Chapter 4
Samuel took me to a small park on the edge of town. It was quiet, with hardly anyone around.
We walked along a narrow path, side by side. He kept to my left, blocking the morning breeze that still carried a chill.
"Leah," he said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"I know you're hurting right now, and I know you need time." He stopped walking and turned to face me. "I'm not gonna push you, and I'm not gonna rush you.
"I just want you to know that however long it takes, I'll wait. Whenever you're ready. Whenever you feel like looking my way." His voice softened. "I'll be right here."
His tone was calm, as if he were talking about something ordinary. But the weight behind every word was anything but.
I lowered my eyes and said nothing.
It wasn't that I didn't want to respond. I didn't know how.
For three years, I had been the one giving, the one chasing, the one holding someone so carefully in my heart like they might break if I let go.
And now, for the first time, someone was treating me with that same kind of care, and I didn't quite know what to do with it.
We kept walking, and silence stretched between us, but it didn't feel awkward.
Samuel stopped beneath a ginkgo tree. He looked up at the canopy of green leaves and said, "When fall comes, these leaves turn gold. It's really something. We should come back and see it together."
I didn't respond. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I held onto that promise.
That evening, I sat alone at my desk and opened my laptop.
The Eastlake University application portal was still on the screen, still showing the major Lucas and I had picked together, the future we had mapped out side by side.
I stared at it for a long time, then closed the page.
I opened a new tab and searched for Northbridge University.
He had chosen someone else. It was time to choose a different path for myself.
My finger hovered over the enter key for three seconds. Then I pressed it without hesitation.
The words Application Submitted Successfully flashed across the screen, and the weight on my chest shifted, just slightly, for the first time in weeks.
That night, the class group chat blew up again. This time it was about Lucas.
Someone had leaked that Susan scored an 810 on her SATs, too low for any four-year university. Community college was her only option.
The chat split into two camps. One side urged Lucas to wake up and stop throwing away his future for a girl. The other side cheered him on, insisting that true love mattered more than any degree.
Lucas stayed quiet for a long time. Then he sent one message: [I've made up my mind. Wherever Susan goes, I go.]
The chat erupted.
I put my phone down and didn't look again. That was his road to walk, and it had nothing to do with me.
The days that followed were filled with preparations for Northbridge.
Samuel showed up every few days, sometimes with coffee and a breakfast sandwich, sometimes to help me sort through paperwork, and sometimes to sit beside me for a while.
He never said anything that felt like pressure, and he never crossed any lines. He was there, steady and quiet, like a tree that offered shade without ever asking for anything in return.
In late July, the acceptance packet arrived. It came in a thick envelope stamped with Northbridge University's seal on the front.
I opened it and saw my name printed across the letter inside, and a tangle of emotions hit me all at once.
Without the recommendation Samuel had secured for me, my grades alone would never have been enough for Northbridge.
I sent Samuel a text: [Got the letter. Thank you.]
He replied instantly: [Congrats to you. And congrats to me.]
[What are you congratulating yourself for?]
Samuel: [For finally having a reason to stand beside you, out in the open.]
I stared at those words, and my heart skipped a beat.
At the end of August, Samuel and I boarded a train to Northbridge City.
The day we left, I didn't look back at the city. Not even once.
I had given three years of my life to that place, and all it gave me in return was the worst betrayal and heartbreak I'd ever known. I never wanted to go back.
When the train pulled out of the station, Samuel handed me a bottle of water. "Get some sleep. I'll wake you when we get there."
I leaned back in my seat and watched the scenery blur past the window.
An old saying crossed my mind. Some people only ever showed up to teach a lesson, and once that lesson was learned, they were supposed to leave.
But the right person would appear at the lowest point, reach out a hand, and lead the way toward something better.
I turned my head and glanced at Samuel. He was reading, his profile sharp and clean in the light.
He must have felt me looking, because he glanced up and the corner of his mouth lifted. "What's up?"
"Nothing." I shook my head and looked away, but a small smile crept onto my face before I could stop it.
The sunlight outside the window was warm and golden.