It had been three long, suffocating days since Kayden's confession to his parents. Three days of silence, isolation, and tears. His once lively room had turned into a dark, airless cage. He hadn't stepped outside, not even once.
All he did was curl up on his bed, phone in hand, calling and messaging Thaddeus again and again but there was never a reply. The unread ticks on his messages were like daggers in his chest.
His mother knocked on the door every morning and evening, her voice breaking.
"Kayden, please eat something. Please."
But his answer was always the same. "I'm fine. Leave me alone."
Downstairs, his father would just shake his head, muttering to his wife, "He'll be fine. He'll get over him soon."
But Kayden's mother wasn't convinced. Every time she caught a glimpse of him, his eyes were red and swollen, his face pale. Her son wasn't getting over anything, he was breaking.
