Drew stared at the ceiling, his body sinking into the too big bed. It used to feel just right — when you were curled up next to him, your leg thrown over his, stealing the blankets. Now, the sheets were cold, and the silence was deafening.

The radio played softly in the background, and then — your song. The one you’d hum while making coffee, the one he’d catch you singing in the shower. But now, it didn’t sound the same. Not without you.

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. Pathetic. That’s what he’d become.

It was worse when his friends mentioned you. Casual comments, a passing mention of your name, social media, but it tore him apart every damn time.

He’d force a tight lipped smile, nod along, but inside? God, it wrecked him.

Because now, you were dancing with someone else.

Drew sat up, running a hand through his hair. His pride, his ego — he used to think they were worth something.

But what had they really done? Driven you away. Made you think he didn’t care enough. And maybe, back then, he hadn’t known how to show it. But now, he did.

He should’ve bought you flowers. Should’ve held your hand every chance he got. Should’ve given you all his time instead of always thinking there’d be more. He thought you’d always be there.

Now, he could only hope the new guy was doing everything he didn’t.

Then three knocks at the door.

Drew frowned, dragging himself off the bed. And there you were. Standing on his doorstep, gripping a crumpled piece of paper in your hand.

His chest tightened. He knew what it was before you even spoke.

“Found this while I was cleaning,” you said, voice clipped, holding it up. “Unsent. Unfinished. Care to explain?”

Drew’s throat went dry. He stared at the letter, the one he never had the guts to give you. The one where he wrote down everything he couldn’t say out loud. The one where he admitted he loved you.

And now, you were standing there, waiting.

Waiting for the truth.