NovelEnglish« Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Zephyr attempted to findmany more times that semester.
| perfected the art of looking right through him.
Meanwhile, Sid and | grew closer each day.
During Stanford's chilly winters, he'd wrap his scarf around both our necks, warm my hands between his,
and tuckinside his coat when we walked across the windy quad.
But unlike what I'd experienced before, he treatedwith genuine respect and care.
He always asked before even the smallest displays of affection, his cheeks flushing adorably when he'd lean
in to kiss my forehead.
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We studied together in coffee shops, laughed over inside jokes no one else understood, and built the kind of
relationship | hadn’t known was possible-one where | felt both cherished and equal.
Zephyr saw all of this from a distance.
His jealousy eventually consumed him.”
One night, after watching us leave a campus event together, he snapped and tried to physically
separate us.
| called campus security without a second thought, calmly providing my statement while they escorted him
away.
His eyes beggedfor mercy or understanding.
But there was nothing left inthat could be moved by his desperation.
Months later, | heard through an old high school friend that he’d dropped out of UC Davis mid-sophomore
year.
He'd fallen back into his old patterns-drinking, fighting, street racing-but worse than before.
Apparently, he would get blackout drunk and cry about his “childhood sweetheart” to anyone who
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Chapter 21
would listen.
His parents eventually cut him off financially after he wrecked his third luxury car.
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The golden boy had lost his shine, his future, and any sympathy | might once have felt.
One sunny afternoon in my junior year, | sat cross-legged on my apartment floor, methodically going
through my phone contacts and social media.
I deleted the last few mutual connections we shared.
Blocked the throwaway accounts he occasionally created.
Removed myself from alumni groups where his nmight appear.
It wasn’t about anger anymore-it was about space. About making room for the life | was building.
As | completed this final digital cleanse, my phone lit up with a text:
[On my way home. Found fresh cherries at the farmers market. The dark sweet ones you love.]
| smiled, putting down my phone and looking out the window. The California sunshine streamed in, warming
my face as | spotted Sid walking up the path to our apartment building, a paper bag cradled in one arm.
| rushed downstairs to meet him, feeling lighter with each step.
The door swung open to sunshine, fresh fruit, and the person who had taughtwhat love actually looked
like.
The past was finally where it belonged-behind me.
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