Zoey
I stared at him across the small table, unsure what he meant.
“Bring her back?” I repeated.
Alex’s eyes didn’t waver. “The girl who laughs without thinking twice. The one who doesn’t carry the weight of the world in her eyes.”
I blinked, caught completely off guard. No one talked to me like that, not professors, not friends, not anyone. It felt like he was looking straight through the careful walls I built to survive life.
“Maybe she’s just… tired,” I said softly.
“Then let her rest,” he replied, his tone gentler now. “But don’t lose her.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just focused on twirling my pasta, pretending it needed my full attention. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, just full. The kind that made you aware of everything else: the jazz in the background, the c
