Tilly spotted Savannah at her desk already, headphones on, typing something with her usual focus. She didn’t look up when they walked past.
Tilly dropped their gear in the equipment room and stood there among the tripods and cables, breathing slowly, trying to metabolize what was happening.
Savannah was shutting down. Completely.
This was the moment.
Tilly had been here before — standing on the edge of someone pulling away, trying to decide whether to fight for it or let it go. In the past, they’d chosen space. Respect. Distance. And it had quietly ended things without either of them having to admit defeat.
They could do that again.
Or.
Their phone was already in their hand before they finished the thought.
They opened their texts. Found Savannah’s name. Started typing before fear could stop them.
Hey. I know this morning was complicated. I’m not asking you to have all the answers right now. I just need you to know I’m not going anywhere. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.
They read it twice. Their thumb hovered over delete.
Then they hit send.
The message went through immediately. Delivered. Read.
Tilly stared at the screen.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Their heart hammered.
The dots vanished.
Nothing came through.
Tilly waited. Thirty seconds. A minute. Two.
Still nothing.
They locked their phone and shoved it in their pocket, chest tight, hands shaking slightly. They’d done it. They’d been vulnerable. They’d tried.
And Savannah couldn’t even answer.
The equipment room felt too small suddenly. Too quiet. The walls were too close.
Tilly pulled their phone back out and opened a different text thread.
Emergency friend meeting? I need to not be at work right now.
Jamie’s response came within seconds.
Oh shit. Yes. Come over. Erin’s making tea, but I’ll override with pizza.
Tilly let out a breath that shook on the way out.
