Chapter 47: Chapter 47

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Chapter 14 Chapter 14 The only bright spot during my medical leave was that my Stanford early admission had been approved.

I’d be spared the senior year panic about college applications, Without a second thought, I submitted my request to transfer to AP classes.

My GPA had always qualified me for the advanced track. I’d only stayed in regular classes because that’s where Zephyr was.

Now, I wanted as much physical and mental distance as possible.

Different classes.

Different future.

Different life.

Zephyr stopped his attempts to see me.

All contact ceased completely.

In its place emerged his very public relationship with Katherine.

Even with him blocked, screenshots of their Instagram and Snapchat stories found their way to my phone, sent by friends who thought I’d “want to know.”

Before, his social media presence had been nearly nonexistent.

Black profile picture.

Private account.

Rarely posted.

The classic too–cool–to–care online persona.

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The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights Now suddenly, his profile photo was an andated puppy Matching Katherine’s bunny icon in a couples theme, Their feeds transformed into a daily relationship highlight reel, Every teenage romance cliché on display; Carefully arranged Bento boxes with heart–shaped contents, selfies sharing earbuds while studying, notebook margins filled with each other’s names, videos feeding campus strays together, matching silver bracelets glinting in the sunlight as they held hands...

The first few times I saw these posts, my chest tightened. I recognized the performance for what it was a show specifically designed for an audience of one; me, But gradually, that knot in my chest began to loosen.

My finger would hover over the “view story” button for a few seconds longer each time before I chose to close the app instead.

So Zephyr wasn’t incapable of treating a girl with respect–he just chose not to respect me.

He knew exactly how to be a caring boyfriend–he just decided I wasn’t worth the effort.

Each realization stung, but less sharply than the one before it.

Like a wound that hurts when touched but is visibly healing.

“Let it go, Phoebe,” I whispered to myself, setting my phone face–down.

“Their relationship has nothing to do with you anymore.”

I still felt twinges of something–not quite jealousy, more like phantom pain from an amputated limb–when mutual friends mentioned them.

But I was learning that emotional muscle memory takes time to reprogram.

Each day it got a little easier to redirect my thoughts when they wandered toward Zephyr.

He might be performing for my benefit, creating an elaborate show to prove I was missing out, but I was no longer in the audience.

12.48 The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights 40.5%

ممارستھ I was busy writing my own story–one where he was just a character from an early chapter, not the co autor douce imagined him to be.