Note: The title of this chapter is from the song "Violet" by Peach Tree Rascals.

"Woah!" June cried out. "This is juicy!" She was lounging on Bobby's couch scrolling through Twitter on her phone. Bobby was in the kitchen making omelettes. Their typical morning routine.

"What's that?" Bobby called from the kitchen.

"Just saw on Twitter that Noah and MC were spotted ring shopping!"

Ring shopping? It was a punch to Bobby's gut. Surely not. He stumbled dazedly over to the sink. His stomach threatened to empty itself.

"Well, they were spotted in a jewelry store together, presumed to be ring shopping."

Bobby attempted nonchalance, but his voice came out shrill, "So they're engaged now?" His chest felt tight.

"Unsure. She hasn't been spotted with a ring yet, so it's just speculation at this point."

Bobby felt the knot in his stomach loosen slightly. She wasn't going to marry Noah. Noah was a rebound. Bobby wiped away the sweat pricking at his temples. Sure, the guy was smitten, but it was never going to be enough for MC. She needed a great romance, something big and exciting. Besides, she'd had a chance at Noah and she had chosen him. They had won Love Island. Noah couldn't live up to what they had.

Used to have.

Bobby and MC were just doing the whole star-crossed lovers thing right now...right?

He returned to the stove to finish the eggs. His hands shook as he plated the food. In the back of his mind, he'd always pictured MC biding her time with Noah. Exploring a little detour she'd been curious about maybe, but wishing it was him instead. But a ring. A ring meant she chose Noah. She'd be walking too far in his direction to make it back to Bobby.

He tried not to think too far into the future these days. 'Live in the moment' was his motto. He'd doubled down on that since MC left. But she never lived that way, did she? She had always fearlessly faced the future. She'd had plans for them.

He took a breath and pushed those thoughts away. June didn't need that. He never burdened her with what their relationship had cost him.

"Isn't that interesting?" June said brightly, as he handed her a plate.

"Yeah, that's really something," he muttered dully. He felt a tinge of annoyance at June for mentioning it so casually, as though the news didn't have the potential to bother him. Was she testing his reaction? Maybe she really didn't realize. He had kept his cards close to his chest when it came to MC.

"Maybe we're next, eh?" He joked, overcompensating.

"Huh?" June replied, confused.

"Oh, I was just being silly, like, oh what if we got engaged next."

June raised an eyebrow as she looked away, pulling her mouth into a frown, "I don't know about all that."

Bobby, of course, knew that there was no chance they'd be engaged any time soon, but he still felt a little hurt at June's reaction. Not a glimmer of interest in that idea, huh? Very romantic. He rolled his eyes. "All jokes, love."

"I wouldn't turn down an extravagant honeymoon though. When are we going to take another trip? I want to go somewhere tropical! What do you think of Belize?"

"Sounds expensive," he said a little irritably.

She crossed her arms. "You have money, Bobby."

She meant the Love Island winnings. Bobby and MC had opened a joint banking account when they won, and only used the money for things they bought together. It was the money they had won by falling in love, and they agreed to only use it for shared purchases. The money had been sitting unused since they broke up; neither of them had touched it. Spending it without her, not to mention on another woman, would be an admission that things were really over between them.

"That's not an option," he snapped coldly.

They ate their breakfast in silence.

Later that week, a drowsy groan startled Bobby awake. June was laying next to him, a hand covering her eyes protectively against the sunshine pouring into the room. "Ugh that sun!" she grumbled.

"You're mad at the sun?" he yawned.

"It wakes me up at the crack of dawn every time I sleep here."

This had actually been by Bobby's design. He and MC were early risers, and they enjoyed waking up with the sun. "The loveliest alarm clock", MC had once described it. Her crinkly eyed smile and wild bed head floated through his barely conscious mind.

He sighed and looked over at June. She was scanning the room. "Do you think we could move the bed? Maybe over there? It's a lot less bright." She pointed to his bookshelf.

A small wave of anxiety churned in his stomach. "But that's where I keep my books."

She gave him a skeptical look. "Well, we can move them over here."

"I don't know. I've got everything the way I like it."

"Come on!" she said playfully, rolling on top of him. "It can be fun to change things up a little bit every now and then."

Bobby couldn't pinpoint why he was so reluctant, but this idea didn't sound fun to him. It felt like June was jabbing at something tender and raw. It gave him a homesick feeling.

"Bobby," June said, a little sharply. "Did you hear me? Looked like you wandered off."

"Sorry babe," he wrapped his arms around her, finally responding to her affection. He sensed the irritation in her voice, and didn't want to start his day off in a fight. He couldn't think of a reason why he shouldn't agree with her idea, so he relented. "Sure, let's switch it up."

June set to work immediately, pushing his desk and chair over a few feet, unburdening shelves of items that had long sat undisturbed. Bobby watched, a passive participant in the upheaval of his belongings.

June looked at the books she was relocating. "You've got a lot of poetry books here."

"Oh yeah, those were MC's. She loved those awful poems." He shook his head, smiling to himself. "She would try and read them to me occasionally, but I could never get into it. Always seemed like flowery words mushed together to sound deep."

"Yeah, I agree." June said. "Want me to just toss these?"

"No!" Bobby said, a little too loudly. The suggestion sent a bolt of panic through him. He composed himself, "I mean, they're MC's, not really mine. I should probably give them back to her."

"Why? She left them here. She clearly doesn't care about them very much."

"Just because she left something behind doesn't mean she doesn't care about it." he retorted, his tone acerbic.

June's eyes widened in surprise. "Fine! Suit yourself. I'll just leave these here and you can give them back to her." She sounded hurt, but Bobby didn't care. He was nursing his own wound.

Once they had cleared a big enough space, June pulled at one side of the bed. "Can you give me a hand with this?"

As they tugged the bed frame away from the wall...the wall that MC had pressed her hands against so many times while Bobby was inside of her, he felt a wrenching of his heart. It jostled around in his chest, shaking off dust and cobwebs. The pain was immense. He pushed on anyway.

That evening, after June had gone, Bobby walked into his bedroom, which now felt alien to him. The bookshelf no longer in the spot where MC used to sit cross-legged, deciding her next read. The chair no longer facing the bathroom door the way it had when he had sat and listened to her sing in the shower. The bed no longer resting under beams of morning sunlight where MC had curled her body around his.

He looked at the pile of books June had left on the floor, and started sorting through them. The spines were all broken, the pages dog-eared. She loved things into disrepair.

Halfway through the pile he found a small, light green moleskine. He opened it and scanned the pages. He recognized MC's handwriting. Neat and tidy letters, with a rounded, crooked quality.

On the first page, a list of sentences, written in different colored pen:

Gratitude Journal

Bobby made me breakfast this morning! Croissants made from scratch! He's so incredible.

Today we were talking about what to do with the prize money and Bobby mentioned setting some aside for a wedding one day! Nothing official of course, but I'M SO EXCITED!!

Bobby knew I was overwhelmed with work, so he booked the moving truck for me today. Can't wait until we live together.

She hadn't written any dates down, but he remembered most of the moments she had described.

Bobby mentioned our future children today. EEP!

That moment remained vivid and shiny in his mind. If he had kept a gratitude journal, he would have written about her reaction. The way she hadn't missed a beat, joining in on the fantasy. The way her eyes had brightened at the idea. So different from the type of reaction he got from June this morning. They rarely discussed their future together.

He continued reading,

Chelsea came to my show tonight! Very grateful for her.

The weather was perfect today, and Bobby and I took a long walk.

We found a random igloo that someone had built in a park! Bobby and I went inside and kissed for ages. One of the loveliest moments of my life.

One entry was simply, LOTS OF SEX!!!!

That he definitely remembered. He had a great sex life with June, but things had been different with MC. The challenge of getting any alone time in the Villa had made him desperate for her in the beginning. Once they were back home, they were so grateful for the privacy that they spent hours exploring each other's bodies, testing every touch, gauging every reaction. Sometimes they would just stand naked in front of each other, gazing at one another's bodies, finally getting to look, instead of just touch. They spent long, intense hours together. But they also laughed and talked while they made love. No one else had ever known him in that way.

When things had started to fall apart, when he didn't feel that closeness anymore, they didn't connect sexually in the same way. It was as though they had forgotten how to do it, and the harder he tried to recreate it, the more self-conscious it felt. Like telling a joke and no one laughing. It was just like the centipede's dilemma Noah had talked about in the villa. Fucking Noah, Bobby thought bitterly. A mean little voice poked at the back of his brain, wondering what the sex between Noah and MC was like. Did Noah know how she shuddered if you kissed the back of her neck? How she gasped when you curled your fingers inside her? Had he noticed the freckle on the crease between her leg and his favorite, most secret part of her.

He blinked the thought away as he flipped through the pages. Her tone seemed different as he read.

Got lunch with Priya today and she made me feel so much better.

Why had she been sad? He tried to remember. He thought he remembered Priya coming to town, but couldn't recall anything specific about MC.

Struggling today, but grateful for my music.

We watched a movie tonight and Bobby didn't look as his phone once. It was like he was really, truly here.

Bobby came to my show tonight. It's been awhile since he's been to one. He brought June, but I'm still so glad he was there.

His head throbbed with shame remembering how he had brought June to her concert. Seeing it from MC's perspective revealed the cruelty in it. He hadn't wanted to go alone...why? He thought he would get bored? He felt hollow when he thought about how Noah had gone to her show alone to surprise her. He felt inadequate.

Near the end, there was one longer entry. The page looked a little warped, smudged, as though it had gotten wet. There were bits scratched out.

I made a special meal for Bobby tonight. Spent all day working on it. He left. June was upset about something, and he went to see her. He fucking left. What am I even doing? Would he even notice if I was gone? He didn't even notice I was upset when he came back. I've never felt so worthless. Let me try again, since this is about showing gratitude. So thankful for Chelsea, who came over tonight and listened to me cry, and made me laugh.

His eyes stung and the words in front of him blurred. The air in his lungs seemed to decide he wasn't worth the time and departed. At the time he thought he was being the good guy, going to a friend in need. He'd known MC wasn't pleased, but didn't realize she had been this hurt. Of course that hurt her. He cursed his stupidity. How had he not seen? His stomach cramped in anger at himself, and at June.

His hands trembled as he turned to the last page with writing,

Bobby actually kissed me today. How do I miss him so much when we live in the same home? I feel like I'm already saying goodbye.

Grateful that I still have my old place.

Seeing the evolution of their relationship like this, his neglect laid out on the page in this way, pulled some protective shield away that had been obscuring his vision. How had he lost the plot so thoroughly? It was true that in the end, they barely touched. Hardly even spoke. Even then, she had written her gratitude for that rare act of affection. His body ached from it.

He had thought he was going to marry MC. He had even started a playlist for the reception. Had ideas for the wedding cake. He was going to make it himself. Planning that far ahead was so uncharacteristic for him. MC had pulled him forward, teaching him how to how to imagine, and together they had painted a lovely landscape of what their life was going to be. And he had stopped contributing. He thought she had been the one to stop playing along, to stop laughing. He was the one who had turned away from what they had built. And for what? For June? What did he have with June? Not much.

The old haunted dreams suddenly trampled over him, forcing him to acknowledge their presence, stomping into him a deep want. How could he live the rest of his life without her? How could he leave all of those dreams unrealized? He needed to see her, touch her, smell her. She had chosen him over and over. Until he stopped choosing her.

What if he chose her again?