“God,” I whisper to myself. “Get it together.”
Usually, this stays in the darkness.
But the sun is shining, and I still look like a monster.
The kitchen is painfully bright, every beam of sunlight like a spotlight on how pathetic I look. I grab the coffee pot, but my hands are shaking so badly that it sloshes over the counter and down my sleeve.
The smell turns my stomach, bitter and burnt.
I lean against the counter and stare at nothing. The silence buzzes in my ears, filling the space where laughter used to be.
I am aware everything is fine around me, but my brain is creating illusions.
I hear footsteps, then Yana comes into my vision.
Her music isn’t playing for once, which is strange enough to make me glance up. The moment she sees me, she freezes.
“Hi–” I try, but my voice gives out.
She doesn’t even answer. Just crosses the room in three steps and wraps her arms around me so tightly I nearly collapse.
Every wall I tried to build crumbles to the ground, and whatever I was holding disappears.
The sob rips out before I can stop it, and I lean back on the counter.
“Oh my God,” I choke, letting out a humorless laugh. “Not again, I feel so stupid–”
“Tilly,” she whispers, pressing her chin on my shoulder. “Don’t talk like that.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes glassy, then nods toward her room. “Come on.”
I follow her, dragging my feet like every step costs something.
Zara is sitting cross-legged on the bed, sketchbook open beside her.
She looks up, and the moment her eyes meet mine, she drops everything and stands.
“Tills,” she breathes. “Oh, baby.”
She doesn’t ask what happened.
She doesn’t have to.
“I never told him,” I manage to say between sobs. “He was on the phone, and I heard him say yes. And then he saw me, and said–” I hiccup hard, wiping at my face. “He said he would’ve stayed if I gave him a reason. If I just said something.”
My voice cracks again. “But I didn’t. So he’s leaving.”
The word leaving comes out like a curse, and my body folds in on itself. Zara catches me, pulls me to the bed, and wraps her arms around me.
Yana sits on my other side, her hand rubbing slow circles on my back.
I cry until I can’t breathe.
Until the edges of my vision blur and my throat burns raw.
Until I feel small. Smaller than I’ve ever been.
“I’m too late,” I whisper when the crying finally breaks into shaky breaths. “I’m too late, and I ruined everything.”
