~Karla's Pov~
By the time I reach the apartment, the city noise has faded into something distant and muffled.
I unlock the door and step into silence.
The kind that greets you like a memory. Heavy. Still.
Tessa's not back yet.
Her absence lingers in the air no music, no half-empty cereal bowls, no commentary on people's questionable outfits from her spot on the couch.
Just… quiet.
I drop my bag by the door and kick off my shoes with a groan.
I'm not even sure what I'm hungry for. I stare at the fridge like it might offer a suggestion, but all it gives me is the same half-used sauces and leftover coffee from two days ago.
Fine.
Noodles it is.
I toss a packet in the pot, mindlessly watching the water boil while I scroll through emails I don't want to answer. The kitchen light flickers once, then steadies. I clean the counter while I wait just to have something to do.
After eating, I rinse the bowl, wipe down the stove, and check the locks twice before finally heading to my room.
The second my head hits the pillow, I feel the weight of the day catch up to me all at once. My bones ache in that specific way that only exhaustion and unspoken feelings can cause.
I close my eyes.
Buzz.
My phone vibrates against the nightstand.
I groan softly and reach over, squinting at the screen.
TESSA: (3 messages)
10:46 PM
Hey babe, I'm still alive
10:47 PM
miss u a little, not gonna lie.
10:48 PM
Remind me to tell you what happened today. CRAZY
I blink, rereading the last message twice.
A part of me wants to ignore it and go to sleep. But another part—the part that's missed her noise and energy feels a smile tug at my lips.
I sit up a little, typing back.
KARLA: You okay?? What happened? Also, the kitchen misses you. It's too clean.
The typing bubbles pop up immediately.
And just like that, the silence shifts.
She's not here, but somehow, I feel less alone.
My screen lights up again.
TESSA:
Okay, SO… Remember the guy from the club? Well, he's not just some guy; he's like… a literal walking red flag. But in a sexy, mysterious, probably-will-break-my-heart kind of way. Anyway, we're at his friend's lake house. No signal earlier, sorry lol. I may or may not be falling in love. Send help.
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. Tessa is always dramatic. Always chasing chaos with a smile on her face.
KARLA:
Falling in love? Tess. You met him like… 48 hours ago.
Do you even know his last name? She types back instantly.
TESSA:
Nope, but his dog's name is Milo and he made me pancakes this morning
So obviously, he's my soulmate
KARLA:
You're impossible. But I'm glad you're okay. And mildly entertained.
TESSA:
I'll give you the full story when I get back
you better not be turning into a boring workaholic without me, Also, I left a chocolate bar in the freezer; it's yours unless I change my mind later.
I smile down at the screen, warmth blooming in my chest. I missed this. Her ridiculous texts. Her weird comfort.
KARLA:
Noted. Tell Milo I said hi. And don't fall too hard, okay?
TESSA:
Too late.
I lock my phone and lean back into the pillows, the faintest grin still tugging at my lips.
The weight of the day is still there, but somehow, it feels easier now.
The Next Morning
I wake up to the alarm blaring and the sun slicing through the blinds like it's mad at me.
It takes me three full minutes to convince myself to get out of bed.
Shower. Teeth. Clothes. High ponytail. Same black heels. Same tired eyes.
The usual.
Except today, there's a new confidence in my step as I grab my laptop and head out the door.
Because maybe things aren't perfect.
Maybe they're far from it.
But I'm still standing. Still working. Still trying.
And that has to count for something.
By the time I get to the office, the familiar buzz of keyboards, footsteps, and distant phone calls surrounds me like a steady drumbeat.
Liam's already there leaning over a design monitor with his sleeves pushed up, eyebrows furrowed in focus. His posture relaxes the second he sees me.
"Hey," he says, straightening up as I walk past his desk.
"Hey," I say back, a soft smile forming before I even mean to.
He steps away from his monitor. "Claudia wants us in on the follow-up creative for Winterwell. You good to tag team on the print assets?"
I nod. "Definitely. I was hoping I'd get looped into the visual side."
We end up working side by side for hours, passing notes, bouncing feedback, and sharing tiny glances that say this is ridiculous, every time someone from senior management drops another vague, unhelpful revision.
He's easy to work with. Chill without being lazy. Sharp, but not competitive.
It's… refreshing.
And kind of dangerous in a way I can't fully explain.
Around 3:00 PM, we both look up from our screens at the same time and laugh quietly. We're surrounded by empty coffee cups and Post-it notes, like we built a fort of stress and sarcasm.
"Are you heading to campus later?" he asks, rolling his neck out.
"Yeah. Psych and media law today. You?"
"Three classes. But two of them overlap with yours," he says, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Wanna head over together?"
My first instinct is to say no to keep my world divided. But something in the way he asks makes me pause.
"Sure," I say. "I'll grab my stuff."
We leave together, weaving through the sidewalk crowds, books and laptops weighing down our bags, but the conversation between us lightening the load.
"So wait," I say as we cross near a row of food trucks, "you're telling me you actually like Media Law?"
He laughs. "Don't judge me, but yeah. There's something about all the messy, outdated rules clashing with modern media it's chaotic. It makes sense."
"That sounds like a contradiction."
"That's college," he smirks.
I shake my head, but I'm smiling again. More than I probably have in days.
By the time we reach campus, we split briefly, each heading to our separate classes. But just before I walk into mine, he calls after me.
"Hey, after class, do we grab real food? You've gotta eat more than vending machine granola bars."
I roll my eyes. "We'll see. Depends on how much homework I hate by then."
He grins. "Fair enough."
And then I disappear into the echo of the lecture hall, the weight of my life tugging one way and something new, something unexpected, pulling gently in the other.