"How do I earn it?"
"I don't know. But constantly showing up everywhere I am isn't it. Neither is stealing my coffee or undermining me in class." She crosses her arms. "You say you love me, but your actions have been controlling and manipulative. That's not love. That's an obsession."
The word hits hard. Because she's right.
"You're right. I've been awful. I was trying to force you to see me, to acknowledge me, and I was doing it in the worst possible way."
"Why? Why not just... talk to me? Like you did last night?"
"Because I'm a coward. Because it's easier to make you hate me than to risk telling you the truth and having you decide it doesn't matter." I meet her eyes. "Because if I'm honest and you still hate me, then I have to accept that I destroyed the best thing in my life permanently and I'm not ready for that."
"So instead you torture both of us."
"Yes. Which is fucked up and selfish and everything you think it is."
She nods slowly. "At least you're self-aware."
"For whatever that's worth."
We sit in silence. Outside, I can hear other students in the hallway, laughing and talking. Normal people having normal college experiences.
"I need time," Ivy says finally. "To process this. All of it. The truth about your parents. Your feelings. Everything."
"How much time?"
"I don't know. Maybe the rest of the semester. Maybe longer." She looks at me. "But I need you to actually back off. Not the half-assed version where you still show up everywhere. Actually give me space."
"Okay."
"And you need to deal with your parents. Set boundaries. Figure out who you are without their control."
"I'm working on it."
"Work harder." She lies down, turning away from me. "And Ethan? If you really love me the way you say you do, you'll respect what I'm asking. You'll give me space and time and let me figure out what I feel without pressure."
"I will. I promise."
"You're good at making promises. Let's see if you're good at following through."
She turns off her bedside lamp, and the room goes dark.
I lie there, staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation. Wondering when she’ll let me kiss her, because the moment I saw her that’s all I’ve thought about.
She understands. She believes me. She's giving me a chance, not to win her back, but to prove I've changed.
It's more than I deserve and I'm terrified I'll fuck it up.
But for the first time in three years, there's a path forward. Narrow, uncertain, fraught with obstacles.
But a path nonetheless and I'll take it.
Even if it means waiting. Even if it means giving her space when all I want is to be near her.
Even if it means proving myself over and over until she decides I'm worth trusting again.
I'll do it.
Because she's worth it.