She looked okay.
Just like the damn text.
But he wasn't okay, and God help him, that's what gutted him the most.
Not the cold. Not the way the dorm doors swung open. Not even the way his heart stuttered like a dying engine in his chest.
No. It was her. Standing there, hair falling over one shoulder, cheeks flushed from the winter air.
She looked…normal, beautiful, untouched. Like she hadn't been wrecked the way he was. Like she'd slept through the nights that kept him wide awake.
As if nothing had happened.
Like she hadn't disappeared after they slept together, she hadn't ghosted him for three whole days, leaving his messages unread, making him spiral into every worst-case scenario imaginable.
Every sound outside made him look up. Every flash of light, every passing car. He thought maybe she'd come back. Maybe she'd left something behind.
But the only thing she left was him.
He'd checked in with Phoebe. With Keith. Hated himself for it, but did it anyway.
