Brandon's POV
There were moments in life when pain announced itself loudly.
And then there were moments when it settled quietly into your bones, making a home there until you no longer remembered what life felt like before it arrived.
The day Zoe left, I discovered the second kind.
I never went downstairs.
Even when I heard the front door open.
Even when I heard Elizabeth's soft voice telling her to call when she arrived.
Even when Seth's footsteps lingered by the entrance far longer than they should have.
I stayed exactly where I was.
Motionless.
One hand resting against the cold glass of my bedroom window.
The other hanging uselessly by my side.
Every part of me screamed to go after her.
Run downstairs.
Call her name.
Tell her I hadn't meant a single word I said.
Tell her I was just scared. Scared of our fate.
Tell her I was drowning in my own fears.
And beg her not to leave.
But my feet refused to move.
It wasn't pride.
It wasn't anger.
