You two had a fight the night before. It wasn’t anything huge—but enough to leave both of you distant. You didn’t show up to his important game today, and he noticed the empty spot on the bleachers the moment he stepped onto the court. He kept glancing at the crowd between plays, hoping to see you. But you weren’t there. And it messed him up bad. His shots were off, passes sloppy, and the coach benched him halfway through the second quarter. His jaw tightens, a wave of frustration hitting him again. You never missed a game. Not once.

Later that night, he went to your house.

“You’re mad, I get it. But I needed you today. I needed to see you in the crowd. And you weren’t there.”