Sera’s POV
The text comes in at 11:47 p.m. on a Thursday.
*Nicholas:* Can we talk? Just five minutes. I won’t make it weird. I promise.
I stare at the screen until it dims, then lights up again with the little typing bubble.
*Nicholas:* Please.
I should delete it.
I should block him again.
I should do a lot of things...But instead I type back one word.
*Sera:* Okay.
We meet at the small park two blocks from my office the next afternoon. There were enough people around that it can’t feel intimate, but quiet enough.
He’s already there when I arrive—sitting on the far bench, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly the knuckles are white. He stands when he sees me.
I stop a few feet away.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.”
The silence is thick.The kind we used to sit in comfortably
