She looked so effortlessly beautiful it hurt.

“She’s gone,” I finally said, as if that explained everything.

“Clearly,” she shot back, unimpressed. “So? What happened?”

“She’s losing her mind,” I muttered. “It’s nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing. She was screaming your name, Blake. My name, too. Want to explain that?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? She’s out there crying because of you, and she was screaming my name like it’s my fault.”

“She’s gone,” I repeated, not meeting her gaze. “It’s over.”

“Blake, what did you do? What did you say to her?”

“It’s not what I did,” I strangled out. “It’s what I couldn’t do.”

I made the mistake of looking at her then. The second our eyes met, something cracked open inside my chest.

We stared at each other, the silence between us somehow louder than anything Sydney had just screamed.

“I’m tired,” I sighed. “Just drop it, Beverly.”

“That’s not an answer.”

I laughed dryly. “Well, it’s all I’ve got right now.”

“Blake,” she said softly. “Just tell me what happened.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of everything crashing down on me at once. “I told her the truth. Or at least, I tried to.”

“And what truth is that?”

That I feel like I’m drowning.

That my heart aches in a way that has become too familiar.

That your presence feels like both salvation and destruction.

But I didn’t say any of that.

Instead, I let the words fall from my lips before I lost my nerve. “That I never loved her. Because I was too busy loving you.”

Beverly’s eyes softened, but there was something else there, too—something that looked a lot like pain.

For a moment, I thought she might say something.

For a moment, I thought she might stay.

But instead, she turned.

And then she was gone.

I braced my hands against the cold tile wall, my breath ragged. My ribs still ached from the fight. My knuckles, still scabbed over, throbbed every time I flexed my fingers.

None of it hurt as much as the rest of me.

I hated this feeling—this quiet, restless ache that nothing could drown out. Like something inside me had been knocked loose, bruising me from the inside out.

I knew exactly what it was.

It was her.

It was Beverly.