Max's POV
I didn't move.
I didn't blink.
I didn't breathe.
His words echoed louder than the chaos in my chest.
"How many times do I have to say the kiss meant nothing? It was just lust."
Lust.
That word… it burned.
I stood frozen, eyes locked on the space he had just walked away from, like if I stared long enough, he'd come back and say he didn't mean it.
But he didn't.
I sat down slowly on the edge of the steps, letting the tears build quietly in my eyes. Not the kind that demanded attention. These were the soft, steady kind—the ones that sting the most because no one notices them falling.
Ren walked past me, her steps quick, her expression unreadable. She didn't look at me. Not even once.
It wasn't just Ram I was losing.
Ren… Kitty… even the me I used to be. Everything felt distant now.
I didn't even know why Ren was upset, but I could sense it—her silence, her eyes that refused to meet mine, her sudden need to walk alone when we always used to walk together. I guess she found out we bunked the class without her. Or maybe she knew more. Maybe I was losing her too.
And Kitty… she stayed silent. She always does when she's hurt.
I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them like they were the only thing left of me.
The kiss wasn't just a kiss to me.
It was a moment where time paused, where I forgot every ounce of pain and doubt. It was the feeling of coming home.
But to him, it was just a mistake. A misstep in the rhythm of our lives.
I buried my face in my knees.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to tell him everything I felt.
But I couldn't even speak his name right now without breaking.
And maybe, just maybe… he didn't deserve to hear it anymore.
And Ren ..
She slammed her water bottle on the desk louder than necessary. That was the first sign.
She hadn't spoken a word to me all morning. No eye contact. No half-smile. Not even a sarcastic side glance when Kitty sneezed five times in a row during attendance.
She was shutting me out.
And I didn't have the strength to fight it.
But it happened—right after lunch break. When the classroom was half-empty and the leftover echo of chatter still lingered in the air, she turned to me, eyes sharp and voice low.
"So… I heard you and Kitty had a nice little bunk trip. Without telling me."
Her voice wasn't angry. It was disappointed. And somehow, that felt worse.
I blinked, unsure how to defend myself. "Ren, it just happened. We didn't plan—"
"No," she cut in, lips trembling slightly, "you did plan it. You planned it and chose not to tell me."
"That's not true—"
"Is it not?" Her voice rose. "You think I don't see it? How I'm slowly becoming the third wheel in a friendship I helped build? You think I don't notice when the glances are shared without me, when the laughs don't include me anymore?"
Her words hit harder than Ram's ever could.
Because Ren was the girl who held my hand on the first day of college, who waited after exams even when her dad yelled for her to come home. She was the constant. My person.
"I never meant to leave you out," I whispered. "It wasn't about excluding you—"
"But you did," she said, softer now. Her eyes welled up. "And the worst part is, I don't know when you stopped needing me."
"I never stopped," I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. "I was just… messed up. Everything's a mess. Ram, the kiss, the silence, Kitty pretending not to notice, and now you—"
"You could've talked to me." Her voice cracked. "You always used to."
I reached for her hand across the bench, and for a second, she didn't pull away.
"I miss you," I said honestly. "I miss us. Please don't think you're not part of this anymore."
She looked at me for a long moment. "Then stop acting like I'm invisible. If we're breaking, tell me. But don't make me guess."
And just like that, the storm between us calmed—not gone, not forgotten, but acknowledged.
Sometimes, the real heartbreak isn't about love. It's about friendship slipping through your fingers when you weren't even looking.