Chapter 13: A Momth Without You
The days that followed were a blur for Rose.
She packed up her things and moved back to her apartment, cutting off all communication with both Henry and Sophie. No calls. No texts. She even blocked their numbers.
In school, she avoided Henry like her life depended on it—changing paths when she saw him, slipping into lecture halls just before classes began, and leaving the moment they ended. Her walls were up, high and solid, and no one—not even Henry—could get through.
Meanwhile, Henry was losing his mind.
He waited by the hallway. Stood outside her lecture doors. Sat in the cafeteria hoping to catch even a glimpse of her. But Rose never gave him the chance. And the few times their eyes met from across a room, hers were ice-cold—blank. Like he was nothing more than a stranger.
He went to her apartment three times that week.
The first time, she didn't answer the door.
The second time, she spoke through it. "Go home, Henry."
The third time, she let the bell ring until it echoed into silence.
And Sophie?
She was suddenly everywhere.
Popping up at his car with coffee, waiting for him after class, smiling like none of it mattered.
But Henry didn't smile back.
One afternoon, as she slid her hand through the crook of his arm, he pulled away.
"Sophie," he said firmly, "stop."
She blinked, wide-eyed. "Stop what?"
"Whatever this is. It's not happening. I'm not interested. I never was. It's always been Rose."
Her face twisted. "But you came to see me," she snapped. "You kissed me—once."
"And it was a mistake. One I regret. You're not the one I want."
Her mask cracked, and for the first time, Sophie didn't know what to say.
Henry didn't wait around to see her reaction—he walked away.
Weeks passed.
The tension on campus was thick—palpable.
People noticed, even if they didn't know the whole story.
Rose buried herself in her studies. Books. Group discussions. Exams. Anything to distract from the ache that settled in her chest every night like clockwork.
But when the lights were off, and the world was quiet, she scrolled through her gallery.
Photos of Henry.
Videos.
Memories she wasn't strong enough to delete.
She missed him.
His voice.
His laugh.
The way he held her like she was all that mattered.
But how could she forgive betrayal?
One quiet evening, while reviewing her notes for finals, her phone rang.
Mum.
She answered softly. "Hi, Mum."
"Hi, baby. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she lied.
There was a pause.
Then her mother said gently, "Henry called me last week."
Rose froze. "What?"
"He said you blocked him. He was worried. He didn't know how else to reach you."
Rose's heart stuttered.
"I didn't want to tell you until now," her mum continued. "But I think you should know. He told me everything. About that night. About Sophie."
Rose stayed silent.
"She set him up, Rose," her mother said. "She asked to see him for 'closure.' When he showed up, she tried to kiss him again. He pushed her away and left."
"He didn't tell me," Rose whispered.
"He was scared," her mum replied. "Afraid you wouldn't believe him."
Rose's fingers trembled against her phone.
"Sweetheart…" Her mother's voice softened. "That boy was crying when he called me. I've known him since you were both kids. Henry is in love with you. And he's been fighting for you the only way he knows how."
Rose didn't answer.
Tears filled her eyes, blurring the page in front of her. Something in her chest cracked open, just a little.
Maybe… just maybe…
It wasn't the end.