He gently pried my fingers from his shirt and stepped back. “You’re going to finish high school,” he said. “You’re going to figure out what makes you happy, whatever that is. If it’s dancing, great. If it’s college, perfect. If it’s something else, something you haven’t even thought of yet, you’ll do that, too. Whatever it is, you’ll do it because you can do anything. You’re strong enough to get through this. You don’t need me. Don’t let anyone, not even me, make you believe otherwise. And whatever you do, do it because you want to. Not because of me. Not for me. I love you. I’ll always love you. But I can’t stay.”

I shook my head again, choking on my own breath.

“Goodbye, Beverly.” With a gentleness that was almost cruel, he kissed my forehead. Soft. Final. Like he was laying our love to rest, burying it with nothing but a whisper and a touch.

Then he turned and walked away.

“No,” I gasped, grabbing the suitcase.

Blake yanked it back. I pulled harder. We struggled—tugging, pulling, fighting as if our lives depended on it. Maybe mine did.

But then my grip slipped. The force of it sent me stumbling, my knees slamming hard against the pavement. Pain shot through my hands and legs, but it was nothing compared to the agony of knowing he was leaving—that no matter how tightly I held on, Blake had already let go.

“Shit—I’m sorry, B.” Blake dropped to his knees beside me, panic flashing across his face. “I didn’t⁠—”

I shoved him away with shaking hands, rage and despair tangling in my chest until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. “You want to leave?” My breath came in sharp, uneven gasps. “Then go,” I screamed, the sound tearing from me as my vision blurred with tears. “But if you walk away, you are dead to me. Do you hear me, Blake? I will never love you again. I will never want you again. You will never, ever have me again.”

His face crumpled, his entire body going rigid, as if I had just ripped something vital out of him.

Good. Now he knew how it felt.

“I hate you!” The lie burned my throat, but I let it out anyway, spitting the words like venom, as if, maybe, if I said them enough, they’d become true. “We’re done. Just go!”

Blake hesitated.

For one agonizing second, I thought he might change his mind. That he might drop the suitcase, take my face in his hands, and tell me this was all a mistake. That he couldn’t leave me. That he wouldn’t. That he’d stay. That he’d fight for us. But he didn’t.

“Go!” I screamed again, my throat raw, my soul shattering.

And this time, he did.