When the email came, I almost deleted it, thinking it was another rejection.
Then I saw the subject line:
"Congratulations."
For a second, I couldn't breathe.
I read it again. And again. Just to be sure it wasn't a dream.
Then I laughed, an actual, ridiculous laugh that startled Grandma from the kitchen.
She came rushing in with her apron still on, flour dusting her hands.
"What's so funny, my child?"
I turned the screen to her, voice shaking.
"I got it, Grandma. The scholarship. To New Columbia."
For a moment, she just blinked, then her eyes filled up.
"Oh, Ash," she whispered, pulling me into a hug. "You did it."
Her voice cracked on that last word, and I felt her tears on my shoulder.
It wasn't just my victory. It was ours.
After everything, I was finally going to keep my promise.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept picturing Lena's face when I showed up, the way her eyes would widen, how she'd probably punch my arm for keeping it a surprise, then hug me till I couldn't breathe.
I wanted to see that light again.
The one I fell in love with.
So I started planning.
I bought a secondhand suitcase from the thrift shop down the street.
Grandma helped me fold shirts while lecturing me about "not living on instant noodles."
I told her I'd be fine, and she pretended to believe me.
I saved enough for a small gift: a silver bracelet with a tiny engraved charm shaped like a leaf.
It wasn't expensive, but it felt right.
Like a piece of home she could carry with her.
When I told Dad, he just stared at me for a long time.
He looked older than I remembered, like the years had finally caught up to him.
Then he nodded, slowly.
"You're… you're really going to New York?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling. "Full scholarship. I won't be a burden."
He shook his head and reached out, resting a hand on my shoulder.
"You were never a burden, Ash. I just… I didn't know how to be a good father. But your mom would've been proud."
That was the first time I'd seen him tear up.
The first time he'd spoken about Mom without falling apart.
I held his hand and looked into his eyes.
"Dad, I know you've always loved me. If I ask you for something, will you give it to me?"
I'd never asked him for anything before, so it must've surprised him.
Instead, he looked relieved, almost happy.
"Tell me, son. As long as it's in my power, I'll give it to you."
"Then stop drinking."
I'd wanted to talk to him about this for a long time, but now it felt necessary.
"It's killing you slowly, Dad. Grandma worries about you all the time. At least for her sake, please… save yourself."
He tensed up, but I kept going.
"I promise I'll work hard at college, find a good job, and pay off the debts. Things will change. And maybe… maybe one day Mom will come back with Josh."
Dad gave a hollow little laugh.
"You're trying to give me dreams, Ash. I just don't know if I still have it in me to believe in them."
"How can I leave for New York if I'm just going to worry about you all the time?"
I played my most powerful card, and it worked.
"Okay, Ash," he said finally. "I'll try my best."
I was so happy to hear it that I forgot my usual awkwardness and gave him a tight hug. Just like I used to when I was little.
It's crazy how things started changing ever since I learned I could see Lena again.
I can hope, dream, and believe once more.
When I told Grandma I was worried about leaving her, she shooed me away.
"I've survived worse things than a quiet house," she said. "Go live, my little leaf. The world's been waiting."
She'd been getting better lately; more color in her face, more energy in her voice.
So I let myself believe her.
The night before I left, I packed my bag carefully: clothes, my old notebooks, the bracelet in a small velvet pouch.
I took one last look around the house, breathing in the smell of cinnamon and old books.
I felt alive in a way I hadn't for years.
Hope, fragile and foolish, burning bright in my chest.
The future didn't look like a storm anymore.
It looked like her smile.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
The train slowed to a crawl, and through the foggy glass I saw it. New York City.
The skyline looked unreal, like a painting that had forgotten to dry.
Towers stretched into the clouds, silver and distant, and I thought, so this is where dreams are supposed to come true.
When I stepped out of the station, the air hit different.
It smelled like rain, smoke, and something electric.
People moved fast, too fast, all with purpose.
No one looked up. No one smiled.
Everyone had somewhere to be.
Back home in Willowbrook, even silence had a heartbeat.
Here, everything pulsed. The traffic lights, the footsteps, the noise that never ended.
I felt small, and maybe that was okay.
Maybe you have to feel small before you can grow.
I adjusted the strap of my old backpack and started walking toward the university.
The streets were too loud for my thoughts, but somehow, Lena's name still found a way through the noise.
She'd always said I'd make it here one day.
A cab splashed water on my jeans, but I laughed anyway.
It felt absurdly alive; the chaos, the cold wind, the strangers brushing past.
Maybe this city didn't care who I was,
but maybe that's what I needed. A place that didn't know my past, my guilt, my ghosts.
I kept walking until my reflection caught in a glass window. Pale, tired, eyes a little too hopeful for the world they'd entered.
That was the first time I really saw him,
the boy from Willowbrook
and the man he was trying to become.
By the time I reached New Columbia's gates, my palms were sweaty.
Students streamed through like a flood of color and laughter; camera flashes, group selfies, someone strumming a guitar near the fountain.
Everything smelled like coffee and autumn leaves.
I don't even remember when was the last time I felt so free.
Nervous, yes… but alive.
I stopped near the main courtyard, adjusting my backpack. I wanted to text her, but then I thought… no.
It'll be better in person.
A real surprise.
That's when I saw her.
Lena.
She was standing near the steps of the art building, surrounded by people, sunlight catching in her hair, which were shorter now, brushing her jawline. She was laughing at something someone said, head tilted, her hands moving the way they always did when she was trying to explain something.
For a second, everything inside me stopped.
It was her.
The same warmth, the same light, that I longed to see in person for so long.
She looked like everything I'd been fighting for.
I took a step forward. Then another.
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. I rehearsed the words in my head, 'Surprise, Lena. I kept my promise.'
Maybe she'd cry. Maybe she'd hit me and then laugh through the tears.
God, I'd missed her voice.
But then she turned.
Her eyes met mine.
And in that moment… I swear the world went still.
No smile.
No shock of joy.
Just… silence.
Like she was seeing a ghost she didn't expect to return.
Then I heard it, a voice calling her name.
"Lena!"
A boy jogged toward her, tall, confident, the kind of person who fit in perfectly here. He said something I couldn't hear, and she turned to him.
And then, he kissed her.
It wasn't hesitant. It wasn't one-sided.
And she didn't pull away.
I just stood there, my bag slipping off my shoulder, the sound of campus fading into static.
I promised I'd come.
But maybe she stopped waiting a long time ago.