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.