I’d rather be alone in a penthouse with my peace than hand over the keys to someone who only wanted the view. Real love isn’t about who stays when the lights are on. It’s about who holds you through the flicker.
Ryan left before the first rumble of thunder. And now? I still have the view.
The job that promises to take me places and the fridge that talks. And most importantly? I have the lesson.
So here’s to champagne, closure, and never again confusing potential with promise.
