It’s finally weekend.
The words repeated in my head like they carried weight, like they meant more than just days off from classes. Weekend meant going back. Weekend meant facing everything I ran from in New York.
I sat beside Jaxson on the flight, my fingers knotted together in my lap, my leg bouncing even though I kept telling myself to stop. He noticed—he always noticed—but he didn’t tell me to calm down or say it would be okay. He just reached for my hand and held it like he wasn’t going anywhere.
That somehow made it worse. And better.
I had agreed to this. I had asked for this. I wanted to come back and do this the right way. No disappearing. No running.
Still, my chest felt tight as we pulled into his family’s house. The house looked the same. Too familiar. Like it had been wa
