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If I answer him honestly, this is over.

Every wall I spent this last year building comes crashing down.

So I give him nothing.

Milo lets out a shaky breath. “Because I fucking miss you, Max.”

Don’t.

“I miss you like crazy.”

Please don’t.

“Nothing feels right anymore. It’s like…” He places his hand over his heart again, searching for the right words to say. “Like there’s this Max-shaped hole in my life, and nothing I do fills it.”

My throat burns with tears I refuse to shed.

“I know that sounds selfish. Maybe it is. But I need you to know that. Even if you don’t feel the same way. Even if you never speak to me again.” His eyes hold mine. “I miss you.”

Three little words.

They shouldn’t hurt more than I love you.

But they do.

“Are you done?” I hear myself ask coldly.

His face falls flat at my feet.

Fuck.

For one vulnerable second, I almost take it back.

But I don’t. Because I can’t.

“Just one more thing,” he whispers. “I never believed any of it.”

I swallow hard. “Any of what?”

“The things people said about you. The stuff about Mr. Collins. The names people called you. All of it.” His jaw tightens. “I knew it was bullshit. I just wish you’d trusted me enough to tell me what was really happening back then.”

“Milo—”

“Maybe I could’ve helped.”

“You did.”

He stops talking, and for the first time all night, I look him square in the eyes.

“You helped when you let me go.”

Confusion flickers across his face.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

He just stares at me, his lower lashes growing damp as he fights back tears. I dig my nails into my palm, desperate to feel anything other than the pain he’s so clearly struggling to contain.