The next morning, campus felt different.
Not because anything had changed.
Because I had.
There's something about hearing a man admit he doesn't want to lose you that rewires the air around you.
I moved through the courtyard slower, aware of everything, the cold breeze, the crunch of leaves under my boots, the weight of Daniel's message still sitting unread in my notifications.
My parents loved you.
Loved.
Such a soft word.
Such a heavy one.
I didn't reply.
I didn't know how to exist in two emotional realities at once.
And yet, here I was.
Daniel found me before lunch.
He didn't text.
He didn't call.
He showed up.
That was something he'd always been good at, occupying space confidently.
"You disappeared last night," he said lightly, falling into step beside me.
"I went for a walk."
"At ten?"
"Yes."
His eyes searched my face.
"You look different."
"How?"
"I don't know." He frowned slightly. "Like you made a decision without me."
The words made my pulse spike.
