I was Never Theirs

I stood in the quiet of my father’s studio, fingers trailing over the worn edges of his workbench, feeling the grain of the wood he had sanded down with care. This studio was all that was left of him now, tucked away in a forgotten corner of New York. The last real piece of him, right here, surrounded by the faint scent of paint and sawdust that still lingered. It was comforting, grounding—and somehow, unbearable all at once. Today was supposed to be about honoring him, marking his absence on the anniversary of the day he died. But that was too simple, wasn’t it? Instead, Savvy’s antics had stolen any chance I had for a quiet moment alone with my memories. I’d already decided to let go of the studio. As much as it hurt, I knew that staying here, trying to keep it as he left it, was only going to hold me back. My father’s work deserved more than that. But leaving it behind felt too final, like cutting the last string to him, even though I’d been trying to loosen that knot for years. The buzzing of my phone interrupted my thoughts, the screen lighting up with a message from Savvy: “Could you bring me some clean clothes? It’s the least you could do.” I felt my chest tighten, anger welling up as I stared at her words. After everything she’d done—the scene she’d caused, the way she twisted the truth, the way she’d cast me as the villain in front of everyone—she had the nerve to ask me for a favor? My fingers hovered over the screen, itching to respond, to say something biting, something that would cut. But I swallowed back the words. There was no point. No, I thought. I’m not bringing you anything, Savvy. Minutes passed. I tried to settle myself, turning my gaze back to the studio, the bits and pieces he’d left behind, but the stillness didn’t last long. My phone lit up again, this time with a call from Nicolas. I considered ignoring it, but something in me—the part that couldn’t ignore him, no matter how much I wanted to—made me answer. “Sabrina,” he said, without preamble, “could you please bring some clothes to the hospital for Savvy? She’s been asking for hours now.” I let out a cold laugh, though the sound felt foreign even to me. “She already texted me,” I replied, my voice colder than I intended. “And I’m not bringing her anything.” There was a beat of silence, long enough for his sigh to slip through. “Sabrina, don’t be like this,” he said eventually, his voice edged with irritation. “She’s at the hospital, and you can’t even bring her a change of clothes?” I tightened my grip on the phone. “She’s got both of you there to look after her, doesn’t she? Why should she need anything from me?” A tense silence stretched between us, neither of us willing to give in. Finally, I hung up, the familiar anger and hurt mixing in my chest like oil and water, making it hard to breathe. I wasn’t going to play along, not this time. If they couldn’t see the truth by now, then maybe they never would. A knock sounded at the door not long after. I opened it to find Nicolas and Harvey standing outside, their faces serious, expressions unreadable. The sight of them—these two people who’d been with me through everything—only made my chest tighten more. “Sabrina,” Harvey began, his voice calm, steady, but tinged with disappointment, “it would have taken you two minutes to bring her clothes. Was that really so difficult?” Nicolas crossed his arms, his eyes hard. “She’s injured, and you’re refusing to help her?” They exchanged glances, that silent communication they had always shared, the same one that had once included me. Now it felt like they were looking through me, like I was the outsider, the unreasonable one. “Sabrina,” Harvey began, his tone measured, “it’s not like you to be this… inconsiderate.” Inconsiderate. The word landed with a finality that left me feeling hollow. I glanced down, and my eyes caught on the bracelet around my wrist—the gift they’d given me on my eighteenth birthday. It had taken them weeks to find the right one, combing through countless stores in the city just to find something in my favorite style. At the time, they’d looked at me with such pride, sliding it onto my wrist as if it were a promise. Their words cut deeper than I cared to admit, and I fought to keep my expression steady. My fingers drifted to the bracelet around my wrist. I could still remember the way they’d looked when they handed it to me, both of them so proud to have found something they thought suited me perfectly. They’d spent days searching the city for it, making sure it was exactly what I would love, a symbol of everything they believed I was. But now, it felt like a pressure, a reminder of how much had changed since that day. The bracelet was the last thing connecting us, yet it felt foreign, almost mocking, as if it belonged to someone else entirely. Without a word, I reached for the clasp, my fingers trembling slightly as I slipped it off and held it out in front of them. It dangled from my fingers, the small silver chain catching the light, as fragile as the bond we once shared. “Sabrina… what are you doing?” Harvey asked, his tone softening, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. I kept my gaze steady, though the effort made my throat tighten. “The style doesn’t suit me anymore,” I said, each word feeling heavier than the last. A moment of silence passed between us, the pressure of my words sinking in. Nicolas’s expression shifted, his brows knitting together as he took a step forward, his hand half-raised as if he wanted to stop me. “If that’s the problem,” he said carefully, “we can find you a new one. Something that… fits you better.” But I shook my head, setting the bracelet down on the small table beside me, watching as it lay there, motionless, like a ghost of something I’d already lost. They both stared at it, their eyes darkening with something I couldn’t name, a realization that felt too little, too late. “Sabrina,” Harvey murmured, his voice laced with hesitation, like he wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t give him the chance to finish, didn’t wait for them to come up with some excuse, some reason that would justify everything they’d done. “I don’t want it,” I said, keeping my voice steady even as a wave of finality washed over me. “Not anymore.” They looked at me, both of them silent, their faces unreadable, caught off guard in a way I hadn’t seen in years. For once, they didn’t have anything to say, no words to fill the silence that had grown between us. Nicolas reached out, but his hand fell short, hovering in the space between us, as though he didn’t know if he should touch me. Harvey shifted his weight, his gaze lingering on the bracelet, but he made no move to take it. I turned away, stepping past them without another word. The house felt colder as I moved through it, each step echoing as if it were the last. I didn’t look back, didn’t wait to see if they’d pick up the bracelet, if they’d even understand what it meant. Maybe, in time, they would. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Either way, it didn’t matter anymore. I walked out into the cool New York air, the door closing behind me with a quiet finality. I kept moving, feeling a strange lightness in my chest, as though I’d left something behind.

I woke up the next morning, finding the house too quiet. The faint morning light slipped through the blinds, casting long, delicate lines on the floorboards. The weight of yesterday lingered heavily, and I could still feel the ache of my parting words to Nicolas and Harvey, like echoes that wouldn’t stop. I took a breath and tried to brush it off, reaching for a clean shirt when I heard voices downstairs. Nicolas and Harvey had let themselves in again, apparently. I headed down, wondering if they’d come to press me for another favor for Savvy. The minute I reached the bottom of the stairs, I caught sight of them in my room, looking through my things. “Good morning,” I said, a slight edge in my voice, crossing my arms as I entered. They turned, both glancing at me with guarded expressions. Harvey cleared his throat, gesturing toward the few things left on my dresser. “Sabrina, we noticed you didn’t give Savvy anything for her birthday yesterday. Thought these might be a good idea for her. She could use some cheering up.” Nicolas picked up a small bottle of perfume I’d left on my vanity. “She’d like this, don’t you think?” My jaw tightened as I watched them, but I didn’t say anything, just kept my gaze on them. They didn’t notice the look on my face as they casually pulled open a drawer, looking for anything else that might be “perfect” for Savvy. But as they reached my closet, they paused, confusion flickering across their faces. Harvey pulled open one door, then another, only to be met with empty hangers, untouched shelves, and a distinct absence of anything to take. “Sabrina,” Nicolas started, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the closet. “Where is everything?” Just as I opened my mouth to answer, Nicolas’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen, and his expression shifted immediately, brows drawing together as he glanced at Harvey. “It’s Savvy. She needs us at the hospital now.” They didn’t wait for an answer from me. Harvey just nodded in my direction as they quickly left, my empty closet and their questions forgotten. The door clicked shut, and for a moment, I stood there in the quiet, letting the silence settle again. I slipped out of the house, needing some fresh air, and made my way to my father’s studio one last time. It was practically empty, his tools neatly packed away, the scent of wood and metal still faint in the air. Mr. Caldwell, one of my father’s oldest friends, met me at the door. “I’m sorry to hear you’re letting go of the studio, Sabrina,” he said quietly, a knowing smile in his eyes. I nodded, trying to find the words. “It’s… it’s time. I need to let it go.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. “Before you do, I wanted to give you something. Your father designed it years ago, one of his best pieces. He called it Hope Jade. Thought it might bring you some comfort.” I opened the box, and there it was—a piece of jewelry unlike any I’d ever seen. A deep, green stone set in intricate gold, delicate and powerful all at once, something only my father could have created. My fingers trembled slightly as I held it, the weight of his craftsmanship grounding me. “Thank you,” I murmured, the words barely a whisper. “I’ll keep it with me.” Mr. Caldwell nodded, patting my shoulder before he turned to go. I stood in the stillness of the studio for a while longer, letting the memories wash over me, feeling the bittersweet ache of goodbye. When I got home later that evening, the last box was waiting for me. Savvy had picked it up from the courier while she was being discharged from the hospital. She must have left it here earlier, and for once, she’d left without a scene.

The air in the apartment felt charged, heavy with the tension that had become all too familiar between Savvy and me. I’d barely had time to speak before she took it upon herself to open MY package to take a look at what was inside. “What’s this?” she asked, practically bouncing on her feet. I watched as she opened the box wider, revealing the glimmering piece of jewelry nestled inside, and watched as Savvy’s gaze zeroed in on it. The deep green stone, a perfect oval of jade, seemed to catch the light in just the right way, sparkling like a whisper of hope. I could feel a protective instinct rising within me, the need to keep it safe. “It's called Hope Jade,” I replied, my voice softer than I intended. “It belonged to my father.” Her fingers twitched with excitement as she leaned in closer. “Can I try it on?” she asked, a pleading look in her eyes. I hesitated. “Savvy, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s—” “Please!” she interrupted, her voice almost whiny, the familiar stubbornness creeping in. “Just for a minute?” I felt the tug-of-war between wanting to indulge her and the protective instinct that flared to life. “No, it’s not just a piece of jewelry. It’s special to me.” But her persistence only grew stronger. “Come on, Sabrina. Just let me see how it looks! It can’t hurt anything.” Before I could react, she reached for the box, and I instinctively pulled it back. “Savvy!” I exclaimed, trying to keep my grip on the box. “Stop!” In the struggle, the box tipped, and the Hope Jade slipped through my fingers. I watched in slow motion as it hit the floor, the sound echoing in the silence like a gunshot. The clasp broke upon impact, and the jade rolled away from us, its shine dulled by the difference with the floor. Savvy gasped, eyes wide, and the sudden stillness that followed felt suffocating. “Why would you do that?” she cried, falling to her knees to pick up the broken pieces. “You’re so mean, Sabrina!” “Me? You were the one trying to take it without asking!” I shot back, fury burning in my chest. But it was too late. Harvey and Nicolas appeared almost immediately, concern etched across their faces as they rushed to Savvy’s side. “What happened?” Harvey asked, glancing between us. “Sabrina, what did you do?” “Nothing! I was just—” Savvy cut me off, her voice quivering. “She broke it! She doesn’t care about me or my feelings!” Nicolas knelt down next to Savvy, taking the jade in his hands as if it were something fragile and delicate. “Sabrina,” he said, a disappointed edge creeping into his tone, “this was an inexpensive piece of jewelry. You didn’t need to be so harsh.” “Not just a piece!” I yelled, the anger bubbling over. “Nor do I care if it is inexpensive jewelry. It was meant to be worn on my wedding day!” “Exactly, your groom can always get you another one.” Harvey interjected, his brow furrowing in concern for Savvy. I caught the use of your groom rather than me and Nicolas. I swallowed at that. “As the elder cousin, you should know better. Just let it go.” Harvey added. Savvy sniffed, her voice rising as she continued to play the victim. “I can’t believe you would hurt me over something so trivial! You’re just mean, Sabrina! Even to Lovely, my friend!” That hit me like a punch to the gut. Lovely was one of Savvy’s friends, but I didn’t even know her well enough to have an opinion. “Savvy,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “this isn’t about that—” “Just apologize,” Nicolas demanded, cutting me off, not even glancing at the small cut on my palm where the broken clasp had sliced through my skin. “I’m not going to apologize for wanting to keep something that is important to me.” I snapped back as calmly as I could, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. “God, Sabrina!” Harvey exclaimed, exasperated. “Why can’t you just be the bigger person for once?” I felt rage and pain coiling tightly in my chest, a dark storm building, but yet I tried to find the strength to bury it deep within me. Why was I the one who always had to take the high road? How many times had I played nice when they laughed off the taunts back at school? The ones who called me a puppy for Harvey and Nicolas, or worse, the ones who branded me as a slut for being “so love-struck” with them? The thinness of my frame had made me an easy target. All those times they laughed it off, never realizing how it hurt. “You don’t get it,” I said, my voice quivering now, the pain clawing at my throat. “You never have. This isn’t just about the jewelry.” Harvey stepped closer, his eyes softer now, but still firm. “Then what is it? Why are you being so stubborn?” The truth hung heavy in the air, something I was terrified to say out loud. “Because it’s not just a piece of jewelry. It’s part of my future, of my history. It’s… It's important.” Was the last thing I could make out. At the end of the sentence I felt deflated and exhausted, unsure what were the right words to say anymore. The room fell silent, the heaviness of my words sinking in. Savvy wiped her eyes, and Nicolas shifted uncomfortably, while Harvey’s expression softened, realizing he had pushed too far. “I didn’t mean to—” I started, but the moment was broken by my phone ringing again, shattering the tension like glass. I glanced down and saw my mother’s name flash on the screen. “Excuse me,” I muttered, stepping away from the gathering storm of emotions in the room. “Mom?” I answered, my heart racing as I felt the need for her familiar presence. “Sabrina,” she said, her voice warm yet weary. “Have you booked your flight yet? I really want to see you soon.” I felt my stomach drop, the reminder of the impending visit hitting me. “I’m looking into it, Mom,” I replied, forcing a calmness into my tone. “I promise I’ll arrange something soon.” Harvey and Nicolas exchanged glances, curiosity in their eyes. “What’s going on?” Nicolas asked, stepping closer, trying to catch a glimpse of my conversation. “It’s nothing,” I shot back, hoping to keep my mother’s worries private. But their interest only grew, and I felt their presence pressing down on me. “Are you sure?” Harvey pushed, a hint of concern lacing his tone. “Is something wrong?” I glanced back at Savvy, who was still sitting on the floor, clutching the broken clasp. The room felt too small, the walls closing in, and I knew I had to keep this together. “It’s just about my mom. It's not really anything important,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. They nodded, but the tension in the air remained thick, unresolved. I hung up and turned to them, ready to deflect their questions, but the truth was heavy on my heart. I had so much to sort through, and at that moment, I didn’t know if I could bear it all. Of course it was Savvy that had to speak. “It didn't sound like nothing, Brina, you even seem flustered.”

I cleared my truth as I said. “There’s this jewelry show tomorrow,” I said, looking between them. “It’s supposed to be really unique. Thought maybe you’d want to come with me?” Harvey looked up from his phone, his expression unreadable, and I felt a flicker of hope. Nicolas, too, paused what he was doing beside Savvy, his gaze briefly meeting mine. For a second, I could see us together, the three of us laughing and enjoying ourselves, maybe even grabbing a late dinner afterward to talk about all the ridiculous, over-the-top pieces we’d seen. But then, Harvey’s eyes slid over to Savvy. “Actually… we told Savvy we’d hang out,” he said, almost apologetic. “We’ve been kind of behind on plans with her, you know?” I felt my stomach drop a little. I tried to keep my voice light, pretending it didn’t matter. “Oh. Right, of course. I get it.” “Yeah, sorry, Sabrina,” Nicolas added with a slight shrug, giving Savvy a small, affectionate smile. “We can catch the next one, maybe? It’s just… we already promised her.” I nodded, fighting to keep my disappointment from showing. I didn’t want them to see how much it hurt, how I felt like a kid left out of a game. “No, it’s fine,” I said quickly, plastering a smile on my face. “I totally understand. You guys have fun.” But the sting was there, sharp and undeniable. I tried to ignore the uncomfortable knot in my stomach as I headed to my bedroom. Lying in bed later, staring at the ceiling, I felt foolish for being so affected. It was just a jewelry show. It wasn’t a big deal, really—so why did it feel like I’d lost something more? I woke up early that morning, still a little stung from last night.I knew they didn’t care about glitz or designer pieces, but I’d hoped they still cared about me even if it was just a little. Instead, they’d made some excuse about wanting to spend time with Savvy—again. I tried to ignore the feeling it stirred up, that gnawing insecurity that seemed to creep in more and more whenever she was around. Still, today was going to be different. New York was alive and humming, and I wasn’t going to let last night’s rejection ruin my mood. I left my bedroom and moved toward the kitchen, my bare feet cool against the marble floors of our apartment. I froze as I caught Savvy’s voice drifting from around the corner. “... she’s so uptight, you know?” I heard her murmur, her tone sweet but sharp-edged. I edged closer, quietly stepping just near the doorway, enough to overhear but not be seen. She was on the phone. “She’s so self-important, like she’s the only one who matters,” she continued. “It’s no wonder Harvey and Nic spend so much time with me now.” Lovely’s voice crackled faintly on the other end of the line, and Savvy giggled, the sound making my skin prickle. I had to take a deep breath, trying to swallow down the growing ache of her words. I’d always felt that Savvy didn’t like me, but I’d never imagined she would be so… cruel about it. The fact that Harvey and Nic didn’t see through her manipulative charm stung even more. When I finally walked into the room, she ended the call with a smile, her eyes darting toward Harvey and Nic, who were perched on the kitchen stools, watching her with fond amusement. Savvy glanced up at me, her grin widening. “Oh, Sabrina, you’re just in time!” she chirped, holding out a plate toward me. Nestled on it was a neatly frosted cupcake. “I made these myself.” I forced a smile, even as something in me recoiled. I didn’t want to indulge her—didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. But Harvey and Nic were watching me expectantly, their expressions so relaxed, so… trusting. Did they not see what I did? “Sabrina, come on,” Nic said, urging me with a smirk. “Don’t be rude. You’ve been… distant lately. It’s not a big deal to try one, right?” The remark stung, and before I could respond, Harvey chimed in. “Yeah, you should at least taste it. Savvy went to the trouble of making these for us.” His tone was casual, but his gaze held a subtle challenge. They weren’t asking—they were demanding, their eyes silently accusing me of looking down on her. I bit back a sigh, knowing that no answer I gave would satisfy them. So, reluctantly, I reached out, taking one of the small cupcakes. I took a hesitant nibble, hoping a small taste would be enough to make them happy. As soon as the flavor hit my tongue, alarm shot through me. Almond. I could taste it immediately, that distinct, slightly bitter taste. My heart skipped a beat as I looked up, trying to keep my voice steady. “Savvy, what’s in this?” I asked, desperately trying to hide my panic. She blinked, looking slightly taken aback. “Oh, just a touch of almond extract,” she replied breezily. “For flavor.” The fear rose in my throat, thick and suffocating. “I—I’m I’m,” I managed to choke out, tossing the cupcake aside as the reaction began to set in. Harvey scowled, his expression darkening. “What’s wrong with you, Sabrina? Savvy put effort into these, and you’re just… throwing it on the ground?” I could barely hear him. My throat was starting to feel tight, my breathing more labored. I didn’t have time to argue, didn’t have time to explain. I turned away, shakily grabbing my phone, dialing 911 as I felt my hands trembling. Through the haze of my panic, I could hear Savvy’s voice in the background, a faint thread of feigned concern winding through her tone. “Why is she acting like that? Was my cupcake really that bad? Is she usually this dramatic?” “No, Sav, your cupcake is amazing, Sabrina is just….” Nicolas trailed off with gritted teeth. Harvey’s low, exasperated murmur reached me. “It’s Sabrina. You know how she is.” The operator picked up, and I managed to tell them my address and explain my reaction, though my words felt thick and heavy. I could feel my vision swimming as the reaction took hold. But I couldn’t forget the last thing I’d overheard: the dismissive indifference in their voices as they spoke about me, as though I were just an inconvenience in the middle of their perfect morning. I stumbled to the living room and dropped onto the couch, waiting for the help I knew was coming. The irony of it was almost laughable. Here I was, fighting for air in my own home, the place that was supposed to be safe—a place I had built with them, where I should feel loved, protected. Harvey and Nic finally came over, their expressions more annoyed than concerned. Nic knelt beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder as though to keep me still. “Jesus Christ, Brina, why do you have to be so fucking dramatic about everything?” he said, his tone irritated rather than reassuring. I glanced at him, my breath hitching painfully. I couldn’t believe it—couldn’t believe any of it. These were the two people I’d given everything to, the two people I trusted most. And in my moment of vulnerability, they stood there, indifferent. Savvy watched from the doorway, her expression unreadable, but her lips were curled into a subtle, satisfied smile.

The taste of almond lingered bitterly in my mouth as I gasped for air, trying to fight off the rapid swelling in my throat. “I’m… aller-,” I managed to choke out, pointing to the cupcake on the floor. I’d tossed it aside in panic, but Harvey and Nicolas seemed oblivious to the severity of my reaction. Nicolas folded his arms, his expression both irritated and perplexed. “Sabrina, what is wrong with you lately? This is so unlike you. You’re acting… unreasonable.” “Unrecognizable, even,” Harvey added with a disapproving frown. I stared at them in disbelief, my vision beginning to blur. Between gasps, I forced the words out, desperation making my voice tremble. “It… it had almond in it. You both know… I’m allergic. Remember how you used to… protect me?” Silence filled the room as the reality of my words began to sink in. Harvey’s face shifted, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Nicolas looked down, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. “We’re sorry,” Nicolas muttered, though his tone was stiff, as though he was embarrassed to admit they’d overstepped. “But… you should know Savvy put a lot of effort into making those cupcakes. She didn’t know.” “Yeah,” Harvey chimed in, glancing over at Savvy, who was standing a few feet away, looking wounded and on the verge of tears. “She tried her best. The least you could’ve done was appreciate that, Sabrina.” The pang of betrayal stung more deeply than the allergic reaction itself. But there was no use in arguing. They were already looking past me, moving toward Savvy, murmuring reassurances and offering comforting smiles. The doorbell rang, and I turned as two paramedics stepped inside. Harvey gave me a quick, dismissive glance, then turned back to Savvy, his arm around her shoulder, comforting her as if she were the one suffering. I went with the paramedics in silence, my throat closing tighter with each second, both from the reaction and the ache of betrayal. By the time we reached the hospital, I felt as though I’d left more than just that cupcake on the floor. A part of me—the part that had once trusted Harvey and Nicolas more than anyone in the world—was crumbling away. --- I spent the next few days in recovery, alone in my hospital bed, replaying the events over and over. I was exhausted from hoping that one day they’d see me again—the real me, the Sabrina they’d once protected, cared about, and maybe even loved. But as each hour passed, the feeling that something had irrevocably changed between us solidified. I couldn’t stay somewhere that left me feeling so unseen. As soon as I was discharged, I packed my things, each item a reminder of moments that now felt tainted. It wasn’t just the apartment—it was my father’s house, the place I’d inherited and tried to fill with new memories, with love. Now it felt empty, like a hollow shell. As I walked through each room, packing up fragments of my life, the walls seemed to close in, the familiar spaces now thick with silence. My fingers brushed the edge of the kitchen counter where I’d once sat with Harvey and Nicolas, laughing until we cried over burnt pancakes that neither of us wanted to admit were our fault. I remembered us dancing in the dim light of the living room, spinning wildly to an old jazz record of my father’s, their laughter mixing with mine. Now, the countertop felt cold under my hand, the laughter replaced by a hollow quiet that echoed back every step. I reached for a framed photo of my father, his warm smile meeting mine, and the ache in my chest deepened. This house had been his dream, every corner of it filled with pieces of him—the worn armchair by the window, the shelf he’d built himself in the study, the smell of his cologne still lingering in his closet. As I sealed up the last box, I looked around one final time, trying to feel the love I’d once put into these walls, hoping I’d feel the warmth that had carried me through countless nights. But all I saw were empty spaces where memories once lived. It was as though the house itself had already let go, waiting for someone who could see past the echoes and turn it into a home again. I handed the keys over to my father’s old colleague that afternoon, his hand lingering on mine as he looked at me with a knowing sadness. "I'll take good care of it, Sabrina. Your father… he'd be proud.” I nodded, swallowing hard. “I know you will. Thank you.” And as I turned away, the weight of the house finally lifted, leaving nothing but a quiet acceptance in its place. --- Weeks later, I was sitting at my favorite coffee shop, that familiar buzz of excitement and nervousness swirling in my stomach as I glanced at the door. Harvey and Nicolas had reached out, asking if I’d meet them for coffee. A small spark of hope lit up inside me, despite everything. Maybe… maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe they’d realized what they’d lost, what I’d been trying to hold onto all these years. I looked down at the steaming cup of coffee in front of me, tracing the rim with my finger, just as the two of them slid into the booth across from me. “Sabrina,” Harvey started, his gaze level but distant. “Thanks for coming.” Nicolas nodded, though his expression seemed more curious than apologetic. “So, we heard you sold the house.” I felt a little flutter in my chest as I nodded, wondering if they’d bring up the real reason I’d left—the hurt and the distance that had been growing between us. But instead, Harvey raised an eyebrow, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation. “Don’t you think that was… extreme?” he asked, watching me carefully. “I mean, over a minor incident with a cupcake?” I blinked, the words sinking in like a slap. “Minor?” I echoed, trying to keep my tone even. “It wasn’t just about the allergy—it was about you two not… seeing me. You were too focused on Savvy to even notice.” Nicolas tilted his head, frowning thoughtfully. “We didn’t think it was that serious, Sabrina. Maybe you’ve been feeling down lately? You know, stressed? We thought a trip might help.” I forced myself to swallow back my frustration, looking away from the worry in their faces that somehow still wasn’t really for me. “I… appreciate the thought.” Harvey’s eyes lit up. “We could all go together, just us… and, you know, maybe Savvy could come too? We don’t want to leave her out.” “Yeah,” Nicolas agreed, flashing a grin. “If it’d make Savvy happy, why not? Maybe Lovely could tag along too. They’re so close, after all.” For a moment, the words tangled in my throat, the sharp reminder of how distant we’d grown echoing between us. But then, a strange calm settled over me. “Actually, I bought a camper van,” I replied, my voice steady. “It’s perfect for a road trip.” Harvey and Nicolas exchanged glances, and to my surprise, their eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing!” Nicolas said, leaning forward. “Savvy would love it. We could get some supplies, make it a whole adventure.” I smiled, but this time, it was for me. Let them have their trip, their perfect little setup. I’d already made my choice. As they started planning, eagerly discussing how much fun Savvy would have, I felt a weight lift.

I’d barely been able to catch my breath after leaving the house. Every step forward seemed like it came at a cost, as if I were leaving pieces of myself in my wake. But I needed this visit, a final goodbye to a man who had been my steady light after Dad was gone, someone who’d taught me how to balance accounts, how to shoulder the weight of a business, how to find myself. As I walked into the familiar corridors of the nursing home, the antiseptic smell stung my nose, reminding me of every visit, of the faint warmth in my grandfather’s gaze that always soothed the worst parts of my day. I found him in his favorite armchair by the window, light streaming onto his face, making him look every bit the strong, quiet force he’d always been for me. He looked up and smiled as I approached, but there was a question in his eyes, as if he already knew why I’d come today. "Grandpa," I managed, my voice soft, barely audible as I sat beside him. "I... I wanted to thank you. For everything." He placed a gentle, weathered hand over mine. "I’m proud of you, Sabrina. You've come so far." I felt the familiar burn in my eyes, and before I knew it, tears slid down my cheeks, uninvited and impossible to stop. “I’ll keep making you proud. Even if it’s from a little further away.” His gaze softened, and he gave a small nod, swallowing his own emotions. "That's all I ask, sweetheart." I took a deep breath, letting his words sink in, but my voice came out shakier than I’d like. “You know, you’re just saying that because you’re my grandpa. Bound by the law of unconditional love and all that.” He chuckled, the sound rich and familiar, like a soft blanket on a cold day. “Ah, but I’m also a retired lawyer, remember? I know a thing or two about judgment.” “Oh, I know.” I smiled, rolling my eyes. “You’re like the master of judgment.” “Master of judgment?” he raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Don’t forget—I’m also the master of checkers, Scrabble, and—let’s not forget—pancake-flipping. Who taught you those skills, young lady?” “You didn’t ‘teach’ me, you just cheated less when I got older.” I nudged his shoulder lightly, letting out a small laugh as he raised both hands as if conceding. “Besides, I think I was flipping pancakes better than you by age twelve.” “Ah,” he said, nodding with a wise, exaggerated look. “That’s called a legacy, Sabrina. A master leaves the apprentice his skills, and then watches them thrive.” “Oh, is that what it’s called?” I teased, feeling lighter, the tension between us melting away. “And here I thought it was just you letting me ‘accidentally’ win so I’d want to make you breakfast every Sunday.” He grinned, his eyes sparkling with the warmth of countless Sunday mornings. “Now that,” he said, lowering his voice to a mock-conspiratorial tone, “was just good strategy.” I laughed, shaking my head. “You know, Grandpa, you’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise, you’d be in trouble for admitting you used me to get free pancakes.” “Used you?” He put a hand to his chest, pretending to be wounded. “You wound me, child. I was merely a humble old man, teaching his granddaughter the fine art of the griddle.” I let out a snort, swiping at a stray tear. “Okay, Grandpa,” I said, smiling. “We’ll pretend that’s the truth. Just for today.” He squeezed my hand, leaning in a little closer. “You were always smarter than me, Sabrina. That’s why I never needed to worry about you.” “Even now?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. He nodded, giving my hand a little shake. “Especially now. You have your father’s strength and your mother’s kindness, Sabrina. That’s what makes you special, not the house or the company. I know you’re doing what you need to do.” A quiet settled over us, one of those moments where neither of us had to say anything because we understood. And I knew that even though I’d be leaving, part of me would always be here with him. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, not wanting him to hear the worry there. “I’ve got my crossword puzzles, my nosy neighbors, and the nurses who pretend I’m charming,” he replied, flashing a grin. “And, you know, the occasional visit from my granddaughter to make sure I’m not scaring off the staff.” “Just don’t get too bold with the nurses, okay? I’m not ready to hear you’re causing trouble around here.” “Oh, don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “They like a little trouble. Keeps life interesting.” I shook my head, laughing. “I can’t believe this is real life. You’re incorrigible.” “Don’t pretend you’re not proud of it,” he said, giving my hand a reassuring pat. “Now, no more worrying. Go out there and make your own trouble.” I wanted to stay in that moment, wanted to cling to every word and store it in a corner of my mind I could revisit anytime. But the goodbye was looming, and no amount of warm words could erase that. He must have felt it too, because his expression softened, and he took my hand, folding it between both of his. “You’ll come back and visit me, won’t you?” he asked, a bit of that rare vulnerability slipping through. “Of course, Grandpa,” I whispered, my voice tight as I fought back a fresh wave of tears. “You’ll always be my favorite person to make pancakes for.” “Well,” he said, his voice lowering to a gravelly whisper, as if he were revealing a great secret. “Then I guess you’d better bring syrup when you come. The good stuff.” “Deal,” I said, laughing, even though my heart felt like it was breaking. “None of that imitation nonsense. Only the best for you.” He leaned back, satisfied, his eyes misty as he looked at me. “Good girl. Now, off you go before I get soft on you and start crying too.” For a moment, it was just us. No heaviness of past decisions or the ache of lingering disappointments. But just as I was about to say my goodbyes, footsteps sounded down the hall, and my heart sank as Harvey and Nicolas appeared, followed by Savvy. Of all times. They were smiling as they walked in, Savvy chattering into her phone. Her voice bubbled over, “Oh, Lovely, I’m sad you couldn’t join us today! And I know Harvey and Nic are missing our little pup, too!” My eyes flickered to Harvey and Nicolas, standing at her sides like pillars, so involved in her life it was hard to remember when they’d felt that way about me. A hollow pang settled in my stomach. How many times had I begged them to get a pet together? Something that would feel like it was ours, a little commitment. But they’d both brushed it off, saying they didn’t have time for ‘childish’ things, that a pet was something people with real commitments like marriage made together. Marriage. What was so hard about marrying me? To have a family, children m, loving husband. I swallowed, and that was why I had to leave. They couldn’t give me these things. No, they didn’t want to. I forced a smile, pushing the jealousy down. “Hey, guys.” I greeted them, trying to keep things light, even as I felt my heart tugging at the sight of Savvy between them, so at ease in a space that had once been ours. Harvey’s gaze drifted over me, taking in the redness of my eyes. “You okay, Sabrina?” he asked, a hint of concern there, but tempered by a faint distance. Nicolas looked between me and my grandfather, clearly noticing the tears. I laughed it off, shrugging. “Just saying goodbye. You know how Grandpa is, he always gets a little emotional.” I squeezed my grandfather’s hand, and he smiled, knowing full well why I’d chosen to brush off their questions. Savvy, still on her phone, laughed suddenly at something Lovely had said. She turned, glancing at me with a smirk. “Oh, you know, Sabrina,” she began, as if we were friends, “we were just talking about how nice it would be if Lovely could come visit. She’s dying to meet Harvey and Nic’s dog. It’s just so cute!” My throat tightened, and I kept my gaze locked on my grandfather, even as the words cut deeper than I’d expected. “Sounds...nice,” I managed to say, forcing another smile as I straightened, brushing off my blouse. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to intrude on your visit.” But as I turned to leave, Harvey reached out, catching my arm. His grip was firm, like he wasn’t ready to let me walk out just yet. “Wait, Sabrina. We hardly got to see you. Can’t you stay a bit longer?” I looked up at him, feeling the familiar pull of his presence, that soft ache that always felt like home but never seemed to be mine alone anymore. Nicolas stepped closer, his eyes scanning my face, searching, as if he were trying to understand something he hadn’t considered before. And yet, all I could feel was the weight of Savvy’s gaze on me, the girl who had somehow, inexplicably, become a center in their lives that I couldn’t seem to break through. I could still feel Harvey’s and Nicolas’s pleading eyes on me as I left the nursing home, their voices asking me to stay, to join them for just one meal. But I had no more time to spend on their empty gestures. “Sorry, I have to be at the jewelry show,” I’d said, and I could see the confusion ripple across their faces. They didn’t get it—how could they? They still thought I was theirs to hold onto when convenient, never expecting I might want more.

Two days later, Back at my apartment, I began to pack, folding clothes I’d barely worn and slipping in a few keepsakes I wanted close. My phone rang, and Savvy’s name lit up on the screen. Just what I needed. “Hello?” I answered, trying to keep my tone light. “Hey!” Savvy chirped, her voice sickly sweet. “I just got off the phone with Grandpa. Can you believe he’s actually considering leaving the entire nursing home to me? I mean, isn’t that so generous?” I felt my stomach twist. She said it so casually, as if it were only natural for her to take over pieces of my life, piece by piece, without so much as a second thought. “Wow, that’s… surprising,” I managed, not trusting myself to say more. “Yeah, Harvey and Nicolas have been so sweet about it too. They introduced me to their families last weekend. I don’t know what I’d do without them.” I could practically hear the smug smile on her face. “Anyway, just thought I’d share the news! Toodles!” She hung up before I could say anything else. I stood there for a moment, staring at the phone, then shook my head. Savvy was someone else’s problem now. “Bree,” I muttered, dialing my friend. “Can you drive me to the airport?” Within minutes, Bree was at my door, her familiar black lipstick, studded jacket, and the unfazed expression I’d always counted on waiting for me. As I hauled my bags to the curb, her enormous, hostile Maine Coon, Morticia, eyed me from the passenger seat with that same feline judgment. “I don’t know why you don’t just leave without telling them anything,” Bree said as I buckled myself in, her tone flippant but her gaze sharp. “Let them realize what they’ve lost after you’re gone.” “Trust me, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” I replied, gripping the handle as we pulled into New York traffic. “But I just needed one last chance to say goodbye. Even if they’ll never understand.” She snorted. “Oh, they won’t understand, all right. They never did. They were too busy scaring off anyone who ever showed any interest in you. Did you know, every single guy who tried to ask you out backed off after a single conversation with those two?” I frowned, glancing at her. “I thought they were just… overprotective.” “Overprotective?” Bree let out a sharp laugh. “More like they enjoyed watching people bully you. Every time some guy said you weren’t good enough, they’d get that strange, gleeful look in their eyes. But you were too wrapped up in them to see it.” Morticia gave a yowl from her perch, as if agreeing. I tried to ignore the pang in my chest, focusing on the road ahead instead. “I stayed because it was my home. Not just because of them.” “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Bree replied with a knowing glance. “But don’t pretend they were ever right for you.” Just as I opened my mouth to respond, Bree hit the brakes. “Oh, fantastic,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she looked in the rearview mirror. I glanced back, and my heart sank. Harvey, Nicolas, and Savvy were standing on the steps of my apartment building, watching us. I hadn’t expected them to come after me, not this soon. “Oh, look who decided to show up,” Bree said, rolling her eyes. “They couldn’t wait until you left, could they?” As I climbed out of the car, Harvey and Nicolas stepped forward, their expressions a mix of confusion and hurt. “Sabrina,” Nicolas started, his voice unsteady. “Are you… leaving for good?” I hesitated, my throat tightening as I felt the weight of their stares. “Yes,” I said, the word heavy and final.