"Want to talk about it?"
"Nope."
Marcus drops it, which I appreciate. Once we're back in our room, he goes to bed and I sit at my desk, staring at my laptop.
I should work on the Business Strategy assignment. Should start researching potential companies for our project.
Instead, I open the document I've been avoiding all week.
A letter to Ivy. The one I started writing the night I decided to transfer to Thornhill.
Ivy,
I'm coming to find you. I know that sounds creepy. It probably is creepy. But I can't do this anymore, can't keep living knowing I destroyed the most important relationship I've ever had.
You won't forgive me. I know that. I don't expect forgiveness. Don't deserve it.
But I need you to know the truth. Need you to understand why I did what I did.
Three years ago, my parents gave me an ultimatum...
I can't finish it. Every time I try to write the next sentence to explain about their threat, about the impossible choice, the words die.
Because what does it matter? I still chose wrong. Still destroyed her. Still prioritized my family's demands over her heart.
There's no explanation that makes that okay.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown:Saw you at the party tonight. You're the transfer, right? We should hang out sometime. - Chelsea
I delete it without responding.
Another buzz. This time, a group text from some guys on my floor inviting me to a poker game tomorrow.
Delete.
My mother calling.
Ignore.
I just want?—
I don't know what I want.
That's a lie. I know exactly what I want.
I want Ivy to look at me the way she did before. With trust. With affection. With the comfortable familiarity of someone who knows you better than anyone.
I want to tell her the truth and have her understand.
I want to undo every cruel word I said tonight at the party.
I want to stop being the villain in her story.
But I don't know how to be anything else.
My laptop pings. Email notification. I almost ignore it, but the sender catches my eye.