Page 185 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

“I spent so long thinking love meant staying,” I admitted. “Understanding him. Forgiving him. Being patient enough that eventually he’d choose me properly.” I shook my head. “But sometimes… sometimes loving someone too much is the very thing that ruins you.”

The bus lights flickered.

“And I know walking away is supposed to feel empowering,” I said. “Like you’re supposed to feel strong or free or proud of yourself. But honestly? It just hurts.”

The honesty of it cracked something open inside me again.

“So maybe choosing yourself doesn’t always look powerful. Maybe doing the right thing can also look like this—crying alone at the back of the bus.”

I gave the camera one last broken smile through tears.

“And maybe being strong isn’t about finally not loving them anymore. Maybe it’s loving them with your whole heart and still walking away because… because you finally realized love isn’t enough anymore.”

I shrugged, feeling defeated.

I posted it instantly.

Then, quickly, I opened my contacts.

My thumb hovered over Andi’s name for only a millisecond before pressing call.

“Hello?” Andi answered, her voice a little groggy and confused. “James?”

The moment I heard someone who loved me answer the phone, I broke all over again.

My lips trembled.

Then quietly, helplessly, I whispered, “I need you guys.”

The Mandani buildings glowed above the boardwalk, towering with pride in all glass and light and almost impossible ambition.

But out here by the water, everything felt softer. Slower. Like the world itself lowered its voice for my grief.

I walked quickly beneath lamp lights, my hands trembling inside my pockets, my chest still raw from every feeling I had to feel.

The farther I walked, the more heartbreak inside me stopped feeling survivable alone.

And for the first time that night, I realized I didn’t want to survive it alone.

Then finally—I saw them.

At the stairs of the boardwalk.

Andre was pacing back and forth restlessly, arms crossed, glancing toward the path every few seconds like he had been waiting for hours. Meanwhile, Andi, Honey, and Mel sat together on the steps beneath the warm glow of the lamps, huddled close like they were trying to hold the night together between them.

They looked sad.

Mel rested her head against Honey’s shoulder while Honey absentmindedly rubbed circles against Andi’s arm. Even from a distance, I could feel the heaviness sitting between them.

And suddenly, my chest hurt all over again.

Because they came.

Even after everything.

Even after I disappeared.

Even after I shut them out.