ruin me.
I ruined us.
By the time the rain grew heavier, my hair was slick against my forehead and the paper in my hands was half-soaked. I didn't care. I sat there, head bowed, the cold soaking through my jacket, while her words replayed again and again like a broken record.
I'd wished for forever with her. And maybe that was my mistake — thinking something forbidden could be infinite.
Eventually, the tears stopped—not because the pain lessened, but because I had nothing left to cry. Just exhaustion.
The park was empty except for the sound of rain tapping on leaves and the soft hum of distant traffic. I looked up at the sky, blurry through my wet lashes, and for the first time since I came back, I whispered something I never thought I would.
"I'm sorry, Elise." My voice cracked in the rain.
"I'm so sorry."