45. Hannah
FORTY-FIVE
I can see it on his face.
He didn’t go to the library.
I believe him about everything else. I do. But I believe that too.
“You weren’t going to meet me that night.” My heart sinks as I say it.
None of this even matters.
He never tried looking for me.
It would’ve been over anyway.
“I was going to.” He grits the words, frustrated.
I think about that damn paper football, and the pressure building behind my eyes is too much.
“Can you please leave?” I ask quietly.
“It’s not like that.” Maddox takes another step closer, and I focus my gaze on the center of his chest. “I didn’t go because I’d already heard you’d left. And I was mad that you left without telling me.”
I drag my eyes back up to his. “Heard from who?”
“This— some girl. She said she overheard you telling people you were transferring back home.”
I shake my head. “I never told anyone, Maddox. I sent an email to my boss, but I never said the words out loud to anyone. You were basically the only person on campus who knew I existed.”
And he didn’t even look for me.
Fuck, this all hurts as much today as it did back then.