I managed to hold it together for three days.
Three days of pretending I was fine. That Daniel leaving hadn't destroyed me. That I'd made the right choice staying with Lucas.
Three days of lying.
On day four, I broke.
Lucas found me in our bedroom, sitting on the floor, holding my phone. Staring at Daniel's last text—the one from the airport. The one I'd read a hundred times.
"If you change your mind—call me."
I was crying. Silently. The kind of crying where tears just stream down your face and you don't even notice until they're dripping off your chin.
"Brooklyn?"
I looked up. Lucas in the doorway. Home early from his studio. Taking in the scene—me on the floor, phone in hand, tears everywhere.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
I couldn't answer. Just shook my head.
He came closer. Saw what was on my phone. His face changed.
"That's Daniel's text."
It wasn't a question. Definitely not.
"Brooklyn, why are you crying over a text from your ex-boyfriend?"
"I don't know."
