June

I push the door open, and the familiar scent of the house hits me—but it doesn’t feel like home right now. My mind is a storm, each thought so loud I can't take it anymore.

Why did he have to ruin it like that?

Why confess—only to tell me to quit?

It should’ve been perfect. It could’ve been perfect.

But now all I can think about is the way he said it—calm, almost pleading. As if loving me was a mistake he needed to fix.

My chest twists painfully.

The internship is the only ...