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Me: I stopped in the bar of the pool hall on my way home. I considered staying, but it would have been wrong for me to relive our memories all by myself.

Continuing to read through each sappy message, my eyes filled to the brim with tears as if right on cue.

Every damn thing reminded me of him, and it seemed impossible not to break down in these quiet moments alone without a coworker or roommate over my shoulder.

Every time I walked into work, I thought about how he was the one to give me such a life-changing opportunity. Each time I walked out, I realized that I would be driving to my apartment when I used to spend my nights comfortably curled up in his bed. Every conversation I had with my brother over the phone, I was reminded that Hunter was the one to give me the courage to open my heart back up to having a relationship with him. Family dinners felt less like family without him there. When I sat at the bar to visit Colton at work, I remembered the time when Hunter and I got drinks for the first time. Or when I sat with my girls and told them I landed a new job—all credit going to Hunter.

When the fuck would this get easier? How long would I have to stand on my own two feet without closure?

Every single day, I fought the urge to drive over to the house he so easily kicked me out of, and barge through the door, straight into his arms, and fucking beg him to see me as someone who could measure up to his late wife.

I promise I could be good enough for you, Hunter.

Tears streamed down my face, and the beating organ in my chest thumped a little lighter without him near me. Everything in me wanted to believe this would all work itself out, but I truly didn’t know if Hunter would ever be ready to let someone back in again. Not after everything he was going through.

It wasn’t normal for me to share those three words with anyone outside of my closest friends, and when I said them to him, I meant every damn word. What did I have to lose by telling him one more time?

My fingers hovered over the bright screen blinding my glossed-over eyes.

Maybe if I took one for the team, risked putting those three words in writing, letting them be the last words to linger between us, he’d eventually be ready to talk. Or maybe he’d never get to that point, but at least he’d know that even a couple of weeks later, I still loved him as much as I did the day he asked me to leave.

Me: I love you, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry you’re in pain.

I’m sorry our timing was awful.

I’m sorry Sarah’s not here.

I’m sorry I caused you a world of hurt by bringing up your past and stumbling upon that video.

I’m sorry that nothing went according to your life plan.

I’m so, so sorry, Hunter.

But I’m not sorry that I fell in love with you.

Pressing send, I didn’t allow myself to feel regret, only peace with the fact that I was telling him the truth.

The reality was that I’d always love him. He’d always be my first true love. The type of love where my heart beat solely for him, and now that I was pretending to be okay without his presence, it beat just to survive.

Sometimes, the only way to protect your heart was to break it first.

The chilling thought I’d held on to from the night I read Logan’s letter came back to haunt me. But this time, I was completely unaware of who broke whose heart.

Sarah broke Hunter’s heart.

Hunter broke my heart.

We were both living in a cycle of broken hearts.

But no one had really been to blame, only terrible fucking timing and shitty luck.

All I knew was that my heart had a hole right through the center of it, and I felt the emptiness of it every time I took a breath.

Before I finally left the arena parking lot, I sent a text to my two best friends and hoped with everything in me that they would be waiting for me at my apartment when I got there.

Me: SOS. I really need you both.