Ivory fell asleep holding my hand.
At some point, I gently turned over and slid my hand out of hers, careful not to wake her.
I don’t know how much time passed before her phone buzzed sharply in the dark.
The ringtone barely lasted a second before she silenced it.
“Usher…” she whispered.
I kept my eyes closed and didn’t answer, so she gave me a gentle nudge.
“Something urgent came up at work. I need to head over for a bit. If everything goes well, I’ll be back by morning.”
I opened my eyes halfway, feigning grogginess. “I’ll drive you.”
She smiled and brushed me off. “No need. I’m picking up Shawna from Product Dev on the way. I’ll text you when I get there.”
She kissed me quickly, then slipped out of the room.
A minute later, I heard the front door close.
I got dressed in the dark, grabbed a hoodie, and called a cab.
When the driver asked where to, I gave him the address I’d memorized from her Amazon account.
“North Gate of Longview Park Apartments, Building 6.”
In the backseat, I opened TikTok and searched the guy’s handle.
[@SorryForCrashingIntoYourHeart]
Ivory had changed hers not long ago to [@AllIWantIsU].
She told me the “U” was for me—Usher.
Another lie.
This guy posted constantly—nights out, gaming clips, new sneakers, gym selfies. Multiple times a day.
But he never showed his face. Every selfie had his phone covering it.
I tapped into one of his clips—a match summary from League.
His username popped up. [BurnBoy]
Suddenly it clicked.
A while back, I asked Ivory if I could join her game one night. She reluctantly agreed.
BurnOne was on our team. I played support; he was ADC.
Right at the start, he typed in all caps:
[SUPPORT STAY OUT OF MY LANE. YOU’RE ANNOYING!]
Minutes later, he was almost dead. I rushed in, stunned the enemy, and healed him.
He didn’t say thanks.
Instead, he ran into the opponent’s tower and let himself die. On purpose.
[You got a tumor on your brain or something?] he typed. [I told you not to fucking heal me! The fuck’s so hard to understand ‘bout that?!]
I was completely lost. I asked Ivory if the guy was seriously unhinged.
She laughed it off. “That’s just how he is. He’s got a bad temper and talks like that to everyone, not just you. Don’t take it personally. If it bothers you, I won’t pull you guys into the same match again.”
So I was just a prop in their little game.
The driver sped through the streets. By the time it pulled up, Ivory’s car hadn’t shown up yet.
The sky was thick with storm clouds. Thunder rumbled, and soon, huge raindrops came crashing down.
I ducked into the vestibule of a 24-hour ATM to wait.
Just then, my phone lit up. It was her.
“Usher, are you awake?”
“How’d you know?”
“The thunder was so loud. I figured you’d be up.” Her voice was soft and comforting. “I checked the weather before I left and unplugged everything except the fridge. Don’t worry. Just try to get some sleep.”
When I was a kid, lightning struck our house and started a fire. My mom and my stepdad managed to save my little brother—and his favorite toy. But they forgot about me. Since then, thunderstorms have messed with my head.
Over the years, Ivory climbed her way from an entry-level employee to tech director. But every time it stormed, she tried to be there for me.
She even once ditched a business dinner halfway just to come home and stay with me.
‘Maybe I’m overthinking things,’ I began to think. ‘Maybe she really is going to the office.’
But then I saw a familiar SUV pulled up, its hazard lights blinking.
A guy stepped out of the building’s entrance, one hand holding an umbrella, the other carrying something in a paper bag, and walked out through the gate of the complex.
He stopped for a second by Ivory’s car, near the front passenger window. But instead of opening that door, he got into the back seat.
A few moments later, Ivory got out of the driver’s seat, opened the rear door, and got in too.
The storm raged. The windows fogged. Neither of them got back out.
The SUV stayed there, unmoving, shrouded in rain.
And I stood in the glow of the ATM screen, just… watching.
Her car’s tail lights finally disappeared into the night, and the guy never once got out.
