Joey stood at the edge of the road where it had all begun.
The jacaranda blossoms had returned, carpeting the pavement in soft purple petals. The sun was low, casting golden streaks across the asphalt. It was the same place Paul had held her hand, promised to return, and walked away.
She hadn't planned to come here. Her feet had brought her, like muscle memory. Like unfinished business.
Paul was already there.
He stood in the middle of the road, hands in his pockets, staring at the horizon like it owed him something. When he saw her, he didn't smile. He just nodded.
Joey walked slowly, deliberately, until she stood a few feet from him.
"You came," he said.
"I needed to."
They stood in silence, the city humming around them.
"I was scammed," Paul said finally. "The scholarship… it wasn't real."
Joey didn't flinch. "I know."
Paul blinked. "You do?"
"I figured it out. You wouldn't have left like that unless you believed in something."
Paul looked down. "I believed in us. That's why I left."
Joey's voice was steady. "But you didn't tell me. You didn't trust me with the truth."
"I was ashamed."
"I was abandoned."
Paul winced. "I'm sorry."
Joey nodded. "I believe you. But sorry doesn't fix everything."
Paul stepped closer. "Do you still love me?"
Joey's breath caught. She looked at him—really looked. The boy she had loved. The man he was trying to become.
"I don't know," she said. "But I know I'm not the same girl you left."
Paul's eyes filled. "I want to try again."
Joey shook her head. "I need to figure out who I am without you first."
They stood there, two people bound by memory but separated by time.
Then Joey turned and walked away.
Paul didn't follow.