"Less ego," he whispered to the empty room. "More room for people to sit together."

These were screenshots of texts Maya had drafted but never sent during their biggest fights. “I don’t need you to solve the budget, Elias. I just need you to sit on the porch with me for ten minutes without your phone.” “You won the argument about the car, but you lost the girl who wanted to take a road trip in it.”

This was a single video file. It was a candid clip Maya had taken of him while he was sleeping. He looked vulnerable, his brow finally unfurrowed. At the end of the clip, Maya’s hand reached into the frame to brush a stray hair from his forehead. She whispered to the camera, "I wish you'd let this version of you stay awake."

He kept the .zip file on his desktop, not as a souvenir of a lost girl, but as a compass for the man he was finally becoming.