But that distinction didn’t matter now.
Savannah sank onto the couch and curled in on herself, arms wrapped tight around her middle. She stared at the blank TV screen, seeing nothing.
This was why she didn’t do this.
Why she didn’t let things get this close. Why she kept people at arm’s length and called it professionalism or independence or being smart. Because the second she needed someone, the ground dropped out from under her.
Tilly hadn’t yelled. Hadn’t accused her.
They had looked hurt. Quiet. Like they were deciding whether staying was worth the cost.
Savannah squeezed her eyes shut.
She had seen that look before. In herself. In people who were already halfway gone.
She picked up her phone again. Opened her messages. Scrolled to Tilly’s name and stared at it until her eyes burned.
She didn’t text.
She knew how this went.
You give space. You respect the break. You don’t beg. You don’t chase. You let the silence stretch until it becomes the truth.
That was the rule she had learned early and never questioned.
So she isolated.
She texted Harper something vague about being tired. She ignored Jamie’s check-in. She went to bed early with the lights off, stomach empty, and unmoved by the idea of fixing that.
Sleep didn’t come.
Her thoughts circled the same conclusion, over and over, until it stopped feeling like panic and started feeling like certainty.
It was over.
Not because Tilly had said so.
Because Savannah had learned not to wait around for endings to be announced. If someone needed space, you gave it. If they left, you let them go.
She turned onto her side and stared at the wall, listening to the quiet she had chosen.
This was safer.
It always was.
* * *
The next morning, Savannah woke up to the sound of her alarm and did not move.
She lay there staring at the ceiling, the light thin and gray through the blinds, her body heavy in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. Her throat felt tight. Her head ached, dull and persistent. She took a slow breath and felt it catch halfway in.
She rolled onto her side and checked her phone.
No new notifications.
That shouldn’t have mattered. It did anyway.
Savannah closed her eyes and let the alarm buzz itself out.
