Two weeks passed.
Two weeks of careful steps, quiet talks, and learning how to be together again. Mason didn't move back into the apartment right away. They agreed to take things slow—not because they didn't love each other, but because they wanted to get it right this time.
Athena started journaling again. She poured out everything she felt—the anger, the love, the lingering sadness, and the hope. Meanwhile, Mason showed up more—not just physically, but emotionally. He skipped a few late-night hangouts with the team just to walk Athena home from class. Sometimes, they didn't even talk. They just held hands and breathed.
Their friends noticed.
Harper backed off.
Eli stayed friendly but distant.
One Saturday afternoon, they sat at a tiny table on their balcony with mugs of cocoa, wrapped in the same blanket.
"You know," Mason said, nudging her playfully, "we're actually not terrible at this whole 'communication' thing when we try."
Athena chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Turns out yelling isn't the only way to express feelings. Who knew?"
He turned serious then. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"What made you say yes that night? At the coffee shop?"
She didn't answer right away. She watched a leaf float to the ground from a nearby tree, golden in the October sun.
"Because no one has ever made me feel more loved and more hurt at the same time. And I realized… I'd rather fight for us than wonder what could've been."
Mason kissed the top of her head. "I promise to be better. Not perfect. But better."
Athena smiled. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."
But life had a way of testing promises.
A week later, Mason was approached by a scout for a professional league.
And Athena? She was offered a once-in-a-lifetime internship in New York.
Different paths.
Different cities.
Same hearts.