I found My Home In You

" The rain falls because the sky can no longer handle it's heaviness, just like the tears fall because the heart can no longer handle it's pain."

                          Epilogue 

December rolled in, bringing with it the of cold that wasn't just in the air but in the spaces between people. The city lights twinkled like scattered memories, but none of them felt warm anymore. Not this year. Not since everything fell apart.

I pulled my coat tighter around me as I passed the cafe - the same one where we used to sit for hours, laughing over coffee that always went cold. The chairs by the window were empty now , or maybe I just refused to see who say there 

Funny how winter used to mean something different. Back then, December meant hot chocolate, long walks and endless conversations. Now , it was just another month to get through. 

And then, as if the universe wasn't done playing cruel jokes , I saw him. 

"My heart skipped a beat as the longing and the wait brought back the memories he had burried. But I I'd sell my soul a million times just to relieve this one moment again."

Standing across the street, hands buried in his pockets, staring right at me. 

" Those eyes- those familiar, haunting eyes. I saw my world in them, yet how could I tell him, when he never wanted to hear it ? My heart wept in silence, my fingers ached to touch him, and I wished I could sail across a thousand oceans just to find my way back to his heart . 

Do I look away ? Pretend I don't see him or do i finally face the one question - that's been haunting me for months - " What did I do so wrong ? " 

I could feel my heart pounding—an ache so deep, a longing so relentless, it left me breathless. I won’t lie—I’m desperate. Desperate for him, for his love, for the warmth of his touch. Because in him, I found my home. But he never understood me. And I wish—God, I wish—there was an explanation. Something to make sense of the silence, of the words left unsaid, of the emptiness he left behind.

But we should there,separated by more than just the street between us . Time, distance words left unsaid - all of it built a wall neither of us dared to break. 

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away. Maybe if I pretend not to care, It wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe if I walked past him like he was a stranger, the ache in my chest would ease . 

But as I turned, I heard it - my name . Soft. Uncertain. 

"Isabella."

It was the first time he had said my name in months, and it shattered me more than his silence ever did . 

I stopped, my breath hitching. Every cell in my body screamed at me to keep walking, do not fall back into the past. But my heart- my traitorous foolish heart- had already turned around. 

He was still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking at me as if I was both a memory and a mistake. 

' Hey, he said, almost like an after thought. And just like that, the years unravelled between us. 

Do I smile? Do I let the past slip away? Or do I finally ask him the question that has haunted me for too long - "Can we be friends again? "

But I think that would only sound foolish. 

I didn't want to see like a fool to him.

Isn't it ironic ? 

"We ignore the ones who adore us, 

adore  the ones who ignore us,

Love the one who hurt us, and hurt the one's that love us ." 

Silence stretched between us heavy and uncertain. The city moved around us- cars rushing past, people lost in their own stories- but in that moment, it felt like we were the only two left in the world. 

I opened my mouth to say something-anything- but words failed me. What was I supposed to say after all this time ? 

Hey, I missed  you? Hey , I hate you for leaving? Hey, I still don't know how to breathe without you? 

Instead, I settled for the safest option 

"Hey" 

He exhaled , almost like he had been holding his breath too. 

"It's been a while ."

I nodded . " Yeah."

A part of me wanted to laugh. This was ridiculous. We have spent  years being inseparable-Knowing each others fears, dreams and every little thing in between. And now we should here like acquaintances making small talk. 

I tucked a loose strand of her behind my ear, desperate to fill the silence. 

"How have you been? "

He hesitated for just a second.

 " Good . You?"

"Great I replied." It was a lie. But so was his. 

The cold wind picked up, cutting through my coat, but I barely felt it. All I felt was the distance between us, stretching wider with every passing second. And then he said it. The words I wasn't sure I wanted to hear.

"I thought about reaching out."

I swallowed. "But you did not."

He looked away, the weight of unspoken things settling between us. "I did not know if you'd want me to."

I wanted to scream. Did I want you to? 

I had spent months waiting for a text that never came,  a call that never lit up my phone. I had spent nights wondering if he missed me, If he even cared. And now he stood here as if we were still standing on the edge of something unfinished. 

"Did you ?"I asked, my voice quieter than I intended ."Did you want to?"

His gaze  met mine,  and for the first time in a long time, I saw it- The same hesitation, the same longing , the same question neither of us had been brave  enough to ask.  But before he could answer,  his phone rang snapping the moment in half. 

He glanced at the screen Is jaw tightening 

"I should take this." I nodded, forcing a smile of course, he should. That was the difference between us. I was stuck in the past, trapped in a place where everything we once were felt long gone. Every part of me had withered away, yet somehow , our memories kept  me breathing- If only just. But while I clung to the remnants of us, he had moved forward, leaving me behind to realize a truth more painful than his absence. I was never enough. Not for him. Not for myself. 

Maybe I never had been. Maybe there was nothing in me worth holding on to. After all, what was I a girl , from a middle class family, weighed down by struggles that never seem to end? I had no luxury, no privilege no escape- only dreams that burnt in the darkness, dreams that once felt lighter when he was beside me. But he left me. He left me at the very place where my dreams began, like a chapter he no longer wanted to read. And now ,  I am nothing more than a  forgotten page, left to gather dust in a story only I still believe in. 

He hesitated again, like he wanted to say something more, but then he just gave me a small nodd  before turning away,  phone pressed to his ear. 

And just like that , he was gone  again. I let out a breath. I did not realize I was holding. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Maybe some people weren't meant to find their way back to each other.

I realized- " We didn't drift apart; we unraveled- thread by thread - until the bond we once called friendship became a silence between strangers. 

But deep down, I knew - I wasn't ready to let go. Not yet because" between us lies a thousand miles, but I carry him in every breath I take." 

I closed my eyes, letting the cold air bite at my skin, as if the chill could numb the ache  inside me . But nothing ever did. Because no matter how much I tried to bury the past, It had a way  of resurfacing- like a song that won't stop playing, like a wound that never really heals. 

                        Chapter 1

                The First Glimpse 

" love is not always  about being with each other. 

Sometimes it's about being there for each other." 

I remember the date vividly—April 7th, 2015. A new session, a new academic year, and stepping into Class 8 felt like a badge of superiority, a quiet sense of pride. But beneath that illusion of growth and confidence, I was still just a 15-year-old, tangled in the chaos of teenage life. Problems, drama, expectations—each day felt heavier than the last. Studies loomed over me like a storm cloud, peer pressure tightened its grip, and yet, there was no one to truly understand.

No one to sit beside me and say, ‘I get it.’ How do you explain the weight of mixed emotions, the constant battle between wanting to be strong and just wanting a moment to breathe?

It’s almost hilarious—whenever you try to speak up for yourself, all you hear is, ‘You’re just a kid, focus on your studies,’ and a bunch of blah blah blah. But aren’t we kids human too? Don’t we have hearts? Don’t we feel? Or are we just expected to suppress everything, to mold ourselves into whatever our parents or the adults around us think is best? They don’t even realize—they’re not guiding us, they’re suffocating us, slowly, softly, without ever hearing us scream.

Lost in my thoughts, I gazed out of the window, unaware of when Mr. Daniel, our Physics teacher, entered the classroom. My eyes were fixed on a mother bird, tirelessly building a nest for her baby. It was overwhelming—the sacrifices, the pain, the silent struggles parents endure just to keep their children safe.

‘Isabella! Isabella!’

Mr. Daniel’s voice cut through my thoughts like a thunderclap. Holy heaven—how had I not noticed he was already in the room? My heart jumped, but I masked it with indifference. I hated Physics, and his lectures were nothing short of torture.

If you don’t pay attention, I’ll have to call your parents,’ he warned.

‘Sorry, sir,’ I mumbled, without my usual defiance. A murmur swept through the class—everyone turned to stare at me, puzzled by my uncharacteristic compliance. But I wasn’t calm. I wasn’t obedient. I was just... lost. And bored."

"I stared at my Physics book, fighting the urge to toss it out the window. What good would this ever do me after graduation? What possible use could Physics have in my future? Mumbling under my breath, I shook my head in frustration.

Instead of paying attention, I reached into my bag, pulling out my colorful pens. If I had to sit through this torture, I might as well make it bearable. I flipped to the back of my notebook and started sketching, letting my mind drift far away from the suffocating classroom walls.

But Mr. Daniel’s sharp voice shattered my moment of escape.

Isabella! Stand up!’ he bellowed.

I looked up, meeting his furious gaze.

‘Don’t you have any shame?’ he barked.

Something inside me snapped. I had held back for too long. 

‘I’m not interested in studying. I don’t like Physics. I don’t like this class,’ I said, my voice calm but firm.

A stunned silence fell over the room. Mr. Daniel stood there, his expression frozen in shock. Then his face darkened.

‘How dare you?’ he seethed. ‘I want to meet your parents.’ 

Holy heaven—no. This couldn’t happen. My parents could never find out. My heart pounded as panic surged through me.

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I blurted out, masking my desperation with a guilty expression. ‘I didn’t mean it.’

But he wasn’t having it. He turned away, dismissing my apology with a wave of his hand.

Stand outside the class,’ he ordered coldly.

Defeated, I grabbed my books and dragged myself to the door. As I stepped out, I felt the stares of my classmates burning into my back. But I didn’t care. I just wanted to disappear.

The bell rang—school was finally over. As I gathered my things, Susan, better known as Suzie, appeared in front of me, her usual cheerful self.

"Hey! Wanna hit the cafeteria for some chocolate shakes?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

I shook my head. "Not today, Suzie." I wasn’t in the mood to go anywhere. My mind felt heavy, cluttered with thoughts I couldn’t quite shake off.

As we stepped out of the school gate, I pulled my phone from my bag and quickly typed a message to my elder brother, Adam. I missed him so much, and more than anything, I needed him right now. He was the only one who could possibly save me from Mr. Daniel’s wrath. And I needed to know—when was he coming back to Kolkata from Kalimpong?

Hi, Adu... where are you? I texted.

No response. No reply. ( Message sent at 2:05 PM.) 

I sighed and typed again. Hi! Are you there?

Just as I went to put my phone back into my bag, the screen lit up. A message popped up.

Hi, my little demon. How come you remember me only now?

A small smile tugged at my lips. Same old Adam.

Where are you? I typed back.

Why do you ask? Don’t you know I’m stuck in the hostel? he replied sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes. Typical.

Of course, I know that… but when are you coming down? I typed, hoping for a reassuring answer.

Why? he replied, his curiosity piqued. Did you do something wrong in school?

I sighed before responding. Yes… I added every sad emoji I could find, hoping it would soften him up.

But there was no reply. The three little dots appeared for a second, then disappeared. I knew that silence too well—he was probably rolling his eyes, already annoyed with my endless problems and complaints.

And maybe that was the harsh truth of being a teenager. We’re always looking for someone to lean on, someone to understand us. But the world expects us to figure things out on our own. Nothing we do, nothing we feel, is ever truly acceptable.

Just then, Sherwin and his friends popped up in front of me, grinning as they approached.

"Hey, we’re planning something for Saturday. You in?" he asked eagerly.

I glanced at Suzie before shaking my head. "I’m out. You guys go ahead," I said, already feeling drained from the day.

Suzie shot me a questioning look, but I just turned and walked away, leaving them to their discussion. I had no energy for weekend plans—or for anything, really. 

When I got home, I headed straight to my room, tossing my bag aside and collapsing onto my bed. I didn't feel like doing anything. My mind was heavy, my thoughts a mess.

Somewhere in the background, I could hear my mother saying something, but I ignored it, pretending to be asleep. It was easier that way.

Then, her voice cut through my act. "Get up and go bring milk from the store. Your brother is catching the bus from Kalimpong tonight—he’ll be here tomorrow morning."

I shot up from the bed. "What?! Mom, are you serious? Adu is really coming?"

She nodded. "Yes, he said he’s missing home and wants to stay for a few months since their university break has started."

I knew the truth—Adu was coming for me. But I couldn’t tell my parents that. Not yet.

I pulled out my phone from my bag and quickly typed a message to Adu.

Why are you ignoring me? You never even told me you were leaving tonight…

Message delivered. Blue ticks. No reply.

I stared at my screen, waiting. A whole hour passed before my phone finally buzzed. I checked the message—Adu had sent me a little demon emoji.

This guy is nuts.

Shaking my head, I tossed my phone aside, freshened up, and rushed to the kitchen. The moment I stepped in, the rich aroma of spices hit me—Mom had made my favorite dish: yellow rice and ball curry, a classic Anglo-Indian meal.

I couldn’t resist. I grabbed a plate and dug in like I hadn’t eaten in days.

"Mmm… Mom, this is amazing!" I said, licking my fingers.

Before I could take another bite, Dad’s voice interrupted. "Why aren’t you eating with a spoon and fork?

Not again.

"Dad, come on… I just wanted to eat with my fingers! It tastes better this way!"

"This is unhygienic," he scolded. "Go wash your hands and then sit down to study."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. Studies at school, studies at home—this whole thing is just a never-ending baggage of pressure.

Closing my room door, I threw myself onto the bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across my ceiling.

The stars—so beautiful, yet so far away. Why is it that everything beautiful in this world always feels out of reach?

With a sigh, I picked up my phone and started mindlessly scrolling through Facebook. That’s when I saw it—a group picture Adu had posted.

#LastDayWithFriendsBeforeSemesterBreak

My eyes skimmed past the familiar faces until they landed on him.

Tall. White skin. Shiny eyes. That face—that cute face. The way he carried himself, the reservedness in his posture, the subtle smirk on his lips—it was enough to read him from just a picture. If he looked this good in a photo, how would he look in real life?

I couldn’t pull my eyes away. His jet-black hair, the way his black shirt fit him just right… It was ridiculous, insane even, how my heart had the audacity to race over a picture.

"This is crazy, Izzy," I muttered to myself, shaking my head.

He’s Adu’s friend. Your brother’s friend. And you? You’re just a kid in front of him.

That’s it. I’m a kid.

If he ever found out, he’d probably laugh, pat my head, and—God forbid—call me his little sister.

A rush of panic hit me. There were no tags on the post. No name. No way to find him.

What could his name be?

I couldn’t even ask Adu—he’d just roll his eyes and tell me I needed therapy. That’s what adults do, isn’t it? Assume we teenagers need counseling just because we feel things too deeply. But no—therapy isn’t what we need.

All we need is acceptance. Humanity. Love.

A message popped up on my screen.

Little demon, we’ve left Kalimpong. Let Mom and Dad know.

"Okay," I replied, my fingers hesitating over the keyboard.

Should I compliment his picture? Maybe then I’d get to know his name.

Agh, no! That would be so pathetic.

Frustrated, I tossed my phone aside and pulled out my sketchbook. If I couldn’t ask about him, I could at least draw him.

My pencil traced the outline of his face—the soft smirk, the deep eyes, the hair that probably looked even better in real life. It was ridiculous how someone so distant could feel so… close.

A sudden knock at the door jolted me.

Panic. I shoved the sketchbook under my pile of textbooks and grabbed my math notebook, flipping to a random page. When I opened the door, Dad was standing there.

"Why is your door locked?" His voice was sharp.

"I was just studying," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Studying? Behind closed doors? What’s there to hide?"

I sighed. Here we go again.

"Dad, I’m big now. I need a little privacy—"

Before I could finish, Mom’s voice cut through the room.

"No, you’re still a kid. You don’t need privacy. Keep your door open and study. Your exams are near—unless you want to be a failure all your life?"

Dad chimed in, as expected.

"Your brother has always made us proud. Look at you—so careless, so irresponsible."

And just like that, the endless comparisons began.

I already knew. I’m the black sheep of the family.

I had accepted that.

As I sat down with my math book open but my mind blank, silent tears slipped down my cheeks. I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t listen.

I wanted a hug. Comfort. Someone to love me in ways I couldn’t love myself. Someone to fix my broken pieces and see beauty in my scars. But saying it out loud would only make things worse.

So instead, I reached for my phone.

I opened the screenshot of his picture.

And just like that, I felt better.

He was the closest star in my sky—so bright, yet so far away.

The next day at school felt like high tide—buzzing with restless energy, everyone whispering about the latest gossip.

I spotted Sherwin cracking one of his usual stupid jokes, making the entire group burst into laughter.

Curious, I walked up to him. "What’s going on?"

He grinned. "Oh, just the hot news of the day—our boy Ron is in love with Mrs. Tia Ghosh."

"Wait… what?" I blinked.

Yeah, he actually wrote her a love letter. With her picture attached."

"Is he crazy? She’s a married woman!"

The group exploded into laughter again, just as Ron walked into the classroom.

"Hey, Ron! What’s up?" I called out.

He flashed me a big smile, completely unfazed by the attention.

"Aren’t your parents supposed to meet Mr. Daniel today?" I asked.

"Oh jeez, I totally forgot about that!" he groaned.

And by the way," I lowered my voice, "how could you be crazy enough to fall in love with our Economics teacher?"

Ron just chuckled. "Love is a feeling, Izzy. Age is just a number."

"But she’s married!" I pointed out.

"So what? I believe in destiny. Anything can happen, anytime." He shrugged, as if the universe was on his side.

"You’re insane, Ron." I shook my head and walked away.

As I reached my desk, Suzie leaned in.

"Hey, Izzy—have you heard—"

I cut her off before she could finish.

"I know what you’re going to say. I know everything. No discussion about Ron."

She smirked but said nothing, dropping her head onto the desk.

"Ugh, I’m so sleepy," she mumbled.

I sighed. Same, Suzie. Same.

Math class was as dull as ever. Mrs. Nandani looked more confused about life than about the subject she was supposed to be teaching.

"Hey, you at the back!" she suddenly shouted.

I instinctively tensed up, praying I wasn’t the target this time. Thankfully, her sharp gaze landed on Sushmita instead.

"Yes, ma’am?" Sushi—quiet, timid, and never one to argue—stood up hesitantly.

Mrs. Nandani’s eyes narrowed. "Look at your skirt! You shameless girl. What exactly are you trying to show the boys with your skinned legs?"

The entire room fell silent. Sushi’s face turned pale as she stared at the floor, tears brimming in her eyes. She was too scared to defend herself, too conditioned to stay quiet.

I clenched my fists. This is not okay.

"Excuse me, ma’am," I spoke up, my voice firm. "Wearing a short dress or skirt doesn’t make a girl shameless. Clothes don’t define a person’s character."

A murmur rippled through the class. Then, a wave of applause.

Mrs. Nandani’s face turned red. "Isabella! Principal’s office. Now!"

I smirked. I knew I had struck a nerve. But if standing up for what’s right got me in trouble, then so be it.

I knew she felt humiliated. But sometimes, people needed a taste of their own medicine.

Mrs. Nandini, being dramatic and cranky as usual, couldn’t wait to get her say. The moment we reached Mr. Allen Sutherland’s office, our headmaster, her tone changed—sweet as honey. Suddenly, she was the victim, putting on an act, seeking sympathy, and making it seem like I had humiliated her.

I stood there, arms crossed, watching her performance unfold. But the universe had my back.

"Mrs. Nandini, I’m in the middle of an important meeting. We’ll discuss this later," Mr. Sutherland said, barely looking up from his papers.

Saved!

I bit my lip to keep from grinning as she huffed in frustration. She threw me a mocking glare, but I didn’t care. Let her think whatever she wanted. I walked away with my head high, feeling victorious.

I was lost in my thoughts, wandering through the school ground during break. My brother’s friend—his face, that smirk, those shiny eyes—kept flashing in my mind like an unending ringtone. No matter how hard I tried to focus on something else, he was there, lingering in my thoughts.

Then, a muffled sound caught my attention. A quiet sobbing.

Curious, I followed the sound to the back of the school building, where I found Jenson Samuel, also known as Buck Tooth—a nickname he got because of his slightly protruding teeth. He sat hunched over, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt, trying to hide his tears.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting beside him.

"Hey… are you okay? What’s wrong?" I asked gently.

Jenson sniffed and turned away, avoiding my gaze. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, trying to act tough.

I knew that wasn’t true. Boys, especially in school, rarely let their emotions show unless they were really struggling.

I sighed, knowing that “nothing” always meant “something.”

"Jenson, come on. You wouldn’t be sitting here alone, crying, if it was ‘nothing.’ You can talk to me, you know."

He hesitated, then exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "It’s just... everything. School, home... people laughing at me all the time. ‘Buck Tooth,’ ‘Rabbit Face’—you know the names. It’s stupid, but it gets to me."

I leaned back against the tree beside him. "People can be cruel," I admitted. "But you’re more than their words. And honestly, you shouldn’t let a bunch of idiots decide how you feel about yourself."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Easy for you to say. You stand up for yourself. You don’t care what people think."

I let out a small laugh. "Oh, I care. I just don’t let them see it."

Jenson looked at me, eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

"So what do I do?" he asked after a moment.

"You own who you are. You let people’s words be just that—words. And if they don’t like it, that’s their problem, not yours."

He nodded slowly, as if trying to absorb my words.

Thanks, Izzy," he mumbled. "For not laughing at me."

"Anytime, Buck Tooth," I teased, nudging his arm.

For the first time that day, he smiled.

And as much as my mind wanted to drift back to my brother’s mysterious friend, I felt lighter—knowing that, at least for today, I had made someone else feel seen.

Finally, the day ended on a good note—no physics class today, which felt like a small victory. And with the weekend calling, I couldn’t be happier.

I playfully smacked Suzie on the head. “I’m leaving early! Adu’s back from Kalimpong.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, go run to your brother.”

I grinned and dashed out of school, barely stopping to catch my breath. The thought of seeing Adu after days filled me with excitement. I rushed home as fast as I could, my heart racing—not just because of the run, but because of something else, something I wasn’t ready to admit just yet.

I rang the doorbell, my heart pounding with excitement. The moment the door swung open, and I saw Adu standing there, a wide grin on his face, I couldn’t help myself—I jumped on him like a little monkey.

"I missed you so much, Adu!" I squealed, squeezing him tight.

He laughed, ruffling my hair. "I didn’t miss you at all, my little demon," he teased.

I pouted, but before I could retort, my eyes landed on someone standing just behind him.

And that’s when my world stopped.

I couldn’t believe it.

I just couldn’t believe it.

It was him.

The boy from the picture. The one who had been occupying my thoughts, whose face I had sketched over and over. And now, here he was, standing in front of me in real life—more perfect than I could have ever imagined.

My breath hitched. My heartbeat roared in my ears.

This wasn’t a dream.

It was him.

I froze. Completely speechless.

I couldn’t utter a single word, nor could I take my eyes off him. He walked toward me, his presence filling the room like a slow, enchanting melody.

"Hey, little kid," he said with a smirk. "You're incredibly hilarious, just like your brother described."

Wait. What?

He just made the first move. He spoke to me first. But—little kid?!

Why did he have to call me that? I’m not a kid! I’m a big girl, practically an adult!

Adu, ever the troublemaker, cut in with a teasing grin. "Oh yeah, she's a little demon with two horns."

Laughter erupted around the room, and I wished the ground would just swallow me whole.

Before I could even process my embarrassment, Dad stepped in. "Go get fresh," he instructed.

I nodded numbly, still reeling from him being here, from his voice, his presence, and most of all—his words.

Little kid?

I’ll prove to him I’m not.

My brother had brought me my favorite titora from the hills, and I was just about to dig in when there was a knock on my door.

I jumped up to open it.

It was him.

"Can I use your washroom?" he asked casually, standing there like he belonged in the doorway of my world.

For a second, I just stood there, staring at him—taking in every detail. His voice. His presence. His smell.

Fresh lemonade and aftershave. God.

I snapped back to reality. "Ahh—yes, why not? Come in," I managed to say.

He walked in, and I swear time slowed. Every move he made felt significant, even though it was just him heading to my washroom.

A minute later, he came out, looking just as effortlessly perfect as before.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile.

And then he left.

Just like that.

I stood there, the scent of his aftershave still lingering in the air, my heart racing like I had just run a marathon—when all I did was let him use my washroom.

I ran behind him as he slung his bag over his shoulder. He was about to leave.

I stopped at the doorway, staying out of sight, listening to his conversation with Adu.

"Hey, Adu, I'm moving off. Thanks for the lunch!"

"Okay, brah. Drop in tomorrow, Brandon."

Brandon.

I murmured the name under my breath, letting it settle in my mind. So his name is Brandon...

"We’ll continue our game at night," he added.

"Hey, Bran, ain't you gonna visit your babe?" Adu teased.

"No, she's busy," Brandon replied casually. "I'll visit her tomorrow, most probably."

My heart skipped a beat.

So he has a girlfriend.

Of course, he does. Why wouldn't he? A guy like him—handsome, confident, effortlessly cool—his girlfriend must be gorgeous. Probably someone older, someone perfect.

I felt a lump in my throat. Why did I even care?

Why does my heart feel weak?

I couldn't stop thinking of him. His voice, his smile, the way he carried himself—everything played in loops inside my head.

Taylor Swift’s song drifted softly in the background.

"Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you..."

I shut my eyes tightly, but the ache in my chest wouldn't go away.

I refused dinner. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just curled up in bed, hoping that sleep would take me away from these feelings I didn’t even want to admit.

But even in my dreams, he lingered.

                               Chapter 2 

                       Bond and Beyond.                         

You overslept?" my mom scolded, pulling the blanket off me.

Adu peeked in from the doorway, smirking. "Don't tell me you were up late watching a Korean drama again?"

Was I? I wasn't even sure. My mind had been running its own drama all night.

I groaned and sat up, rubbing my eyes. "Where are you off to so early?" I asked, noticing that Adu was already dressed.

"Going to a friend’s place," he replied casually.

I tried to keep my voice neutral. "Brandon?"

Adu raised an eyebrow. "Why do you want to know?"

I shrugged. "Just asking."

You should be worrying about your exams, not my plans."

"Yes, but I haven't been out in days. Let me come with you," I said, giving him my best pleading look.

He sighed. "Fine. Thirty minutes. Be ready."

I jumped out of bed, my heart racing. Maybe—just maybe—I'd see him again.

Excitement rushed through me. I had no idea where Adu was going, but the possibility of seeing Brandon again made my heart race. I quickly freshened up, threw on a casual hoodie and jeans, and rushed downstairs.

“Ready?” Adu asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded eagerly.

As we stepped out, I couldn't help but ask, “So, are we going to Brandon’s place?”

Adu smirked. “Why? You got a crush on him or something?”

“What? No!” I scoffed, trying to sound convincing.

Hmm…” He eyed me suspiciously before chuckling. “Let’s go.”

I sighed in relief, but deep down, I knew—this wasn’t just a silly crush. It was something more, something I wasn’t ready to admit yet.

We finally reached Brandon’s place, and he welcomed us in with his usual smirk.

"Hey, little kid, you’re here too?" he teased.

I rolled my eyes, but before I could say anything, Adu sighed dramatically. "I don’t even know why she wanted to tag along."

Ignoring them both, I stepped inside, taking in the cozy yet modern vibe of his house. Then my eyes landed on her.

A girl sat on the sofa, casually scrolling through her phone. She wore hot pants and a crop top, her confidence radiating effortlessly. She looked like she belonged in a movie—absolutely stunning.

Adu greeted her with a polite nod. "Hey, Rebecca."

My heart skipped a beat. Was she Brandon’s sister?

Brandon chuckled, almost like he read my mind. "She’s my girlfriend."

The words echoed in my head. Girlfriend.

I forced a smile, but something inside me twisted uncomfortably. She was breathtaking, no doubt. Maybe even prettier than Megan Fox.

And suddenly, I hated how I felt.

My eyes were glued to him, watching the way he treated his girlfriend—with such love, care, and effortless affection. The way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her—it was enough to make my heart ache in ways I didn’t understand.

Just then, his voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Hey, little kid, do you want something to eat?"

I clenched my fists, annoyance bubbling inside me. Little kid. Again.

I crossed my arms and shot him a glare. "I’m not a kid, and no, I’m not hungry." My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care.

Adu, of course, found this hilarious. He burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Don’t believe her, bro. She eats like a monster."

Brandon chuckled, his deep laugh sending a shiver down my spine. I looked away, hoping he didn’t notice the warmth creeping up my face.

Brandon, if you don't mind, can I use your washroom?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.

"Of course, why not?" he said, flashing me a big, wide smile.

Before I could take a step, he added, "Come, I'll take you."

My heart stuttered at those words, and as we walked side by side toward his bedroom, my hand accidentally brushed against his. It was brief—barely a second—but something about that touch sent a shiver down my spine. It felt different. It felt like something I could die to experience again.

He opened the washroom door for me, standing there casually like it was nothing. But to me, it was everything. I turned to him, hesitating for a moment before saying, "Your girlfriend is beautiful.

Brandon tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. "And you’re cute," he said effortlessly.

Wait. What?

Did he just call me cute?

Was I hearing things, or was this some kind of dream I’d wake up from any second now? I blinked up at him in disbelief, and as if reading my thoughts, he chuckled.

"Yes, little kid, you’re too cute," he repeated, and before I could even react, his hand reached out, stroking my head gently.

Heaven.

That was the only word I could think of at that moment. His touch had a warmth that sent tingles down my spine, an unfamiliar sensation that sparked something deep inside me—a craving I had no control over.

Before I could get lost in it, his voice broke through my trance.

"Come on, little kid, get in, or you’ll wet your pants standing here," he teased, smirking.

Embarrassed, I rushed inside, shutting the door behind me. My heart was racing, my face burning. I leaned against the door, taking deep breaths.

I was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble.

I turned on the tap, letting the cold water run as I splashed some onto my face, hoping it would calm the storm raging inside me. But nothing helped. My heart was still racing, my mind replaying every second of what just happened.

"You're cute."

"Yes, little kid, you're too cute."

That touch… his hand on my head… the way he smirked.

I let out a deep sigh, gripping the sink. "Why am I like this?" I muttered under my breath. He had a girlfriend. A stunning one. And here I was, losing my mind over a fleeting touch and a teasing compliment.

After a few more deep breaths, I straightened up, wiped my face, and stepped out. Brandon was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. As soon as he noticed me, he looked up.

That took you a while, little kid. What happened? Were you practicing your cuteness in the mirror?" he teased.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "For the last time, I’m not a kid!"

Brandon chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."

I wanted to say something—anything—to wipe that smug grin off his face, but before I could, Adu called out from the living room. "Izzy, let’s go!"

In my mind, I felt a wave of disappointment—we had barely arrived, and now we had to leave.

"Yes, I'm coming," I muttered reluctantly.

As I turned to leave, Brandon called out, "Hey, little kid, give me your phone."

"Why?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

Without waiting for an answer, he smoothly took my phone, saved his number, and called himself.

My heart skipped a beat.

We had just exchanged numbers.

I couldn't believe what had just happened.

Relieved to escape whatever this was, I quickly made my way back, ignoring the way Brandon’s gaze followed me.

Rebecca was still seated on the sofa, flipping through her phone, barely acknowledging anyone. As we said our goodbyes, Brandon walked us to the door.

"See you around, little kid," he said, ruffling my hair.

I swatted his hand away, glaring at him, but he only laughed.

Adu and I walked toward the main road, waiting for a cab. I remained silent, my thoughts spinning in a thousand directions.

"So," Adu finally said, nudging me. "What’s with you? You’ve been acting weird since we got here."

"Nothing," I replied too quickly.

He gave me a look. "Liar. Did Brandon say something to you?"

"No."

"Then why is your face red?"

Damn it.

I turned away, pretending to look at the passing cars. "It’s hot."

Adu laughed. "Yeah, sure. Keep lying to yourself, little demon."

I groaned. This was going to be a long ride home.

The ride home felt endless. My mind kept replaying everything—his voice, his smirk, the way his hand ruffled my hair. I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me like an unshakable melody.

Adu sat next to me, scrolling through his phone. Every now and then, he’d glance at me with a knowing smirk, as if he could read my thoughts. It was infuriating.

As soon as we reached home, I rushed to my room, shutting the door behind me. I flopped onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow.

"Why am I like this?" I muttered.

I had never reacted this way to anyone before. Sure, I had seen good-looking guys, but Brandon—he was different. He had a kind of effortless charm, the kind that made people gravitate toward him. But he also had a girlfriend. And that should have been my wake-up call.

"Get over it, Izzy," I told myself.

A soft knock interrupted my overthinking. "Izzy?" It was my mom.

I quickly sat up. "Yeah?"

She peeked inside. "Dinner’s ready. You didn’t eat properly last night. Come on."

I wasn’t hungry, but I knew she’d make me sit at the table anyway. With a sigh, I got up and followed her to the dining room.

Adu was already there, munching on his food. He gave me a smirk as I sat down.

"You okay, little demon? You seem distracted."

I shot him a glare. "Shut up and eat."

He laughed but didn’t push further. My mom glanced between us. "What are you two up to now?"

Nothing, Mom," I quickly said before Adu could open his mouth.

The rest of dinner went on in silence, but my thoughts refused to quiet down.

After dinner, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

My phone buzzed.

Brandon: Did you reach home safely, little kid?

I stared at the message, my heart doing an annoying little flip.

Why is he texting me?

I took a deep breath and typed back.

Me: Yeah.

I hovered over the send button, then deleted it. That sounded too dry.

Me: Yeah, got home safe. Thanks for asking.

I hit send before I could overthink.

A few seconds later, three dots appeared.

Then his reply came.

Brandon: Good. Sleep well, little kid.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. Finally, I typed:

Me: I told you, I’m not a kid!

His response came instantly.

Brandon: Sure, sure. Good night, little kid.

I groaned into my pillow.

This was going to be a problem.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing. I groggily reached for it, rubbing my eyes. A message notification flashed on the screen.

Brandon: Wake up, little kid. Don’t sleep the whole day.

I blinked at the screen, my heart racing. Why was he texting me again?

I quickly typed back.

Me: Stop calling me that. And why are you even texting me this early?

His reply came almost immediately.

Brandon: Because it’s fun to annoy you. Now get up.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my lips.

Just then, my bedroom door swung open, and Adu walked in, stretching his arms.

“Morning, little demon. Mom’s calling you for breakfast.”

I groaned. “Why do both of you enjoy irritating me so much?”

Who both?" Adu asked, raising an eyebrow.

I hesitated for a moment, unable to bring myself to say Brandon’s name.

Instead, I crossed my arms and huffed, "You and Mom. You both get pleasure from annoying me."

Adu smirked, clearly enjoying my frustration.

Adu grinned. “Because it’s too easy.”

I threw my pillow at him, but he dodged it effortlessly, laughing as he walked out.

I sighed and got up, heading to the dining room.

Mom was already seated, reading the newspaper, while Dad sipped his coffee.

“Morning,” I mumbled, taking my seat.

“You woke up late again,” Mom commented without looking up.

“Not my fault,” I muttered.

Adu snickered. “Yeah, yeah, totally not your fault. Maybe you were dreaming about someone.”

I kicked him under the table, making him yelp.

Mom shot us a warning look. “Behave.”

I quickly focused on my breakfast, but my mind kept drifting back to my phone, itching to check if Brandon had sent another text.

Why was I acting like this? This wasn’t me.

After breakfast, I went back to my room and hesitantly picked up my phone.

No new messages.

Good.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

I had to get a grip on myself. Brandon had a girlfriend. A gorgeous, confident girlfriend. I was just some random little sister to him.

Nothing more.

I should move on.

I should stop thinking about  him. 

Black Monday. Ugh. I hated waking up early for school.

I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. Holy heaven, Mr. Daniel is going to screw the hell out of me today. And Nandu… ugh, why is she even still existing?

Frustration bubbling inside me, I shouted, "Adu!"

From the other room, his sleepy voice grumbled, "What's the matter, little demon? Why are you so noisy this early in the morning?"

I stormed into his room, "Wake up, get ready, and you have to come to my school to meet Mr. Daniel!"

Why the hell do you always bring trouble upon yourself—and everyone else?" Adu groaned, rubbing his temples.

I knew he was right. He always was. But at this moment, I had no choice but to keep pleading.

"Adu, please, please come! I’ll do all your work, whatever you say! Just don’t tell Mom and Dad," I begged, clutching his arm like my life depended on it.

He sighed, looking at me with narrowed eyes. "Anything I say?"

I nodded frantically.

"Fine. But you owe me—big time."

Thank you, Adu!" I squealed, jumping on him and hugging him tight.

He chuckled, pulling my cheeks. "Go get ready, little demon. I'll be there at 10:00 AM."

Relieved, I rushed to my room, my heart still racing. At least I had Adu by my side—now I just had to survive whatever Mr. Daniel and Nandini had in store for me.

Ting! Ting! Ting! The school bell rang, echoing through the corridors.

Out of nowhere, Ron appeared in front of me, just like a genie summoned from a shaken lamp.

"What's new?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He leaned in and whispered into my ear, "I'm gay."

"WAIT, WHAT?!" I shouted in shock, my voice carrying across the hallway.

Heads turned, eyes locked onto me. Suzie came rushing over, panic flashing across her face. "Is everything okay?"

I looked at Ron, then at Suzie, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, everything’s fine… umm… it’s just that I realized today is Black Monday, and we have to deal with Mr. Daniel for two periods."

Suzie groaned. "Ugh, don’t remind me."

Ron smirked, nudging me. "Smooth save, Izzy."

Suzie rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Izzy? Of all things, you're worried about Mr. Daniel?"

I sighed dramatically. "You don’t get it, Suzie. Mr. Daniel is out for my blood! I still haven’t submitted last week’s assignment, and I might just get buried alive in detention."

Ron chuckled. "Well, at least you won’t be alone. I heard Nandu messed up the lab experiment last class. She poured vinegar into the wrong test tube, and it exploded all over Mr. Daniel’s coat."

Suzie gasped, covering her mouth. "Oh my God! No wonder she was sulking this morning."

Just then, the class door creaked open, and in walked Mr. Daniel, looking as grumpy as ever. His usual brown coat was replaced with a slightly burnt one, the edges still singed from the explosion incident. His sharp eyes scanned the room, landing directly on me.

"Isabelle!" he called out, his voice slicing through the air like a whip.

I gulped. "Y-yes, sir?"

"My office. Now."

The class fell silent. Suzie gave me a sympathetic look, while Ron whispered, "RIP, Izzy."

I dragged my feet to the door, my heart pounding. What now?

As I stepped into the hallway, I heard footsteps behind me. "Relax, little demon. I got this."

I turned to see Adu standing there, his hands in his pockets, giving me his usual smirk. My hero had arrived.

My eyes widened in surprise. “Adu! What are you doing here?”

He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you I’d be here at 10? I swear, you have the memory of a goldfish.”

Before I could reply, Mr. Daniel cleared his throat, looking unimpressed. “Mr. Adu, I assume you’re here because Isabelle dragged you into yet another one of her messes?”

Adu crossed his arms. “Well, sir, technically, I was invited. Now, what seems to be the problem?”

I clutched Adu’s sleeve like a lifeline while Mr. Daniel narrowed his eyes at me. “The problem is your sister hasn’t submitted last week’s assignment. And she’s been distracting half the class during my lectures.”

“Hey!” I protested. “That’s not true!”

Mr. Daniel raised a brow. “Really? Then why did I hear you screaming ‘Wait, what?!’ in the middle of class this morning?”

I felt my face burn. Oh no. He definitely heard my reaction to Ron’s confession. Adu smirked, clearly amused.

Well, sir,” Adu said smoothly, “Izzy does have a habit of being... overly dramatic. But I’m sure there’s a way to settle this.”

Mr. Daniel crossed his arms. “She has detention for a week. And she has until Friday to submit her missing assignment. No excuses.”

“A week?!” I gasped. “Sir, that’s cruel and unusual punishment!”

Mr. Daniel looked completely unfazed. “Take it or get suspended, Isabelle.”

I turned to Adu desperately, hoping he would work his magic. He sighed and looked at Mr. Daniel. “Sir, I’ll personally make sure she finishes the assignment and stays out of trouble. Can we cut the detention to three days?”

Mr. Daniel considered it for a moment before finally nodding. “Fine. Three days. But one more distraction from her, and it’s back to a full week.”

I exhaled in relief. “Thank you, sir! You won’t regret it.”

“I already do,” he muttered before waving us off.

As soon as we left the office, I threw my arms around Adu. “You saved my life!”

He groaned. “Okay, okay, don’t get all sappy on me.”

Ron and Suzie were waiting outside. “So?” Suzie asked eagerly.

I sighed dramatically. “Detention for three days. But at least I’m not getting suspended.”

Ron grinned. “See? Black Monday isn’t all that bad.”

I glared at him. “Easy for you to say! You don’t have to suffer through it.”

Before he could reply, my phone buzzed. A new message.

Unknown Number: Hey little kid, hope you survived Black Monday.

My breath hitched. I knew exactly who it was. Brandon.

My heart skipped a beat. Brandon messaged me. I stared at the screen, my fingers frozen.

“Izzy, why are you blushing?” Suzie asked, peeking over my shoulder.

I quickly locked my phone. “I’m not!”

Ron smirked. “Oh, she definitely is. Who was that? A secret lover?”

“No!” I snapped a little too quickly. Adu raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

I stole another glance at my phone, my heart racing. Should I reply? I didn't want to sound too eager, but I also didn’t want to ignore him. Before I could overthink it, my fingers typed out a response.

Me: Somehow, I survived. Barely.

Almost instantly, my phone buzzed again.

Brandon: Knew you would. What’s the punishment?

I smiled to myself.

Me: Three days of detention. Mr. Daniel thinks I’m a menace to society.

Brandon: Lol, I don’t blame him. You kinda are.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face.

Suzie nudged me. “Izzy, you’re totally crushing on whoever that is.”

“No, I’m not!” I protested.

Adu suddenly leaned down and plucked my phone from my hands.

“Adu! Give it back!” I lunged for it, but he held it high over my head. He scrolled through the messages, his face unreadable. Then, he looked at me, then at Ron and Suzie, and finally back at me.

“Brandon, huh?”

My stomach dropped.

Ron’s eyes widened. “Wait. Brandon? As in your brother’s friend? As in Rebecca’s Brandon?”

I swallowed hard. “He’s just being nice!”

Adu sighed. “Izzy, don’t get carried away. He has a girlfriend, remember?”

I crossed my arms. “I know that.”

“Then don’t start hoping for something that won’t happen.”

His words stung more than I wanted to admit.

Ron gave me a sympathetic look. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I need ice cream, and I think you do too.”

Suzie grinned. “Ooooh, let’s go to the new café down the street!”

Adu tossed my phone back to me. “Fine, but Izzy, no more trouble. Got it?”

I sighed dramatically. “I promise.”

But as we walked out of school, my phone buzzed again. Another message from Brandon.

Brandon: I’ll make it up to you. Ice cream, after detention?

I stared at the screen, my heart racing.

Ron peeked over my shoulder. “Izzy… do not fall for this guy.”

Too late.

I knew I should have listened to Ron. I knew it. But my heart didn’t care.

Brandon was offering to meet me. Brandon. The guy who smelled like fresh lemonade, whose touch sent shivers down my spine, whose smile made my stomach flip.

My fingers hovered over my phone. What should I say? A simple yes? A cool, casual response?

Me: Only if you’re paying.

A few seconds later, my phone buzzed.

Brandon: Greedy little kid. Fine. But don’t expect much.

I grinned. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

Ron and Suzie were watching me like hawks.

“What?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.

Suzie shook her head. “Izzy, you’re playing with fire.”

Ron folded his arms. “Brandon has a girlfriend. What do you think this is going to lead to?”

I hated that they were making sense. I hated that my heart still raced at the thought of seeing him.

“It’s just ice cream.” I muttered. “Nothing else.”

Ron scoffed. “Nothing else… for now.”

We spent the rest of the evening at the café, but my mind was somewhere else. I imagined the moment—how it would feel to see him alone, without Rebecca around. Would he sit close to me? Would he smile at me the way he did earlier?

The next day, detention dragged on forever. Mr. Daniel had me sorting old test papers in his stuffy office. I could barely focus. I kept checking my phone, counting down the minutes.

Finally, at 5:30, I rushed out of school. And there he was.

Leaning against his bike, looking completely effortless. Brandon.

“Took you long enough.” He smirked.

I rolled my eyes. “Mr. Daniel wanted to keep me locked in forever.”

He handed me a helmet. “Get on.”

My heart pounded. “We’re going on your bike?”

He laughed. “What did you expect? A horse-drawn carriage?”

I swallowed hard and climbed on behind him. As soon as I wrapped my arms around his waist, I felt it—that warmth, that pull.

The engine roared, and we sped off into the evening. The city lights blurred past us, and for the first time in a long time, I felt free.

When we reached the ice cream place, he parked and pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair like he was in some kind of movie scene.

“You good?” he asked.

I nodded, but my mind was screaming: No, I’m not good. I think I might be falling for you.

We ordered our ice cream—his, vanilla; mine, chocolate. He leaned on the table, watching me with that stupid, heart-melting smirk.

“So, tell me, Izzy… do you always get into trouble?”

I licked my spoon, trying to act cool. “Only when it’s worth it.”

His eyes locked onto mine, and for a second, I swore I saw something there. Something more.

But then—

“Brandon?”

I froze.

Rebecca.

She was standing a few feet away, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.

My stomach dropped. I felt like I’d been caught stealing something that was never mine to begin with.

Brandon turned to look at Rebecca, his expression unreadable. My heart hammered against my ribs. I suddenly felt like I had been caught sneaking into a place I didn’t belong.

Rebecca’s eyes flickered between us, her lips pressing into a thin line. She was stunning, standing there in a casual hoodie and ripped jeans, her perfect hair falling effortlessly over her shoulders. She didn’t even have to try to look good.

"Ice cream date, huh?" she said, crossing her arms.

Brandon sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "It’s not what you think, Becca."

I swallowed hard, gripping my spoon like it was some kind of anchor. "Yeah, we just—"

"Save it." Her voice was sharp. Her gaze turned to me, and for the first time, I saw something that made my chest tighten—insecurity.

She was worried. She saw me as a threat. Me. The girl Brandon called "little kid."

Why?

Brandon exhaled. "Rebecca, can we not do this here?"

Rebecca let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

I suddenly felt like I was intruding on their story, like a misplaced sentence in someone else’s book. My ice cream sat untouched, melting just like my confidence.

I stood up, pushing my chair back. "I should go."

Brandon’s eyes shot to me. "Izzy—"

Rebecca smirked. "Yeah, maybe you should."

Something in the way she said it hit me like a slap.

Brandon sighed again, his jaw tightening. "Rebecca, don’t—"

"Don’t what, Brandon?" She snapped. "Don’t act like I don’t see what’s happening? Don’t act like you haven’t been paying more attention to her than me?"

Silence.

My throat went dry.

Brandon didn’t deny it.

I needed to get out of there. Now.

I grabbed my bag and bolted, ignoring the sound of Brandon calling my name. I ran past the café doors, past the streetlights, past the laughter of people who weren’t stuck in some stupid, messy, heart-wrenching triangle.

I stopped at the corner of the street, pressing a hand against my chest. What was I doing?

This wasn’t a K-drama. This wasn’t some slow-burn romance where the guy realized he was in love with the girl who had been right in front of him all along.

This was real life. And in real life, the girlfriend always won.

I took a deep breath and forced my feet to move. I needed to forget this night. I needed to forget him.

But the second my phone buzzed with his name flashing on the screen…

I knew forgetting him was never going to be that easy.

I stared at my phone, Brandon’s name glowing like a forbidden promise. My fingers hovered over the screen, my heart and mind waging war. Do I answer? Do I ignore it?

Before I could decide, the call ended. A second later, a message popped up.

Brandon: Izzy, please talk to me.

I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the phone. I wanted to scream at him, to ask what the hell I was to him. A friend? A joke? A passing distraction?

I turned off my phone and shoved it into my pocket, walking faster. The cold night air bit at my skin, but I welcomed it. Maybe it would numb the ridiculous ache in my chest.

I made it home, slamming my door shut behind me.

"Izzy? Why are you back so early?" Adu called from the living room.

"Not now, Adu," I muttered, heading straight for my room.

I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow. This was stupid. I was acting like some heartbroken girl from a bad romance novel.

I wasn’t even his.

I groaned, rolling onto my back. My ceiling fan spun lazily above me, mocking my thoughts.

Then, my phone buzzed again.

I sighed, grabbing it.

Another message.

Brandon: Meet me tomorrow. Please.

I should have ignored it. I should have blocked his number and moved on.

Instead, I found myself typing back before I could stop myself.

Me: Where?

His reply was instant.

Brandon: The park. 5 PM.

I exhaled sharply.

This was going to end in disaster. I just knew it.

The night stretched long and lonely, its silence wrapping around me like an old, forgotten song. My heart beat against my ribs, a restless bird trapped in its cage. Sleep evaded me, tangled in the web of thoughts I didn’t want to acknowledge.

Why did he want to meet me?

Why did I agree?

I turned to the window, watching the moon hang in the sky, silver and secretive, whispering to the stars. I wanted to reach for it, to ask if it had ever ached for something it could never have.

A sigh escaped my lips, soft as a feather drifting on the wind.

Morning came too soon. Sunlight trickled through my curtains, golden fingers prying me from the fragile embrace of sleep. I blinked at the ceiling, heart already racing. Today was the day.

"Izzy! Wake up!" Adu’s voice thundered from downstairs. "You’re going to be late!"

I groaned, dragging myself out of bed. My reflection in the mirror stared back—dark circles under my eyes, lips pressed into a thin line. Pathetic.

School passed in a blur of dull lectures and whispered conversations. Ron and Suzie chattered beside me, but their words were distant waves crashing against the shore of my thoughts. My mind was already at the park, already standing before him.

And then, suddenly, it was time.

The sky bled hues of orange and pink as I walked toward the meeting place. My heart thrummed like a melody waiting for its chorus. And there he was—leaning against a tree, the fading light casting shadows across his face.

Brandon.

His name was poetry on my lips, a song I wasn’t supposed to sing.

He looked up as I approached, a slow, lopsided smile curving his lips. "You came."

"I don’t know why," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He took a step closer. The air between us crackled like an unsung verse, waiting to be spoken.

"Because you wanted to," he said. "Just like I wanted you to."

His words wrapped around me, warm and dangerous. My pulse fluttered.

"Why did you call me here, Brandon?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes searching mine. "Because I needed to see you. I needed to know if... if I was the only one feeling this."

The world tilted. My breath hitched.

"Feeling what?" I asked, though I already knew.

"This," he murmured, reaching out, his fingers brushing mine—gentle, fleeting, yet enough to set my skin ablaze. "The way my heart stumbles when you’re near. The way I wish I didn’t have to call you 'little kid' just to keep my distance."

The evening breeze carried his words between us, weaving them into the twilight. My chest ached, my heart begging to believe him.

But then, a memory of Rebecca’s perfect face flashed in my mind, and the dream shattered.

"You have a girlfriend, Brandon." My voice trembled.

He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. "I know."

Silence stretched, thick and unspoken. The moon watched. The stars listened.

And I?

I stood at the edge of something dangerous, knowing I should turn back. But instead, I whispered, "Then why are you here with me?"

Brandon’s jaw tightened, and his gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes. The weight of my words settled between us like a storm cloud about to break.

"I'm only 15, a teenager," I whispered, my voice carrying both defiance and uncertainty. "And you're a 24-year-old man."

The space between us suddenly felt wider, colder. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Izzy..." He hesitated, his voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place—regret? Frustration? Guilt?

I took a shaky step back. "This... whatever this is... it's not right, Brandon."

He looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. The wind played with my hair, lifting loose strands across my face, but I didn’t brush them away. My heart pounded, a wild drumbeat against my ribs.

"I know." His voice was barely audible, lost in the whisper of the evening breeze. "I know, Izzy. And that’s why I need to stop this before it turns into something we can’t take back."

A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat. "Before? Brandon, it’s already something."

He sighed heavily, finally meeting my gaze. "I shouldn’t have called you here. I shouldn’t have said those things."

Anger, confusion, heartbreak—they all crashed into me at once. "Then why did you? Why did you touch me like that? Look at me like that?" My voice broke, and I hated myself for it.

Brandon ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly. "Because... because I forgot for a second. I forgot that you're just a kid. I forgot that I’m supposed to be the adult here."

Just a kid.

The words stung, like ice water thrown onto my burning skin.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Then forget me, Brandon." My voice was steady now, colder than I thought possible. "If I’m just a kid, then let me go."

He stared at me, something breaking in his expression, but he nodded. "You're right." His voice was rough. "Goodbye, Izzy."

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

I watched him disappear into the fading twilight, my heart shattering with each step he took.

I should have felt relief.

But all I felt was loss.

As Brandon's figure disappeared into the horizon, a hollow ache settled deep within my chest. The wind carried his absence, whispering his name like an unfinished song.

"Goodbye, Izzy." His voice echoed in my mind, each syllable carving a wound too deep to heal.

I turned away, my steps slow, heavy, as if the earth itself mourned with me.

Love is a fleeting shadow, a dream upon the tide,

A touch that lingers softly, then vanishes in the night.

I was the moon, he was the sun, never meant to collide,

Yet for a moment, we burned, before fading out of sight.

Tears pricked at the edges of my vision, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

By the time I reached home, Adu was waiting by the door, his arms crossed, concern etched across his face. "Where were you?" he asked, his tone softer than usual.

I shrugged, stepping past him. "Nowhere important."

Adu grabbed my wrist, forcing me to look at him. "Izzy, don’t do this. Don’t bottle it up."

I smiled, but it felt like a lie. "There’s nothing to bottle up."

He sighed, releasing me, but I could feel his gaze follow me as I climbed the stairs to my room.

I shut the door, collapsing onto my bed, letting the silence wrap around me like a cold embrace.

In another life, would he have stayed?

Would his hands still trace the lines of fate?

Would love have been enough to break the chains?

Or was I always meant to wait?

I stared at my phone, my fingers hovering over his number.

No.

I turned it off, burying it beneath my pillow, as if that could silence the longing in my heart.

Tomorrow, I would wake up.

Tomorrow, I would pretend none of this ever happened.

Tomorrow, I would be just a kid again.

But tonight—

Tonight, I let myself break.

The moon hung outside my window, casting silver whispers over my tear-stained pillow. Sleep refused to embrace me, and my mind danced between reality and the fragments of a dream that could never be.

I turned over, staring at the ceiling, whispering to the night.

"Do you hear me, Brandon? In the rustling leaves, in the cold wind that brushes against your skin? Do you feel me the way I feel you? Or am I just another passing moment in your life?"

My phone buzzed beneath my pillow, startling me from my thoughts. My heart leaped as I grabbed it, hoping, praying—

It was just Adu.

Adu: "Don’t overthink. Sleep, little demon."

I sighed, typing back.

Me: "I’m not overthinking."

Adu: "Liar."

I didn’t reply. What could I say? That my world felt like it was slipping from my hands before I ever had the chance to hold it?

Minutes turned to hours, and somehow, exhaustion won.

—

The next morning, I woke up late again.

"Izzy!" Mom’s voice shattered my sleep. "You’re going to be late for school!"

Groaning, I forced myself out of bed, the cold floor shocking my senses awake. As I got dressed, my phone vibrated again.

One new message.

Brandon: "Hey, kid. You up?"

My breath hitched. My fingers hovered over the screen before I finally typed:

Me: "I’m not a kid."

Three dots appeared.

Brandon: "Sure you aren’t. 😉"

I rolled my eyes, my heart betraying me with every beat.

At school, Suzie was waiting by my locker, arms crossed.

"You look like hell," she said.

"Thanks for the compliment," I muttered.

"So, what’s up with you? You’ve been spaced out since yesterday."

I hesitated before shrugging. "Nothing important."

Ron appeared beside us, grinning. "I smell drama. Spill."

I shook my head, stuffing my books into my bag. "There’s nothing to spill, Ron."

"Oh, so it’s about a guy?" His eyes widened in amusement. "Tell me everything."

Suzie gasped. "Wait, wait, wait. It’s Brandon, isn’t it?"

I froze.

Suzie’s smirk deepened. "Oh my god. It is Brandon, isn’t it?"

Ron let out a dramatic gasp. "Scandalous! The forbidden love story of a 15-year-old and a 24-year-old—"

"Shut up!" I hissed, shoving him. "It’s nothing like that!"

Suzie leaned closer. "But you like him, don’t you?"

I opened my mouth, ready to deny it. Ready to say that it was just a fleeting moment, a silly crush—

But the words never came.

Suzie’s knowing smile softened. "Izzy… this is dangerous."

I swallowed hard. "I know."

Ron sighed. "Then what are you gonna do?"

I looked down at my phone, Brandon’s message still glowing on the screen.

What was I going to do?

The corridors hummed with the usual chaos—laughter, footsteps, hurried whispers—but all of it felt distant, like I was trapped in my own bubble of thoughts. Suzie and Ron walked beside me, exchanging glances as if they were waiting for me to say something.

I tightened my grip on my phone. What am I going to do?

Brandon was a 24-year-old man. I was just a 15-year-old girl, barely understanding the world, let alone the tangled mess of emotions twisting inside me. And yet, his presence, his words, the way he looked at me—it all felt so intoxicatingly real.

Ron nudged me. "Izzy, snap out of it. We have Mr. Daniel’s class, and if you look like you just walked out of a romance novel, he’s going to make you solve equations on the board just to punish you."

I groaned. "God, not Daniel."

Suzie smirked. "You deserve it. You’ve been floating in a dream since yesterday."

Dream? Maybe that’s what it was. A dream I needed to wake up from before I fell too deep.

I barely survived math class. Mr. Daniel had his usual wrath, but thankfully, he was more interested in tormenting the boys than grilling me today. As soon as the bell rang, I bolted out of the classroom and checked my phone again.

One new message.

Brandon: "Done with school yet, little kid?"

I bit my lip, staring at the screen.

Me: "Stop calling me that."

A reply came almost instantly.

Brandon: "Alright. How about ‘cutie’ then?"

My face burned. I glanced around to make sure no one saw me grinning like an idiot.

Me: "Shut up."

Brandon: "Meet me at the park near your place after school."

I hesitated. Should I?

Suzie peered over my shoulder. "Are you seriously going to meet him?"

I turned off my phone. "No."

She gave me a long, suspicious look. "Liar."

I sighed. "Fine, maybe. I don’t know, Suz. I just... I need to figure this out."

Ron crossed his arms. "Figure what out? That this is dangerous? That you’re just a kid to him?"

His words stung more than I wanted to admit. "He doesn’t see me as a kid."

Suzie’s expression softened. "Izzy, maybe you should take a step back. Crushes can feel like the world, but sometimes, they’re just illusions. And sometimes, they break you."

I swallowed hard. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was all in my head.

But I still wanted to see him.

The sun was beginning to set when I arrived at the park. The golden hues painted the sky in soft pinks and fiery oranges, and for a moment, everything felt... peaceful.

Then I saw him.

Brandon was leaning against his bike, arms crossed, looking effortlessly cool in his black jacket and ripped jeans. When he spotted me, he smirked.

"Took you long enough, little kid."

I rolled my eyes. "I told you not to call me that."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Come here."

I hesitated before stepping closer, my heart hammering in my chest.

How was school?" he asked, casually leaning forward.

"Boring."

He nodded. "Figures. You looked lost yesterday. What’s on your mind?"

I could’ve lied. I could’ve changed the subject. But instead, I found myself whispering the truth.

"You."

He blinked, caught off guard. Then, a slow smile curved his lips.

"Me?"

I nodded, looking down. "I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what I’m feeling. But I know I don’t want it to stop."

He was quiet for a long time, and when I finally looked up, there was something unreadable in his eyes.

"Izzy..." His voice was softer now, careful. "You’re fifteen."

I tensed. "I know that."

"And I’m twenty-four."

"I know that too."

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "You don’t get it. This... whatever you’re feeling, it’s not right."

My heart clenched. "Then why did you ask me to meet you?"

His jaw tightened. "Because I like talking to you. Because you’re different. But that doesn’t mean we can—"

"Can’t we?" I cut in, desperation creeping into my voice. "Just for a moment? Just once?"

He looked at me, really looked at me, and for a second, I thought he might give in.

But then he shook his head. "No, Izzy. Not like this."

The wind blew between us, cold and unforgiving, carrying away the moment I had wanted so badly to hold onto.

And just like that, I knew.

Some dreams weren’t meant to come true.

   

                            Chapter 3 

            A heart caught between time 

The night whispered secrets to the restless wind, weaving dreams I had no right to dream. The stars blinked knowingly, their silent glimmers a cruel reminder of the thoughts I couldn't escape. The echoes of his voice—You're too cute, little kid—played like a haunting refrain, weaving through my dreams, slipping through my reality. My heart waged a silent rebellion, fighting against the logic that screamed at me.

I’m only 15, a teenager… and he’s a 24-year-old man.

The thought burned like a match against my skin, brief yet searing. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the warmth of his touch, the way his hand brushed mine, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long. But my mind refused to obey, replaying every detail with painful clarity.

Morning arrived, golden and indifferent. My phone vibrated, breaking my trance.

Wake up, dreamer. Reality is calling!”

Suzie’s message blinked on the screen, and with a deep sigh, I dragged myself out of bed.

At school, the usual chaos reigned—papers fluttering like restless birds, voices clashing in a discordant melody, the metallic clang of lockers slamming shut. But everything felt distant, as if I were watching from behind a fogged-up window.

“Izzy! Are you even listening?”

Suzie’s fingers snapped in front of my face, jolting me back.

“Huh? What?”

She crossed her arms. “Girl, you’ve been in la-la land since morning. Spill it.”

Ron leaned in, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “It’s about that guy, isn’t it? The one who’s got your heart doing somersaults.”

I swallowed. Was I that obvious?

“No! I mean, yes—I mean, ugh, it’s complicated.”

Suzie raised an eyebrow. “Complicated how? Either you like him, or you don’t.”

I chewed my lip. How could I put into words the storm inside me? How could I explain that he was a forbidden melody, a song I had no right to hum, yet one that refused to leave my head? How could I say that my heart leaped at his name but crashed at the cruel truth that we were worlds apart?

Ron clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Izzy, feelings don’t ask for permission. They just happen. But you gotta decide—are you running into a storm or waiting for the clouds to pass?”

His words hit me harder than I expected. Was I foolishly stepping into something that would leave me shattered? Or was I simply a girl caught in the tides of a fleeting moment?

The bell shrieked through the air, snapping me out of my thoughts. As I walked to class, my heart remained suspended between dreams and reality—caught between time, caught between what was and what could never be.

Sherwin and Craig popped up in front of me like crazy lunatics, their eyes glinting with mischief.

“Hey, Izzy! Any grub left in your bag?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing their definition of ‘grub’ meant wiping out whatever was left in my lunch.

“Yes,” I sighed. “I’ve got some nuggets and a sandwich left.”

I’m hungry too,” Suzie chimed in, her puppy-dog eyes already working their magic.

With a resigned smile, I reached into my bag and handed over the last bits of food. Sherwin and Craig immediately pounced on it like ravenous wolves.

“Bless you, Izzy. You’re a lifesaver.” Craig grinned, stuffing a nugget into his mouth.

I shook my head, the weight on my heart easing just a little. Sometimes, amidst all the chaos, it was moments like these—silly, ordinary, and filled with warmth—that reminded me I was still just a teenager, still figuring out my place in a world that seemed far too vast for a heart so small.

Sherwin nudged me, his voice dipping into something more serious. “Izzy, what’s really on your mind?”

I hesitated. The truth was too big, too complicated. So I just smiled, nudging him back. “Nothing that a sandwich and some nuggets couldn’t fix.”

He didn’t believe me, but he let it go. And for now, that was enough. 

"I opened my arms wide and asked, 'Can I get a hug from all of you?' Craig glanced at me, then at Sherwin, and we all embraced in a warm group hug that filled me with a profound sense of comfort. Suzie leaned in close, her breath soft against my ear, and whispered, 'I know this is what you needed; I'm sorry it took me so long to understand.' In that moment, surrounded by my friends' unwavering support, the weight on my heart began to lift, replaced by a soothing balm of companionship and understanding."

"They are not just friends; they are family, and at the end of the day, it's all I need.

We walked towards the main gate, the evening sun casting long shadows on the path. Suzie and Sherwin teased each other, their laughter echoing like a melody.

'Why don't we skip school tomorrow and spend the day at my place?' Craig suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Wow, that's a great idea!' Suzie exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement.

Ron, however, looked disappointed; he had plans with his boyfriend. As for me, I wanted to let go of Brandon's lingering presence in my thoughts, so I agreed.

In that moment, surrounded by my chosen family, I felt a sense of belonging that transcended the day's worries."

The prospect of a carefree day with them painted a vivid canvas of camaraderie and solace in my mind.

As I arrived home, the weight of the day's revelations pressed upon me. Seeking solace, I stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over me, washing away the remnants of confusion. In that steamy sanctuary, clarity emerged: my friends were right. I shouldn't entangle myself in something destined to shatter my heart. Resolutely, I vowed to cherish the moments with my friends, immerse myself in my studies, and leave the past's burdens behind.

He engaged with me, drawn perhaps by my nature, and I misconstrued his intentions. Little does he know that I fell in love before our eyes ever met. Little does he know how I yearned for him before his presence graced my life. In him, I discovered a home for my heart, yet I wished that one day he might find his home in me.

During dinner, I couldn't resist sneaking my fork into Adu's plate, hunting for any remaining mushrooms—my absolute favorite.

"Yaaa, you little monster! Eat from your own plate," Adu protested, swatting my hand away.

"Nah, I want to eat from yours," I teased, grinning mischievously.

We both laughed and playfully fought over the tiniest mushroom, our sibling rivalry turning the meal into a cherished memory.

Leaning closer, I whispered into Adu's ear, "Tomorrow, I'm bunking school."

Adu nearly choked on his food. "What? Are you nuts or something? Planning to get into trouble?"

I shrugged, a rebellious spark in my eyes.

"Skipping school can have serious consequences, you know," Adu warned, his tone shifting to concern.

I sighed, knowing he was right.

Our playful banter over mushrooms had taken a serious turn, reminding me of the fine line between harmless fun and real-life repercussions.

"Well... I need a break, Adu. So, can you cover for me with Mom and Dad?" I pleaded, hoping he'd understand.

He smirked, giving me a playful shove. "Am I your personal shield or something?"

"Pretty please?" I batted my eyelashes dramatically.

With a chuckle, he ruffled my hair. "Fine, but you owe me one."

Grinning, I pulled out my phone and, in a fit of mock revenge, deleted his contact. "There, now you're erased from my life."

He rolled his eyes. "As if that could ever happen."

Our laughter filled the room, the earlier tension melting away.

The next day dawned with an unusual serenity. I awoke an hour earlier than usual, the soft hues of sunrise painting my room in a gentle glow. It felt like a scene from a movie, but this was my reality.

Eager to seize the day, I took a refreshing shower and donned my favorite outfit. With quiet steps, I slipped out of the house before anyone else stirred. My destination: Craig's place.

Upon arrival, I rang the doorbell, and Craig greeted me with a warm smile. Living with his grandmother, Craig enjoyed a life free from the usual parental restrictions—a freedom I envied.

"Morning, Izzy," he said, ushering me in. "Fancy some breakfast?"

"You cook?" I asked, surprised.

He chuckled. "Expect the unexpected."

Soon, we were savoring hot coffee and delicious chicken sandwiches. As we ate, Craig's expression turned curious.

"So, what's the deal with that new guy?" he inquired.

I sighed, stirring my coffee. "I've erased him completely. I know it's something that won't last."

"So, you gave up, Izzy?"

I paused, contemplating. "Yes, I gave up," I admitted, though my heart whispered otherwise.

You know, Izzy, we teenagers live very complicated lives, and our emotions can feel more burdensome than those of adults," Craig said, his voice gentle.

His words pierced the fragile barrier I'd built around my feelings. I couldn't hold back any longer; tears streamed down my face. Craig immediately wrapped me in a comforting hug, his hand softly wiping away my tears.

"My heart feels so heavy," I confessed between sobs. "I've fallen in love with someone who can never be mine. I've tried to forget him, but it only gets harder. It hurts so much to see him with someone else."

Craig listened intently, his brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, he suggested, "Why don't you focus on finishing your 12th grade? Give yourself time to mature. If your feelings are still strong after that, you can approach him then. Who knows? Things might change by then."

His advice made sense, but my emotions were a Tangled mess. 

I was so immersed in my own struggles that I hadn't fully grasped the depth of Craig's pain. Losing both his parents in a car accident was an unimaginable tragedy, one that had shattered his world.

"Are you okay, Craig?" I asked softly, searching his eyes for a glimpse of his true feelings.

He met my gaze, and for a moment, the mask of resilience he wore seemed to falter. "It's been a while since we talked about... life," I continued, hoping to encourage him to open up.

Without a word, Craig stepped closer and enveloped me in a tight hug. I could feel the weight of his sorrow in the way he clung to me. "I miss my parents," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I feel so lonely... left out when I see the happiness you share with your family. I have no one except my grandmother, and she's... well, she's not going to be around forever."

My heart ached for him. "Craig, you don't have to pretend to be happy around me. You can just be yourself."

He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes. "It's hard, Izzy. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in this emptiness."

I squeezed his hand. "You're not alone. I'm your family too, and you're mine. We'll get through this together."

A small, grateful smile tugged at his lips. "Thank you."

To lighten the mood, I suggested we play GTA on his PlayStation. For a while, we immersed ourselves in the game, the familiar virtual world providing a temporary escape from our realities.

As Craig and I reminisced about our childhood, we couldn't help but laugh.

"Remember, Izzy, when we were in grade 3? We used to give Ron such a hard time," Craig chuckled.

"Oh yeah, those were the days!" I replied, grinning.

Immersed in our GTA session, Craig suddenly shouted, "Look right and move, Izzy! The police are on our tail!"

"I just want to smack the hell out of everyone!" I exclaimed, and we both burst into laughter.

The atmosphere was light and carefree, a stark contrast to the emotional weight we'd been carrying.

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Brandon: "Where are you?"

. I hesitated for a moment, then decided to reply: "Hey, I'm at Craig's place. Needed a break. What's up?"

 Iwaited for his response . 

Craig nudged me, pulling me back into the game. "Come on, Izzy! Let's lose these cops and finish this mission!"

I smiled, picking up the controller. "Let's do it!"

And for a while, we let the virtual world distract us from our real-world problems.

A new message popped up on my phone; it was Brandon. "I'm sorry about everything. Do you have some time for me?"

I wanted to say yes, but I had to show I didn't care at all. "No, I'm busy, Brandon. Why don't you spend time with your girlfriend?"

After sending the message, I put my phone aside and focused on the present moment.

As I read Brandon's message, "I'm feeling low and depressed. I don't need my girlfriend; I need you," a surge of conflicting emotions washed over me. Those words felt like heaven, and I wanted to hear them again. I could live another moment now.

I looked at Craig. "Craig, I gotta go. Something urgent has come up."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Izzy?"

"Yes," I nodded, giving him a hug. "Tell everyone I won't be able to join the party session."

Without waiting for his response, I left immediately, my mind racing with thoughts of Brandon.

As I reached Brandon's place, an uneasy sensation settled in my stomach. I clutched my abdomen, the discomfort intensifying.

"What's wrong?" Brandon asked, concern evident in his voice. "Is everything okay, Izzy?"

Hearing him use my nickname, rather than his usual teasing, was unexpected. "I don't know," I replied, wincing. "I'm getting a terrible pain in my stomach."

"Did you eat?" he inquired.

"Yes, I did," I assured him.

Brandon guided me to sit down, his earlier messages momentarily forgotten. "Let's get you comfortable," he said gently. "If it doesn't get better soon, we should consider seeing a doctor."

Brandon guided me to the bed-cum-sofa, his concern evident. As I walked ahead, he noticed a bloodstain on the back of my pants.

"Izzy, you've got your period, huh?" he asked gently.

Embarrassed, I nodded.

"It's okay, I understand," he reassured me, his calm demeanor easing my discomfort. Handing me some of his clothes, he continued, "Use the washroom to freshen up and change. I'll go buy you some pads. 

His words were so formal, yet they made me feel oddly awkward. I guess this is how adults are—straightforward and unbothered—while I sit here, flustered over something that shouldn't even be a big deal. But it is a big deal, at least to me. My mom always said that boys shouldn’t know about these things, that it’s not their place. And yet, here he is, effortlessly stepping into that space, doing for me what my father does for my mother—without hesitation, without discomfort. It should feel normal. But all I can feel is the warmth of embarrassment creeping up my neck.

I slipped into his T-shirt, the soft fabric carrying the warmth of his scent—clean, familiar, comforting. His boxer pants hung loosely around my waist, making me feel small in the most unexpected way. Just as I finished changing, he appeared before me, holding out the pack of pads.

"Go put it on," he said, his tone shifting—firmer, almost commanding.

I hesitated, swallowing the lump of awkwardness in my throat. Umm… thank you, I mumbled, the embarrassment settling in my cheeks.

"If you need anything else, just let me know," he added, his voice softer now.

I shook my head quickly. "No, Brandon. This is fine."

But was it? Because my heart was racing, and I wasn’t sure why.

I couldn't stop thinking about Craig. I had left him alone.

Guilt gnawed at me as I reached for my phone beside me and dialed his number.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, my voice quieter than usual.

"Yeah, Izzy, I’m good," he replied. But then his tone shifted. "Btw, are you okay? You don’t sound so good."

I sighed, mumbling more to myself than to him, Well, no... I’m not good. How could I be? I was here, with a man so composed, so mature, and I had no idea how to react, how to communicate. Everything felt... different.

"Izzy, Suzie called me. So did Sherwin and Ron. They’ll all be here soon. It’s just... you’re not with us," Craig said, his voice carrying a weight I didn’t want to unpack.

As I spoke to him, I couldn’t ignore Brandon. He was right there, his body still, his attention seemingly on his phone—but I knew better. His ear was tuned in, listening. Yet, he played it off effortlessly, as if he wasn’t absorbing every word.

"Hmm." He cleared his throat. "How are you feeling, little kid?" he asked.

"Not again, Brandon," I groaned. "I’m not a kid. I’m a grown girl."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You know what? No matter how big you grow, I’ll always call you a little kid. Got that?"

I rolled my eyes, but before I could argue back, he added, "Now get some rest."

I hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Well… why did you call me here?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he locked eyes with me from across the room, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he walked over and sat beside me, his fingers gently threading through my hair.

"I’m lonely, Izzy," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Shattered and broken."

Something in his tone sent a shiver down my spine. I sat up, my hands instinctively reaching for his face, cupping it gently. "What’s wrong?" I whispered, searching his eyes for answers.

And then, just like that, he broke. His arms wrapped around me, holding on as if I were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

I hugged him tighter, as if holding him close could stop time itself. I wanted to freeze this moment, to stretch it into eternity, to stay right here, wrapped in his warmth. I felt his breathing slow, his body relaxing just a little, and I waited—waited for him to settle, to gather the words he was struggling to say.

"Now tell me… what’s wrong?" I whispered.

He exhaled deeply, then smiled faintly. "So, my little kid is mature," he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "You handled me well today."

I didn’t know how to respond. But inside, I knew—I wanted to be mature for him. I wanted to be the woman he could come to, someone who could hold his heart, love him endlessly.

He reached for my hand, gripping it tightly. "I’ll be leaving tomorrow," he said.

My chest tightened. "So fast?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, it’s an emergency. I have to go."

I could see it in his eyes—the weight he was carrying, the burden of something he wasn’t saying. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to understand. "When will you be back?"

He hesitated. "Maybe… after five years."

Five years. The words hit me like a tidal wave. "So long?"

"Yeah…" He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Now be a good girl and concentrate on your studies."

My heart stopped.

I froze.

So this was it. The end of something that had only just begun.

I pulled away slightly, searching his face for something—anything—that would tell me he was joking, that he’d come back sooner, that this wasn’t goodbye. But there was nothing. Just a quiet acceptance in his eyes, like he had already made peace with it.

"Brandon…" My voice cracked, my throat tightening.

He cupped my face gently, his thumb tracing slow circles on my cheek. "Izzy, listen to me. Life moves forward. We can’t hold on to moments forever, no matter how much we want to. But that doesn’t mean they don’t matter."

Tears burned at the back of my eyes. "But… five years?"

He nodded. "You’ll be alright. You’re stronger than you think."

I wanted to protest, to tell him I wasn’t ready for this kind of goodbye. But instead, I did something I never thought I would. I leaned in, pressing my forehead against his, closing my eyes, memorizing his scent, the way his hand felt against mine, the warmth of his presence.

"If I ever need you… will you come back?" I whispered.

Brandon pulled away just enough to look at me, his expression unreadable. Then, with a small, sad smile, he whispered, "Always."

And just like that, I knew.

This wasn’t just an end.

It was the beginning of a long, painful wait.

Chapter 4: The Silence Between Us

The morning came too soon.

I woke up to the sound of suitcases being dragged across the floor, the rustling of clothes being packed, and the hushed voices of people moving about the house. The air felt heavy—too heavy—like the weight of an unspoken goodbye was pressing down on my chest.

Brandon was leaving.

I sat up, my body stiff from the restless night. The space beside me on the bed was cold. He must have been up for hours.

For a few seconds, I just sat there, staring at the door, willing myself to move. To go to him. To say something. Anything.

But what was there left to say?

With a deep breath, I pushed off the blanket and made my way to the living room.

There he was. Standing near the doorway, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and jeans, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His face was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a quiet sadness, like he was already somewhere else.

He turned slightly when he noticed me. "Morning, little kid."

I clenched my fists. "Brandon, stop calling me that."

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Force of habit."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked up to him. "So, this is it?"

"Yeah," he said simply.

"You're really leaving?" My voice cracked, betraying the emotions I had tried so hard to suppress.

Brandon sighed and reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You’ll be okay, Izzy."

I shook my head. "No, I won’t."

He smiled, but it was bittersweet. "Yes, you will. Because you have to be."

I hated how calm he was. How he could just say those words like it was nothing, like it didn’t hurt him too. "Why does it have to be five years? Why not a year? Or six months?"

He looked down, his jaw tightening. "Some things... take time."

"That’s not an answer."

Brandon exhaled sharply and placed both hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "Izzy, listen to me. Life isn’t fair. It never is. But that doesn’t mean you stop moving forward. You have so much ahead of you—don’t waste it waiting for something that may never happen."

My stomach twisted. "Something that may never happen?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, his grip on me tightening for just a second. "I just mean… don’t hold on to me like I’m the only thing that matters. You have your whole life ahead of you."

I wanted to scream. To shake him and make him understand that he was the only thing that mattered.

Instead, I just nodded, biting down on my trembling lip. "Fine."

Brandon sighed and pulled me into a tight hug. I clung to him, memorizing the feeling of his arms around me, the way he smelled, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You take care, okay?" he murmured against my hair.

I nodded, unable to speak.

And then, just like that, he let go.

The door opened. A gust of cold morning air rushed in. He took a step back, then another. And with one last glance at me, he turned and walked away.

I stood frozen in the doorway, watching as he disappeared down the street, his figure growing smaller with every step.

And then he was gone.

The silence in the house felt unbearable. I backed away from the door, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

Five years.

Five years of waiting.

Five years of silence.

And the worst part?

I had no idea if he’d ever come back at all.

I sank to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest as tears finally spilled down my cheeks. The house that once felt warm now felt empty—just like my heart.

As the hours passed, I picked up my journal, letting my emotions spill onto the pages in ink, my soul screaming in silent words only he would understand.

"You left, but the air still carries your name,

Like an echo in the wind, soft yet untamed.

Every corner of this house whispers you,

Every shadow, every light, every sky painted blue.

You said I’ll be fine, but you don’t understand,

How does a heart beat without its other hand?

I was a child, but you made me strong,

Now I stand, waiting, though five years feels so long.

Will you return, or will time erase?

The laughter we shared, the warmth in this space?

If I close my eyes, will I still see?

The boy who once meant th world to me?

Maybe one day, when the seasons have turned,

When stars realign and the past has been burned,

I’ll see you again, not in pain but in light,

Two souls finding their way, even lost in the night.

Tears blurred the ink, smudging the last line as I closed the journal.

I whispered his name one last time into the silent room.

"Goodbye, Brandon."

Chapter 5: The Space Between Us

Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months. The house no longer smelled like him, his voice no longer echoed in my ears, and yet, every time I closed my eyes, Brandon was there—his smirk, his laugh, the warmth of his arms.

I kept telling myself I’d get used to it. That time would do its job. That the ache in my chest would settle into something manageable.

It didn’t.

Craig and the others tried to cheer me up. They dragged me out to parties, late-night drives, even the beach—anywhere but home. I played along, plastered a smile on my face, laughed when I was supposed to.

But when the night came, and I was alone in my room, the silence pressed down on me, and I felt his absence like a ghost wrapped around my ribs.

One evening, as the sun dipped behind the horizon, Craig called me.

"You still sound like shit," he said bluntly.

I chuckled dryly. "Thanks, Craig. That’s exactly what I needed to hear."

"You know what I mean, Izzy. You’re not... you anymore. It’s been months, and you’re still stuck in the same place."

I looked around my room. Same bed. Same desk. Same notebook filled with words Brandon would never read.

"I don’t know how to move on," I admitted.

Craig sighed. "You don’t have to move on, Izzy. But you do have to move forward."

I frowned. "Aren’t those the same thing?"

"No. Moving on means forgetting. Moving forward means carrying what you lost but still choosing to live."

I stayed silent, letting his words sink in.

"Brandon wouldn’t want you like this," Craig added softly.

I swallowed hard. I knew he was right.

Maybe it was time.

Maybe it was time to live—not just exist in the spaces Brandon left behind.

The next day, I walked into school, feeling like a stranger in my own world. Everything was the same, yet I felt like I had changed too much to belong.

Suzie and Ron were waiting for me at the gate, their faces serious.

"You heard the news?" Suzie asked, linking her arm with mine.

I shook my head. "What news?"

Ron exhaled. "Miss Nandini is leaving."

I blinked. "Wait… what? Why?"

"She’s moving to another city. Better job, better pay," Suzie said, looking down. "She didn’t even tell us until today. Can you believe that?"

Miss Nandini had been more than a teacher to us. She was the one who always looked out for me, the one who noticed when I was struggling, who gave me silent nods of encouragement during the hardest days.

I had already lost Brandon. Now her too?

"It feels like everyone’s leaving," I murmured.

Suzie squeezed my hand. "Not us. We’re still here, Izzy."

Ron slung an arm around my shoulder. "And we’re gonna make sure you don’t have time to be sad anymore. We’re done with that phase, okay?"

I let out a small laugh. "What do you mean?"

"You’ll see," Suzie said with a mischievous grin.

That day at school, they didn’t let me sulk. They dragged me into everything—random class pranks, silly notes passed under the desks, making fun of Mr Daniel's tie. 

For the first time in months, I laughed.

And it felt real.

A Letter I’ll Never Send

Brandon,

You told me to take care of myself. I’m trying. Some days I do better than others. Some days I still reach for my phone, wanting to call you, only to remember you’re not on the other side anymore.

I wonder where you are. If you think of me at all. If the world feels as empty to you as it does to me.

You once told me life isn’t fair. But you never warned me it would feel like this.

If I could have one more moment with you, I wouldn’t ask for a promise to return. I wouldn’t beg you to stay.

I’d just tell you I’ll wait. Not forever. But for now.

Because I don’t know how to stop loving you.

Come back someday, okay?

Even if I don’t say it out loud… I’ll always be waiting.

- Izzy

I folded the letter carefully, tucking it into the pages of my journal.

And for the first time in months, I stepped outside—not to chase memories, but to make new ones.

My friends never left my side. Craig made sure I ate properly, Suzie constantly found reasons to drag me out of my room, and Ron made the silliest jokes to keep me laughing.

One afternoon, we sat in the school cafeteria, laughing over Suzie’s latest obsession with a new TV show when she suddenly said, “Izzy, we should do something crazy.”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Crazy like what?

Because the last time you said that, we almost got suspended.”

Suzie grinned. “Relax, this is different. Let’s go on a trip.”

“A trip?” I asked, curious.

“Yes! Something spontaneous. Just us, somewhere new. No school, no stress, no sad thoughts. Just fun.”

I hesitated. A part of me still felt stuck in my grief. But then I saw the way my friends were looking at me—hopeful, excited, determined to pull me back into life.

Maybe this was exactly what I needed.

I took a deep breath and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

And just like that, the first chapter of my new beginning had begun.

But somewhere deep down, I was still concerned about him. How he might be surviving, if he was eating well, if he ever thought of me in the quiet hours of the night. Ever since he left, I only pictured our last hug—the warmth of his arms, the way he held me like he didn’t want to let go. And now, this space between us feels like my world has come to an end.

I wondered if he ever missed me the way I missed him, or if it was only me, stuck in the past, clutching memories like they were the only thing keeping me breathing. No calls, no texts—just silence stretching endlessly between us. A silence that felt heavier than words ever could.

But despite the ache, despite the empty spaces he left behind, my friends gave me a reason to wake up.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, yet the ache of his absence never truly faded. But life kept moving, and so did I.

I learned to laugh again, to dream again. Maybe the past would always linger like an unfinished melody, but the present was mine to embrace.

"Between the echoes of your silence,

I built a world that no longer waits."

It was 5 in the evening when Craig’s message lit up my phone.

"Hi, Izzy. Are you free now?"

I hesitated before replying with a big "Yes."

"Let’s meet up at the park."

A part of me longed for company, yet another part resisted. It felt like betrayal—like I was being unfaithful to a ghost. To him. To Brandon.

Before I could silence the war within me, another message popped up.

"Is everything okay?"

My breath hitched. How many times had Brandon asked me the same thing? His voice, his words, his presence—everything came rushing back like waves against a fragile shore. I closed my eyes, but memories refused to fade.

"Some ghosts don’t haunt houses, they haunt hearts."

I missed him. I missed him in the spaces he once filled, in the silences he left behind. Since the day he disappeared, there was no contact. He had changed his number, severed every bridge between us.

And yet... what if he never returns?

Would I still wait?

Yes. A thousand times, yes. Because love never truly leaves—it lingers in shadows, in unsent messages, in places once shared.

With a sigh, I texted Craig.

"Let’s go for a long stroll."

I needed to breathe. To walk. To gather the broken pieces of me and mold them into something resembling peace.

"Even a shattered heart can find rhythm in the footsteps of time."

The evening breeze carried the scent of rain, a quiet whisper against my skin. As I stepped out, the streetlights flickered to life, casting long shadows that stretched like memories I could never outrun.

Craig was already there, waiting by the old oak tree in the park. His hands were in his pockets, his stance casual, but his eyes held something deeper—concern, perhaps, or understanding.

“You okay?” he asked the moment I reached him.

I gave him a small smile, one that barely touched the hollow space inside me.

“I don’t know.”

And that was the truth.

"Some wounds don’t bleed, but they never heal either."

We started walking, side by side, in comfortable silence. The world around us was alive—children laughing, leaves rustling, distant echoes of a street musician playing a melancholy tune. But inside me, it was still. Empty.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Craig said, his voice soft.

I shrugged. “Just... life.”

He didn’t press, and I was grateful for that.

Brandon’s absence had settled into my bones, a weight I had learned to carry. There were days I thought I was moving on, that I could breathe without feeling like my lungs were full of dust. But then something—an old song, a familiar phrase, the scent of his cologne in a crowd—would pull me under again.

"How cruel is time, to move forward when my heart still lingers in the past?"

We reached the edge of the park, where the road split into two paths—one leading home, the other deeper into the unknown.

I stopped. Craig turned to me, waiting.

“Can we just keep walking?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I wondered if he could see the wreckage inside me.

Then he nodded. “As long as you need.”

And so we walked, into the night, into the hush of unspoken words, into the space where healing and heartbreak danced in quiet war.

"Maybe I wasn’t looking for love. Maybe I was just looking for a hand to hold while I found my way back to myself."

The night stretched before us like an unwritten poem—full of pauses, lingering thoughts, and verses waiting to be felt.

Craig walked beside me, silent but present. The weight of my thoughts pressed down on my chest, but somehow, his company made it a little easier to carry.

We passed by a dimly lit café, the scent of coffee curling through the air like an old memory. A couple sat by the window, their hands entwined, lost in their own little universe. I once had that. The thought slipped in, uninvited, like a ghost pressing its cold fingers against my heart.

I exhaled, trying to shake off the ache.

“Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in a story that’s already ended?” I murmured, not really expecting an answer.

Craig glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. But sometimes, you have to turn the page, even if you’re not ready.”

"But what if I keep reading the same chapter, hoping the ending will change?"

I didn’t say it out loud, but Craig must have sensed it. He nudged me lightly with his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get something to drink.”

We slipped inside the café, the warm glow of the lights a contrast to the chill outside. The place was nearly empty, save for the couple and an old man nursing a cup of tea, lost in a book. I wondered if he, too, was reading a story he wished had a different ending.

Craig ordered two cappuccinos without asking what I wanted. He remembered. I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back the sudden wave of emotions.

When we sat down, I wrapped my fingers around the warm cup, letting the heat seep into my skin. Craig stirred his coffee absentmindedly before speaking.

“You don’t have to talk about it, but I know you still miss him.”

I looked up, meeting his gaze. There was no pity in his eyes, only quiet understanding.

“Missing him is the easy part,” I whispered. “It’s the waiting that kills me.”

Craig was silent for a moment, then leaned forward, his voice steady. “What if you stop waiting?”

I blinked, his words sinking in like stones dropped into deep water. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... what if instead of waiting for him to come back, you start walking toward something else?” His voice was careful, as if he knew how fragile my heart had become. “Not someone else. Just... something new. Something that’s yours.”

"But what if he does come back?"

The unspoken question sat between us, heavy and uncertain.

Craig took a sip of his coffee and exhaled. “Then at least he’ll find you living, not waiting.”

And maybe, just maybe, that was the only answer I needed.

I turned Craig’s words over in my mind, letting them settle into the cracks of my heart. Was that what I had been doing all this time? Just waiting? Letting life pass me by while I held onto a love that had already walked away?

I ran my finger along the rim of my cup, watching the way the light reflected in the coffee. “And if I don’t know how to live without waiting?”

Craig leaned back in his chair, studying me for a moment before speaking. “Then start with small things. Breathe. Walk. Laugh at something stupid. Order dessert even when you’re full. Just… exist in the moment instead of in memories.”

I exhaled softly, a mix of relief and sadness tangling in my chest. "You make it sound easy."

"It’s not," he admitted. "But it’s better than drowning in what-ifs."

I let my gaze drift to the window, where the rain had started to drizzle, painting the streets in silver and shadow. People hurried past, lost in their own worlds, moving forward without hesitation. I envied them—their certainty, their ease.

"Maybe healing isn’t about forgetting. Maybe it’s about learning to carry the pain without letting it stop you."

Craig’s voice pulled me back. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

I hesitated but then nodded. Maybe walking into the night, into the unknown, was exactly what I needed.

Outside, the rain had softened to a mist, cool against my skin. Craig walked beside me, his hands tucked into his pockets, matching my pace. It felt strangely comforting—this quiet, this presence.

After a few minutes, he spoke again. “You ever think about what you’d be doing right now if things had been different?”

I swallowed hard. “All the time.”

If things had been different, Brandon would still be here. We’d still be tangled in late-night conversations, still making plans for a future that now felt like a dream I had woken up from too soon.

But the reality was colder, sharper.

Some love stories don’t end in goodbyes. They end in silence, in unanswered questions, in roads that no longer lead back home."

Craig must have sensed my thoughts because he nudged me lightly. “Then maybe it’s time to start thinking about what you could be doing instead.”

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “And what do you suggest?”

He smirked. “I don’t know. Start something new. Take a random trip. Learn to paint. Adopt a stray cat. Just… stop living in rewind.”

I looked up at the night sky, the clouds shifting, making way for the faint glow of the moon.

Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time.

I didn’t know if I was ready to let go, but for the first time in a long time, I wanted to try.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.

The silence between us was comforting, like an old melody playing softly in the background. The rain had stopped, leaving the streets damp and glistening under the dim glow of streetlights. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of wet earth and something unspoken that lingered in the air—hope, maybe. Or just the quiet acceptance of change.

Craig walked beside me, his presence steady and familiar. I had never really noticed how much space he took up in my life—not in a loud, demanding way, but in the way shadows stretch when the sun is low. Always there, just at the edge of my vision.

If I take your advice and start something new," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "where do I even begin?"

Craig smiled, a small, knowing smile. "You start by deciding to live for yourself, Izzy. Not for the past. Not for what could’ve been."

"But how do you let go of something that still feels like home?"

The question pressed against my ribs, but I didn’t say it out loud. Instead, I let my feet lead the way, past familiar streets, past the bookstore Brandon and I used to visit, past the little café where he once traced poetry into my palm with his fingertips. I felt the memories tugging at me, pulling me backward, but this time, I didn’t stop walking.

"Do you still love him?" Craig’s voice was soft, almost careful.

I closed my eyes for a moment, as if that would somehow make the answer easier. "I don’t know. I think a part of me always will."

Craig nodded, as if he understood something even I couldn’t put into words. "Loving someone doesn’t mean you have to wait for them."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "And if he comes back?"

Craig looked at me then, really looked at me. "Then he’ll find you happy. And if he really loves you, that’ll be enough."

I exhaled, long and slow, feeling something shift inside me. Maybe it wasn’t about choosing between holding on and letting go. Maybe it was about making room for something more.

For the first time in a long time, the weight of waiting felt a little lighter.

"Okay," I whispered. "Let’s keep walking."

And so we did—through the quiet streets, through the spaces between what was and what could be.

Maybe this was how it started. Not with forgetting, but with learning to move forward even with a heart that still remembered.

Chapter 6: Echoes of the Past

The next morning, the world felt different—not drastically, but in a subtle way, like the air after a storm. The weight on my chest hadn’t vanished, but it had shifted, settled in a way that no longer suffocated me.

I stood by my window, watching the city come to life. The streets below bustled with movement—cars honking, shopkeepers setting up their stalls, children laughing on their way to school. Life went on, whether I was ready or not.

I wasn’t sure if I was.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Craig: Did you sleep?

I smiled slightly. He knew me too well.

Me: Not really. But I’m up.

His reply came almost instantly.

Craig: Good. Get dressed. I’m taking you somewhere.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the screen. The old me would’ve declined, wrapped herself in her grief and let the day slip away unnoticed. But last night’s conversation lingered in my mind.

Maybe you start by deciding to live for yourself."

Maybe it was time.

Me: Where?

Craig: Just trust me. 30 minutes. No excuses.

I sighed, shaking my head with a small laugh. He was impossible.

But maybe that was exactly what I needed.

Forty-five minutes later, we were on the road, the city fading behind us as Craig drove towards the outskirts. The wind rushed through the open windows, tangling in my hair as I leaned back against the seat, letting myself exist in the moment.

Then it hit me.

I turned to Craig, narrowing my eyes. "Wait a minute—how do you even know how to drive? Last I checked, your scooty was taken by your brother, and you never mentioned learning to drive a car."

Craig smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. "People grow, Izzy. Unlike some, I don’t just sit around waiting for things to happen."

I scoffed. "Wow, okay. I see how it is."

He chuckled but didn’t say anything else, just tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio.

My phone buzzed on my lap.

Suzie.

Before I could pick it up, Craig reached over and pressed the power button, silencing the call.

I frowned. "What the hell, Craig?"

"Don’t answer it." His voice was firm.

He sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Because you always pick up, Izzy. No matter how exhausted you are, no matter how much you need a break, you always put everyone else first."

I blinked, caught off guard. "That’s not true."

Craig shot me a sideways glance. "Really? Then tell me, when was the last time you did something just for yourself?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came.

The silence stretched between us, filled only by the soft hum of the radio and the wind rushing past.

I looked down at my phone, Suzie’s name still lingering on the screen. She’d probably call again, maybe even text. She always checked up on me, and I knew she meant well. But Craig was right—I never let myself just be. There was always someone to comfort, someone to reassure, someone else’s needs to tend to.

But what about mine?

I sighed and tossed my phone into the glove compartment. "Fine. No calls."

Craig smiled, satisfied. "Good. Now enjoy the ride."

We left the noise of the city behind, the roads growing quieter as we drove deeper into the outskirts. Fields stretched on both sides, golden under the late morning sun. The air smelled fresh, untouched by the pollution and chaos of everyday life.

It felt... strange.

Like stepping into a world where time slowed down.

"Where are we going, Craig?" I asked, watching the trees blur past.

"You’ll see," he said with a grin, but then his expression softened. "I just thought you could use a place where you don’t have to think so much."

I didn’t respond. Not because I disagreed, but because, deep down, I knew he was right.

I turned my gaze to the horizon, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky.

"We were still teenagers… but somewhere along the way, Craig grew up, and I was still just trying to breathe."

Somewhere between the sleepless nights and the silent battles, he had learned to move forward. And I?

I was still waiting.

For what, I didn’t know.

But maybe, just maybe, it was time to find out.

The car slowed as Craig turned onto a narrow dirt road, the tires crunching softly against the gravel. The world around us grew even quieter, the hum of the city left miles behind. My fingers drummed absently against my knee as I watched the trees arch overhead, their leaves whispering secrets in the afternoon breeze.

"Craig, seriously, where are we going?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let out a small breath, as if steadying himself, before finally saying, "Somewhere we used to go. Before everything changed."

I frowned, searching my memories. Then it hit me.

"The lake?"

He nodded, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

I hadn’t been there in years. Not since Brandon left.

A part of me clenched at the thought, my chest tightening the way it always did when his name surfaced.

"Even in these empty spaces, my heart still craves him."

I turned to Craig. "Why now?"

He shrugged. "Because you need it."

I stared at him, half annoyed, half touched. "I don’t remember asking for therapy."

Craig smirked. "You didn’t. That’s why I’m forcing you into it."

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue.

Minutes later, he pulled up near the clearing, cutting the engine. The silence that followed was almost deafening. No honking cars, no ringing phones. Just the rustling of leaves and the distant sound of water lapping against the shore.

I stepped out, the ground soft beneath my sneakers. The lake stretched before us, shimmering under the golden sunlight, just as I remembered. But something about it felt different—smaller, maybe. Or maybe I had just grown too much for it to feel the same.

I took a slow breath.

The last time I stood here, I was with Brandon.

His laughter had filled this very air, his hand warm around mine as he spun me around in circles, both of us dizzy from something that had nothing to do with movement.

"I’ll always come back to you, Izzy," he had whispered back then.

But he never did.

And I had spent years wondering if he ever would.

Craig’s voice pulled me back.

"You know," he said, stepping beside me, "you don’t have to keep waiting for someone who walked away."

I swallowed, my eyes fixed on the rippling water. "I know."

"Do you?"

I hesitated. "I don’t know."

Craig sighed but didn’t push further. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out something small, tossing it my way.

I caught it instinctively. A tiny, smooth stone.

"Make a wish," he said.

I glanced at him. "What?"

"Like we used to do. Remember?"

I did. We’d throw stones into the lake and make wishes, pretending the water could carry them into the universe.

It was foolish. Childish.

But maybe, just maybe, I needed a little foolishness right now.

I closed my eyes, feeling the cool weight of the stone against my palm.

"I wish I could stop waiting."

And then, without another thought, I let it go.

Chapter 7: Letting Go

The stone left my fingers, cutting through the stillness before disappearing beneath the lake’s surface with a soft plop. Ripples spread outward, breaking the reflection of the sky above.

I exhaled, as if I had released something more than just a stone.

Craig watched me closely, but for once, he said nothing. Maybe he knew there were no words that could fix what I felt. Or maybe he understood that sometimes, silence did a better job than words ever could.

I hugged my arms around myself, suddenly aware of the late afternoon chill creeping in. "Do you think wishes actually work?"

Craig leaned against the hood of his car, kicking at the dirt with the heel of his boot. "Depends on the wish."

I turned to him, waiting.

He sighed. "If you're wishing for something that's never coming back, then no. But if you're wishing to finally move on… maybe."

My fingers clenched around the fabric of my sleeves. "I don’t know if I want to move on."

Craig gave me a knowing look. "I think you do. I think you just don’t know how."

I hated how easily he saw through me.

I dropped my gaze to the ground, scuffing the dirt with my shoe. "It’s just… I don’t understand why he left. No goodbye. No explanation. Just—gone."

Craig was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "You know, Izzy… sometimes people leave not because they want to hurt us, but because they don’t know how to stay."

Something in me ached at his words.

I wanted to argue, to say Brandon did know how to stay. He had promised. And yet… promises were only as strong as the people who made them.

And Brandon had been too weak to keep his.

Craig stretched his arms behind his head, staring up at the sky. "Maybe instead of asking why he left, you should ask why you’re still waiting."

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

Because the truth was—I didn’t know.

Was I waiting for an apology? For closure? For some sign that Brandon regretted leaving me behind?

Or was I just afraid of what came after the waiting?

What if moving on meant losing him completely?

I turned back to the lake, watching the ripples finally fade.

A sudden thought hit me. "Do you think he ever thinks about me?"

Craig didn’t answer right away. Then, softly, "Maybe. But does it matter?"

I stared at the water, my heart twisting.

Maybe it did.

Maybe it didn’t.

But standing here, with the wind in my hair and the weight in my chest just a little lighter, I realized—It was time to find out.