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classroom—refused to give up hope though. It was willing to take all of the sensible thoughts hostage and secure them tightly, to do anything to keep hope alive. That part played dirty, whispering words to encourage Drew to continue to pursue Becca. He would have said it was an almost supernaturally driven desire, if he had believed in such rubbish.
    Internally, he slapped himself. He wasn’t completely delusional; he knew that wasn’t a possibility. Even if it was, he wasn’t sure he wanted it. She’d hurt him. There was nothing to say she wouldn’t do it again.
    He watched as she worked, recognizing all the little ticks he’d always thought were so cute. She twirled the ends of the curls in her ponytail, stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth when she concentrated, and danced her fingers across the desk as she read her screen. The small movements reminded him of the quiet moments she’d shared with him while they were dating, when he’d stop by her desk randomly during the day and they’d flirt and share secretive, innocent touches. When she’d pass him little love notes and he’d make carnal promises about the way their night would progress.
    Did he really deserve to be her second choice?
    The answer was overwhelmingly clear to him, and yet there he was staring at Becca as if he had no choice in the matter.
    While Becca was Drew’s entire focus, her concentration was elsewhere. If she noticed the weight of his gaze, she didn’t let it show. She didn't turn in his direction and offer a shy smile like she used to. Neither did she hide behind the ledge of the desk to block herself from his view. Instead, she just sat staring straight ahead at her monitor as her fingers moved over the keyboard. He might as well have been on the other side of the hospital. It was further evidence of how little he had actually meant to her.
    Was I ever more than just a distraction ?
    He thought back over their disagreements and the issues that seemed to have cropped up time and again over the last few weeks. He wondered whether maybe he’d pushed when he should have backed off. Surely Becca was able to understand that all he’d wanted was for her to find her dreams and follow them, and that he was poised ready and willing to do whatever was necessary to support her.
    It was just unthinkable for him to allow her to accept mediocrity when she could have had brilliant. He wanted a perfect life for her. It was what he expected of himself, and it was natural he’d want the same for her—more so with his mother's words echoing in his head.
    “Find yourself a girl as smart as you are and treat her as your equal. A trophy will tarnish as the years go on, and she'll just end up resenting you for restricting her to such a life.”
    He’d been certain Becca was that girl, and he hadn’t wanted to allow her to relegate herself into the trophy-wife role the way she’d seemed ready to during their time together.
    True, his mother’s words had been about his father’s treatment of her before the divorce, but they had affected Drew nonetheless. He’d been told the story of her lost career and witnessed her misery first-hand.
    Long ago, fresh out of college, his mother had been given the chance to follow her dreams into fashion and help cofound a magazine, but she’d passed on the opportunity in order to be with his father. She’d given up every other career goal when Drew was born.
    By the time Drew was fourteen, his mother’s friend was a multi-millionaire heading up a magazine so popular that most new designers would have given their eye teeth to score a feature. After receiving a fresh offer to work at the magazine, in a lowly role barely above that of a paid intern, his mother decided that giving up her dreams once was more than enough. She’d packed everything of hers and Drew’s and they’d shipped off to Orange County without his father.
    After learning of her shattered dreams and feeling the bitter sting of