Brandon's POV
I stood there and watched her run.
Again.
It didn't surprise me.
It was Zoe—of course, she ran. That was her thing. The moment things got too real, too heavy, too close to the truth… she bolted. Like staying meant breaking, and running meant survival.
For a second, I just stood there, staring at the space she had left behind, my chest rising and falling unevenly. The night air suddenly felt colder, emptier.
Garrett shifted beside me, already moving to go after her. I blocked him with a wave of my hand.
"No, I got this one," I cut in firmly.
So sure. So confident.
He stopped.
There was a pause—brief but loaded—before he lifted both hands in surrender.
"Okay," he said simply.
I exhaled, tension easing just a fraction, then I turned to him. Without overthinking it, I pulled him into a quick hug.
"Thanks for coming today, man," I muttered behind his ear.
"And… I'm really sorry about how I acted earlier." I added. My tone, remorseful.
