Seven Years of Us, One Year of Me Chapter 06

Seven Years of Us, One Year of Me Chapter 06

On graduation day, I didn’t break up with him privately.

I waited until we were on the field.

Graduation gowns, caps, parents’ flowers, couples’ photos.

People were everywhere.

Adrian walked over with a bouquet in his hand.

“Sloane Bennett, happy graduation.”

I took the flowers.

Sunflowers.

Madeline Hayes’s favorite.

I liked lisianthus.

After seven years, he still didn’t know.

People nearby started cheering.

“Kiss! Kiss!”

Madeline stood not far away, also holding a bouquet of sunflowers.

She looked at me with very calm eyes.

As if she was watching an ending.

I smiled a little.

“Adrian West. Let’s break up.”

The area around us fell silent for a moment.

He froze.

“What?”

“Break up.”

I handed the flowers back to him.

“Sunflowers are Madeline Hayes’s favorite flowers. You bought two identical bouquets, one for her

and one for me. You were too lazy to even buy different ones.”

His face changed.

People around us were filming.

I didn’t care.

“That New Year’s Eve post you made, the one that said Happy seventh year,

“The name you called when you were drunk wasn’t mine.

“You changed your grad school choice to follow her to another city.

“In your phone, my contact is Sloane Bennett. Hers is Madeline.”

I said it all in one breath.

The field went so quiet only the wind could be heard.

wasn’t for me.

“Six years. Freshman year of high school, when you picked up that basketball and looked at me, I remembered that smile for six years.

“Later, you gave that smile to someone else.

“It’s fine. I don’t want it anymore.”

He opened his mouth.

“Sloane, listen to me explain…”

“No.”

I cut him off.

“You’ve explained before. Every time you came back late, every time you forgot a promise, every time you called her name, you had an explanation.

“I listened for three years. I’ve heard enough.”

I took off the necklace he had given me senior year of high school.

It was silver, very thin, with a tiny star pendant.

I had worn it for four years, long enough for it to leave a faint mark on the back of my neck.

I placed the necklace on top of the bouquet of sunflowers.

“Adrian West. Three years of high school. Four years of college. Seven years.

“I don’t owe you anything anymore.”

I turned and left.

The crowd on the field parted automatically to make a path for me.

Madeline stood where she was, the sunflowers in her hand drooping.

Her expression finally changed.

It wasn’t the smugness of someone who had won.

It was confusion.

Maybe she had thought I would keep enduring it forever too.

I walked out of the field.

The sunlight was beautiful.

The graduation song drifted from behind me.

Suddenly, I thought of that winter in senior year of high school, when he rode his bike to take me

home.

The wind was fierce in the back seat, and he told me to put my hands in his jacket pockets.

Back then, his pockets had been warm.

They weren’t warm anymore.

When I walked out of the school gate, I stopped for a moment.

I turned back and looked once.

The gate of Princeton University looked the same as it had four years ago.

Back then, he and I had dragged our suitcases in together. He helped me carry my luggage, make my bed, and wipe down my closet.

At the time, I had thought four years was long.

Now, I felt seven years was short.

So short that all it left behind was a letter, a flash drive, and a necklace I had taken off.