After that night, something in me broke a little. I spent days scrolling through his stories, watching the life I couldn't have. I even asked around about him, trying to piece together how he got here.
He wrote a book. A whole book. Some deep story about broken people and second chances. I didn't even know he liked writing.
He also landed a role in a college drama—the lead, of course. His performance was talked about for weeks.
And me? I was still trying to make peace with a past that wouldn't come back.