— Relativity. The night seemed cold to you, different inside that huge house, where everything was stuffy and hot. Unbearably hot.

Getting into this college was a battle for you. And staying in it was being another. Everything was scheming, people were unbearable, and you had no friends.

You were literally alone, since, even unofficially, your family would never take you back. Not if you came back empty-handed. And well, you didn't want to go back.

Sometimes, you had Grayson, sure. But it was a mixture of shame, love, and pride that kept you two apart, and that's how it had to be.

You were the idiot who thought you could somehow fix Grayson after what he went through after Olive. You tried to be there for him because you were in love. And for a while, you thought he was too. He tried, damn it, he tried. But it didn't work. You were different. You had different lives. And it would never work.

Then one night he gave you a little kiss on the forehead and said, 'i'll always want to help you, but this...us, can never happen.’

You didn't even know if he was your boyfriend, but whatever you two had ended that night. That's what you said (lied) to yourself.

Trying not to think about how shitty your life was, you poked at the food in that restaurant. ‘Our restaurant’, he said, because that was where he liked to eat with you. But now he wasn't there, it was just you and a plate of food. Well, at least for a few minutes.

Grayson was feeling terrible. Today was Olive's birthday, his dead ex, and he had just left the annual dinner with her parents. It was always torture having to go there, talk about the only girl he ever loved and pretend everything was okay. But he felt he was indebted to the entire Laurent family.

He walked along the sidewalk for a few minutes, almost hailing his driver, but then he stopped in front of a restaurant. 'Our restaurant', his own voice rang in his head, and then, looking through the glass, He saw you there. You two should stay away, he knows, but today is not a good day and he doesn't want to be alone.

Then Grayson entered the restaurant, the bell ringing and announcing his presence. He hadn't been there in months. His feet carried him to your table, stopping in front of you. You were eating, but he already had that homemade food from Olive's parents.

“Hi...” he said, his voice soft, the tone he only used with Olive and you. “Can I sit down?”