The last message between Yohann and me was still from the day we went bungee jumping. I couldn't shake the memory of how easily he had pushed me off that ledge despite my fear. The thought of it felt like needles piercing my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Without thinking, I opened his social media timeline, and there it was—his latest post. His childhood friend, Zandria, smiled brightly in the photo while coyly covering half her face with a bouquet of bright red roses. She looked so happy.
Then it hit me. Yohann had promised that if I could conquer my fear and make that jump, he would be waiting at the bottom with flowers to celebrate my bravery. He had said, "Brave girls are the most commendable, Ysha. I believe in you."
But I was terrified of heights. I didn't want to jump at all. Even thinking about that moment now filled me with anxiety.
Back then, Yohann had stared at me for an eternity. Eventually, he softened his tone, almost as if he understood. "It's okay," he said. "I'll jump with Zandria; you can watch from the side. How does that sound?"