Part 3The Perfect Substitute

That day, Damian kicked me out of the car on the side of the highway.

It was pouring rain.

When I finally got home, I was soaked to the bone, shivering uncontrollably.

I wrapped myself in a duvet and stared at a photo on my phone. My finger traced the small beauty mark—a teardrop mole—under the man’s eye.

I touched the screen gently, afraid I might startle him.

I drifted into a feverish sleep and dreamt of my sophomore year of high school.

The mid-term results were posted. I was Valedictorian again.

Standard procedure.

But then, a boy blocked my path and extended his hand.

"Hi, Sierra. I'm Jax. I'm the guy who’s been stuck in second place behind you for eternity. Maybe you'll remember me this time."

He was handsome, with eyes that crinkled into crescents when he smiled. The sunlight hit him from behind, giving him a golden halo.

I couldn't look away.

Before graduation, we lay on the school rooftop, staring at the blue sky. He said, "Sierra, my dream is to be a cop. To serve the people... and to be on call for you, 24/7."

Later, I saw him in his uniform, standing tall as a pine tree, looking at me with that familiar gentleness. "Sierra, when I get back from this mission, let's get married."

But he never came back.

It has been ten years.

I woke up crying.

Outside, the sky was pitch black. The moonlight spilled through the window. I reached out to grab it, but my hand closed around empty air.

I suddenly felt...

That the thing I cared about most, I would never get back.

I curled up on the bed, my heart aching physically.

My hand gripped my phone tight.

Like I was holding onto the last shred of light.

"Jax..."