Page 70 of The Valentine Agenda

Because how did you keep going when your whole purpose for being better was leaving?

How did you exist in spaces that would never again feel like home?

How did you stop loving someone who had taught you what love really meant?

You didn't, he realized. You just learned to live with the ache.

If you could call this living at all.

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James found Mrs. Chen in the community room, calmly pouring tea into two cups like she'd been expecting him. Knowing her, she probably had been.

"Sit," she commanded without looking up. "You look terrible."

"Thanks." He collapsed into a chair, not even caring about what it would do to his suit. "I suppose you've heard?"

"That Hannah's moving?" Mrs. Chen's eyes sparkled with something that looked suspiciously like amusement. "Or that you've spent the last two days looking like someone stole your entire collection of Italian leather shoes?"

"She's leaving," James said, as if saying it again might make it hurt less. It didn't. "I ruined everything, and now she's leaving."

Mrs. Chen hummed thoughtfully, measuring tea leaves with practiced movements. "Did she tell you this?"

"I overheard—" He broke off, suddenly aware of how pathetic he sounded. "I heard her telling Sophie."

"Ah." Mrs. Chen set a cup of tea in front of him with suspicious precision. "And of course, you immediately asked her about it. Had a proper conversation like an adult?"

James stared into his cup. "I couldn't."

"Couldn't?" Her voice sharpened. "Or wouldn't?"

"She wouldn't want me to," he said quietly. "After everything I've done—everything I failed to be for her—"

"James Park." Mrs. Chen's tone made him feel about seven years old. "For someone so successful, you can be remarkably stupid."

He looked up, startled. Mrs. Chen was watching him with that maddening mixture of exasperation and affection she seemed to reserve just for him.

"You could just ask her, dear," she said gently.

"Ask her what?" His laugh was bitter. "Ask her to stay? Ask her to give me another chance I don't deserve? Ask her—" He broke off, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "She's made her choice."

"Has she?" Mrs. Chen's eyes were knowing. "Or have you made it for her? Again?"

The words hit him like a slap. He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again.

"You know what your problem is?" Mrs. Chen continued, settling into her chair with obvious satisfaction at his discomfort. "You spent so long trying to prove yourself worthy of her, you never actually let her choose for herself."

"I—" James stared at his untouched tea. "She's better off without me."

"Ah, my boy." Mrs. Chen shook her head slowly. "Still so blind."

"I'm not blind," he protested. "I see exactly what I am. What I did. How I failed—"

"No." Mrs. Chen cut him off. "You see what you fear. What you expect. Just like before, when you only saw what you thought mattered." She leaned forward, fixing him with that penetrating stare that seemed to see right through him. "But you never see what's right in front of you."

James swallowed hard. "And what's that?"

"A woman who taught you how to love by example. Who showed you what mattered without ever asking for recognition." Mrs. Chen's voice softened. "Who might just be as lost without you as you are without her."

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