Brandon's POV
How long could I even pretend I didn't care?
I didn't know anymore. All I knew was: the moment the door clicked shut behind Madison earlier, something inside me cracked. And now here I was, sitting on the floor of my room like some heart-struck idiot, back pressed against the foot of my bed, the envelope Chloe left for me clutched tight in my hand. My fingers trembled around it—not because I was scared, but because I already knew whatever was inside would finish whatever little self-control I had left.
I tore it open carefully, slower than I intended. And then everything in my chest collapsed.
Inside were movie tickets.
The same movie we were meant to watch that day—the day everything fell apart. Except now the date was different. The time was different. But the meaning? That was the same. It was like she had pressed rewind on our argument and quietly asked, Let's try again.
There was a note attached, her handwriting small, curved and careful.
