She Stole My Comic Ending And My Crush Chapter 15

She Stole My Comic Ending And My Crush Chapter 15

I carried the black baseball cap to him.

Adrian looked confused. “What is this?”

I was surprised he did not recognize it.

“You left it behind one day.

He examined the faded fabric and shook his head. “I almost never wear caps.

“This isn’t mine.”

I watched him for a long moment.

“Then throw it away.”

He seemed ready to ask another question, but I spoke first.

“That was all. I had somewhere to be.”

“But…”

“Mira,” someone called, cutting him off.

I turned in surprise. Miles waited several yards away.

“Perfect timing,” he said. “I need your advice on something.

“I can walk you back.”

I nodded and left without looking at Adrian again.

Once Miles and I were far enough away, I thanked him. I knew he had stepped in to rescue me from the

conversation.

His voice was quiet. “You don’t need to thank me for everything.”

I nodded and fell silent.

Miles, however, asked, “Does the cap mean something?”

I looked at him.

He had always been careful with boundaries and rarely questioned me about the past. Now his gaze was bright, patient, and gentle.

We met during the first student activities fair of freshman year. Miles was on the planning committee and

had designed one of the competition games.

I won.

“Could you tell me your secret?” he asked afterward.

“I genuinely want to know.”

“I calculated the expected value of each game,” I explained. “Then I chose the one with the highest

probability of winning.

“It isn’t particularly mysterious.”

That conversation became a friendship.

Some introductory economics and finance courses overlapped with the math curriculum.

When registration opened for spring semester, Miles asked which sections I planned to take.

At the time, I did not read anything into his interest.

At the end of freshman year, he told me how he felt.

I had noticed his kindness, but no one had ever stood in front of me and plainly said that he liked me. Miles

was the first.

Even decades later, I knew I would remember the earnest young man who told me on a bright afternoon that

I was extraordinary and that he wanted a chance to love me.

But I already loved someone else.

I could not consider anyone new.

Miles did not interrogate me or bargain. He accepted friendship, and the distance between us gradually widened as our work became more demanding.

The next thing I heard was that he had spent the spring semester studying in London.

Strangely, the months without contact did not make us awkward. The moment he spoke to me again, we returned to the easy rhythm we once shared.

Now he watched me. “If you want to tell me, I’ll listen.”

It was not a secret I needed to keep anymore.

“When Adrian and I were nine, he helped me once,” I said. “He left the cap with me that day.’

Miles exhaled softly. “You kept it for eleven years.”

Because once, I had believed it was the most precious thing I owned.