Cora POV:

Isabela stayed that night. I could hear their muffled laughter, the creak of the floorboards from Cole's bedroom, and later, the low, intimate murmurs that drifted through the shared wall. Sleep was a distant, mocking concept. I got up, restless, and stumbled onto the balcony. The cool night air offered no comfort. I lit a cigarette, a habit I' d picked up in secret. The harsh, bitter taste mirrored the hollowness in my chest.

The next morning, I dragged myself downstairs, dark circles under my eyes. Isabela, radiant and annoyingly cheerful, was already at the breakfast table. She patted the seat next to her.

"Cora, darling, come sit! I was just asking Cole about his birthday party. What kind of cake do you think he'd like? Chocolate? Or something more exotic?"

My gaze drifted to her neck. A faint red mark, a hickey, marred her smooth skin. It was a small detail, but it felt like a branding iron pressed against my own flesh.

I remembered a day, years ago, when Cole and I walked along the beach, the salty air whipping our hair. "I love the sea, Cole," I'd told him, my voice full of childish wonder. He' d ruffled my hair. "Then we'll celebrate every one of your birthdays by the sea." His eyes, then, had held only me. Now, he avoided my gaze. He'd forgotten my allergic reactions, my preferences, my very essence.

He didn't just retract his love; he erased me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Cole's stern voice cut me off from the kitchen. "Isabela, if you want to know about my preferences, you should ask me directly."

Isabela pouted prettily. "I thought Cora would know best, darling. She's been with you for so long."

"I wouldn' t know," I said, forcing a brittle smile. "I don't really know Cole at all." I pushed back my chair, a bitter taste filling my mouth. I needed to get out.

"Cora," Cole's voice, sharp and cold, stopped me. "Where are you going?"

I flinched, my heart skipping a beat. "I have to go to the embassy. To get my visa processed."

Isabela blinked, surprised. "A visa? Are you traveling somewhere exciting? With a boyfriend, perhaps?"

Cole' s brow furrowed. His voice was laced with disapproval. "Cora, I've told you. No serious boyfriends before college. You need to focus on your studies."

His words were a cold, hard condemnation. I swallowed the protest forming on my tongue. What was the point of explaining? He wouldn't listen. He never did.

Isabela, ever the peacemaker, chuckled. "Oh, Cole, she's eighteen now. It's perfectly normal for her to be interested in boys. Don't be such an old fuddy-duddy." She looped her arm through Cole's, and they walked out of the kitchen together, their heads close.

I stood in the now-empty living room, my hands slowly clenching into fists. Eighteen. My entire eighteenth year, my only eighteenth year, had been sacrificed at the altar of his indifference.

I wouldn' t let my youth rot away in this hopeless, unrequited love.

I walked out of the house. A fine drizzle had begun, painting the world in shades of gray. The air was bone-chilling. I remembered rainy days when Cole would pick me up from school, shielding me under his umbrella. "You're my safe harbor, Cora," he'd once said. "I'll always keep you safe from the storm."

Safe from the storm, but not from you.

I gripped my small umbrella, forcing myself to step into the rain. I had to get used to walking alone.

After the embassy, instead of hailing a cab, my finger instinctively hovered over Cole' s social media icon. He had just posted. The caption read: "Perfect weather for an announcement."

My breath hitched. The image was a professional pre-wedding photo. Cole and Isabela, in full bridal attire, stood on a windswept cliff, their hands clasped. His smile, directed at her, was soft, genuine, full of a deep affection I had never received.

The comments section exploded with congratulations. "Congratulations, Cole!" "Finally!" "So happy for you two!"

A familiar pang of pain should have pierced my chest. But there was nothing. Just a hollow numbness. I typed a single comment: "Match made in heaven."

Cora POV:

After posting my comment, I found Cole' s profile again and tapped 'remove from special attention'. No more notifications, no more agonizing over his every move. I would use these last few days, these precious moments of solitude, to completely excise him from my heart. He was an infection, and I needed to be surgically clean.

I returned home to an empty house. The silence was deafening, cold and vast. I heated up a can of soup, eating it slowly, the bland taste a reflection of my mood. My phone buzzed. It was Isabela.

We won't be home tonight, love. Cole and I are having a romantic dinner, and then we're staying at a hotel. Don't wait up!

Attached were photos: a candlelit table, an expensive bottle of wine, and a plush hotel room with a rose petal-strewn bed. My fingers trembled as I typed back, "Okay."

A notification popped up from my high school group chat. Plans for a graduation party. I hesitated. I was leaving the state soon, starting a new life. This would be a final farewell, a chance to close this chapter. I decided to go.

Someone in the chat mentioned Cole. "Do you think Cole will show up? He always comes to our events."

I typed, "He won't be there."

They don't know, I thought. They don't know he rejected me. They don't know he has someone else now.

That night, sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned, fragments of dreams flitting through my mind. I saw Cole, the first time I ever truly noticed him, standing tall and aloof. Then, I saw him turn his back on me, walking away.

I woke with a gasp, my cheeks wet. If he had always been so cold, so distant, would I have fallen so deeply? Would I have understood the boundaries sooner? The most painful part, I realized, wasn't the rejection itself, but the stark contrast. To have been given all that warmth, all that affection, only for it to vanish overnight.

I got out of bed. My eyes fell on the suitcase, still sitting by the door, filled with the ghosts of our past. Just a few more days. I needed to get rid of everything. Clear out the physical space, clear out the emotional space.

I was dragging the now-packed suitcase down the stairs when the front door opened. Cole and Isabela walked in, their arms linked.

Cole's eyes narrowed on the suitcase. "Where are you going with that?" His voice was colder than the morning air.

"To the donation center," I said, my voice flat. "Just getting rid of some old things. I'm moving into the dorms at Juilliard. No need for clutter."

He didn't say a word. He simply walked over, took the suitcase from my hand, and tossed it into a pile of donate-ables by the door. Not even a second glance at the contents. My heart sank. He didn't care. He didn't care that those were the gifts he'd given me, the memories we shared.

He turned to me, his voice firm. "You won't be moving into the dorms. I'll call the admissions office and arrange for you to commute."

He's doing it for Isabela. The thought was a bitter acid in my mouth. He only cares about her convenience, not my future. I just nodded, turning and walking back up the stairs.

As I reached the landing, I heard Isabela' s soft voice drift up. "Is she angry, darling?"

Cole's reply was curt. "She's an adult now. She needs to learn independence."

I paused, my hand on the banister, then continued to my room. Yes, I am an adult. And I will make my own way.

Cora POV:

For the next few days, I stayed mostly in my room. Cole and Isabela were often out, sometimes not coming home until late. I found myself growing accustomed to their absence, to the quiet solitude of the house. I no longer cared where they went or what they did. My world was shrinking, but it was also preparing for a massive expansion.

Sunday arrived, and with it, the high school graduation party. One of my classmates handed me a drink, a fruity concoction that I barely tasted. This was a toast to my past, a farewell to the version of myself I was leaving behind.

After one drink, my head felt swimmy. I excused myself and stepped out into the hallway, needing air. Through the glass wall of the banquet room, I could see Cole. He was surrounded by a group of former teachers and parents, his charm on full display.

I forced myself to look away. But then I heard snippets of conversation from inside the room. "Can you believe Cole's engaged?" "And Cora, what's she going to do now? Still living with him?"

Then, his voice. Cold. Familiar. "Cora is an adult now. Her affairs are no longer my concern."

I stood frozen, head bowed, muttering to myself. "Yes. I am an adult. And Cole Wilson is no longer my concern."

I walked to the window, letting the cool breeze clear my head, then splashed cold water on my face in the restroom. When I emerged, slightly steadier, I collided with him. Cole. He was leaning against the wall, a whiskey glass in his hand, his eyes slightly glazed. Our eyes met.

"Cole, darling, are you quite alright?" Isabela's sweet voice broke the tension. She appeared from around the corner, her arm instantly wrapping around his. "You've had too much to drink."

Cole didn't answer me. He just looked at Isabela, a soft smile gracing his lips. He kissed her forehead tenderly, then swept her into his arms, carrying her easily. "Let's go home, my love."

I watched them disappear, my body rooted to the spot. It felt like an eternity. A classmate walked up to me, concern in her eyes. "Cora? Are you crying?"

I forced a laugh, wiping my eyes. "No, just got an eyelash in my eye."

She sighed, a sad sound. "I always thought Cole would protect you forever. He was so good to you. Remember how he always said you were his little princess, and he'd never let anything hurt you?"

My heart felt heavy, a cold stone in my chest. "We both have our own lives now," I said, the words tasting like ash. "We can't be tied together forever."

"Still," she mused, "I always thought you two would... you know. He always seemed like your boyfriend, not just your guardian."

My eyes stung again, but I didn't let the tears fall. Maybe some bonds are just destined to be temporary. He was my guardian, and I was his ward. Nothing more.

The party ended. As I stepped outside, the rain had started again. Cole and Isabela were waiting by a sleek black car. Cole's jaw was tight. "Cora, where have you been? It's late. You're becoming increasingly irresponsible."

Isabela gently squeezed his arm. "Darling, don't be so harsh. She's just having fun. Besides," she turned to me, a syrupy smile on her face, "you have Cole to protect you now, don't you? And soon, you'll have a boyfriend of your own, to protect you from the rain."

I walked behind them, head bowed. The rain intensified. Cole opened the car door for Isabela, holding the umbrella over her. The umbrella tilted, sheltering her completely, leaving his own shoulder exposed to the cold drops.

He used to do that for me. I remembered him always tilting the umbrella so I wouldn't get a single drop on me. "You're my delicate rose, Cora," he'd said. "You mustn't get wet."

A cold drop landed on my white dress, seeping through the fabric, chilling me to the bone. I looked up at the sky, letting the rain wash over my face. I was no longer his delicate rose. I would be my own sunflower, strong and resilient, reaching for the sun on my own.