The wind moved softly through the park, carrying with it the quiet laughter of strangers and the distant hum of passing cars. Delaney sat on a worn wooden bench, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands loosely clasped together like he was holding onto something that wasn't there anymore.
Across from him, a couple stood beneath a tree just beginning to bloom. The girl laughed at something the boy said, nudging his shoulder, and the boy smiled in that effortless way people do when they don't have to think about losing someone.
Delaney looked away.
He wasn't jealous. Not exactly.
It just… reminded him.
Three years.
It had been three years since Oakhill.
Three years since her.
He leaned back against the bench, staring up at the sky as if it might answer something he'd never been able to put into words. The clouds drifted slowly, careless, like time didn't mean anything to them.
But it did to him.
Because time was the reason he didn't know where Destiny was.
Or if she was okay.
Or if she ever thought about him at all.
Oakhill wasn't the kind of place you forgot.
Thirty kids, give or take, all packed into a system that tried to look like structure but felt more like quiet chaos. Schedules, rules, staff watching everything like hawks especially the things they said they weren't watching.
Especially relationships.
"No attachments," they'd say.
"Focus on yourselves."
"Friendships are fine, but nothing more."
Like feelings could be turned off just because someone with a clipboard said so.
Delaney had been ten when he got there.
He tried to remember the first time he met Destiny.
He really did.
But it was… blurry.
Like a dream that slipped away the harder you reached for it.
A cafeteria table, maybe.
Or the yard.
Her voice he remembered that. Bright. confident. easy.
But the moment itself?
Gone.
Faded into nothing.
What stayed… was everything after.
They became friends.
At least, that's what he told himself.
She'd sit near him. Talk to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. Pull him into conversations he didn't know how to start on his own.
And Delaney.quiet, careful Delaney just followed along.
It was simple.
Safe.
That's what he thought it was.
Because she never said anything.
Never did anything that made it obvious.
So he assumed.
That's all I am to her.
A friend.
And for a while… that was enough.
The memory that didn't fade came later.
Clear.
Sharp.
Untouched by time.
Chapel.
Rows of chairs. Dim lighting. The low murmur of voices settling into forced quiet. Staff lining the walls, watching like always.
Delaney sat beside her.
Nothing unusual about that.
Nothing that would get them in trouble.
The speaker droned on at the front, words blending together into something meaningless. Delaney wasn't really listening.
He never did.
Then.
A shift.
Small.
Barely noticeable.
Destiny leaned closer.
So close he could feel her presence before he even turned his head.
And then
Soft.
Warm against his ear.
"I like you."
Delaney froze.
For a second, he thought he imagined it.
His heart started pounding, loud and sudden, like it was trying to catch up to something he didn't understand.
He turned slightly, just enough to look at her.
She was already facing forward again.
Like nothing happened.
Like she hadn't just changed everything.
Except… she didn't stop there.
That was the difference.
After that day, Destiny didn't hide it.
Not really.
She still followed the rules at least on the surface but there was something in the way she acted that made it obvious to anyone paying attention.
And the staff?
They were always paying attention.
She sat closer than she needed to.
Close enough that their shoulders brushed and never quite moved apart.
She'd call his name across rooms like it mattered more than anyone else's.
Find excuses to be near him lining up behind him, choosing the seat next to him, showing up wherever he was like it wasn't coincidence at all.
And sometimes… she'd look at him.
Not quick.
Not subtle.
Just long enough.
Long enough that it said everything without words.
Delaney noticed it.
Of course he did.
But so did everyone else.
Including the staff.
"Delaney. Switch seats."
"Destiny, that's enough. Give him space."
"Both of you separate."
It started small.
Warnings.
Looks.
Staff stepping in just a little too often.
But Destiny didn't back off.
If anything, she pushed it further never breaking the rules outright, never doing anything they could punish directly…
…but never hiding it either.
Like she didn't care who saw.
Like she wanted them to know.
Delaney didn't understand it at first.
Didn't understand why she wouldn't just… be careful.
But then he realized
She wasn't trying to protect it.
Delaney let out a quiet breath on the park bench, his fingers tightening slightly.
That was the moment everything changed.
Because before that, he thought he was just someone she talked to.
After that…
There was no pretending.
Not for him.
Not for her.
Not for anyone.
They still found ways to keep things to themselves.
Corners of the yard where staff didn't quite check. Quiet conversations when no one was close enough to hear.
But it wasn't the same as hiding.
Not completely.
There was always this tension now like everyone knew, even when nothing was being said.
Like they were being watched more closely.
Like something was always about to be taken away.
And somehow…
That made every moment feel heavier.
More important.
More temporary.
He got discharged when he was twelve.
It wasn't a big moment. No dramatic goodbye. No final chance to say everything he should've said.
Just paperwork. A staff member calling his name. A bag of his things.
And her standing across the room.
This time…
They had to be careful.
Because now everyone was watching.
No hug.
No goodbye.
Just a look.
It lasted maybe a second.
Maybe less.
But it said everything.
All the things they never got to finish.
The sound of laughter pulled Delaney back to the present.
The couple from before had moved closer now, their hands brushing together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He wondered what that felt like.
To not have to hide.
To not have people watching.
To not have something real treated like it wasn't allowed to exist.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
Fifteen now.
Three years later.
And all he had left of her was a voice in his memory.
Soft.
Close.
"I like you."
And the way she never tried to take it back.
Didn't hide it.
Didn't pretend it was nothing.
Even when everyone else acted like it should be.
He didn't know where she was.
Didn't know if she got out.
Didn't know if she was okay.
Didn't know if she ever sat somewhere like this… thinking about him.
Delaney stood up from the bench, the weight in his chest settling into something quieter but heavier.
"Destiny…" he murmured under his breath.
The wind carried the name away before it could linger.
For a moment, he just stood there.
Then he turned, walking down the path, leaving the couple behind, leaving the bench behind.
But not that feeling.
Never that.
Because even if everything else faded.
She never treated what they had like it was something to hide.
And maybe that was why…