The next morning, Anya stepped out of her house and immediately saw Alaric waiting by the gate, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. The sight of him there made something in her chest loosen, as if the world had quietly shifted back into place. She greeted him with a smile, and for the first time in days, life felt familiar again, steady and warm with his presence beside her.
"Morning," he said, his voice calm and easy, as though he had never been gone.
"Morning," she replied, falling into step beside him as they began walking toward school.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, simply enjoying the rhythm of walking together. Then Alaric glanced at her.
"How were the past two weeks?" he asked. "Did school give you any trouble while I was away?"
Anya shook her head lightly. "It was fine. Classes were the same. A few people asked where you went, though."
"Really?" he said, mildly curious.
She nodded. "Some of the teachers asked, and a few classmates too. They said it felt strange not seeing you around."
He smiled faintly at that, though his attention stayed on the road ahead.
When they reached the school gates, the atmosphere shifted. Alaric's presence drew attention almost immediately. Whispers followed them as they walked through the courtyard.
"He's really good looking," one girl murmured to another.
"Yeah, and he seem more fit. Did he get taller?" someone else whispered.
A few girls glanced openly in his direction, some even daring to wink as he passed. Alaric did not react. His expression remained indifferent, his pace unchanging, as though none of it existed.
By lunchtime, Anya excused herself to the restroom. When she stepped back into the hallway, she slowed, noticing Alaric standing near the windows with a tall, pretty female student. The girl smiled brightly at him, brushing her hair back as she spoke.
"Alaric, I heard you were sick," the girl said. "Are you feeling better now?"
"I'm fine," he replied, his tone polite but distant.
"That's good," she continued, undeterred. "A few of us are going to the arcade this weekend. Do you want to come with me?"
"I'm not free," Alaric said without hesitation.
The girl laughed lightly. "That's okay. I can wait until you are."
He finally looked at her properly, his gaze steady and unmistakably firm. "My free time is for Anya."
Anya's heart skipped when she heard her name. Heat rushed to her face, a mix of surprise and something dangerously close to happiness. At the same time, guilt tugged at her. Part of her wondered if it was selfish to feel pleased.
Before she could overthink it, Alaric spotted her and walked over.
"Let's go eat," he said, his voice softening when he reached her side.
They sat together at their usual table in the cafeteria. For a while, they ate in comfortable silence, until Anya finally spoke.
"Alaric," she said carefully, "have you ever thought about expanding your social circle a bit?"
His movements paused, and though his expression stayed calm, something subtle shifted in his eyes.
"Why would you ask that?" he said.
She hesitated. "Meeting different people could be fun."
He studied her for a moment, then asked evenly, "And what about you? Do you want to meet more people too?"
Anya opened her mouth, then closed it again. She lowered her gaze, unable to answer.
After a moment, Alaric spoke again, his voice quieter but serious. "There's something I need to tell you."
Her fingers tightened around her chopsticks, and she held her breath.
"I've decided to go back to Central City," he continued. "I'll be taking the college entrance exams there, and I plan to stay for university."
The words hit her like cold water, sharp and numbing.
"You're leaving?" she asked softly, barely recognizing her own voice.
He nodded.
Anya stared at her lunch tray, her appetite suddenly gone. She did not know what to say, only that the familiar ache in her chest had returned, heavier than before.
Anya stayed quiet for several seconds, her thoughts tangled and heavy. Alaric noticed the way her shoulders stiffened, the way her gaze stayed fixed on the table instead of meeting his eyes.
"I know this is a lot," he said gently. "That's why I don't want to rush this conversation."
She finally looked up at him. "Then why tell me now?" she asked, her voice soft but strained.
"Because I also don't want to hide things from you," Alaric replied honestly. "You deserve to know what I'm planning. But this isn't something we should talk about here."
Anya glanced around the noisy cafeteria, the clatter of trays and overlapping voices suddenly overwhelming. She nodded slowly.
"So… we'll talk later?" she asked.
"Yes," he said firmly. "After school. Somewhere quiet. I want to hear what you think too, not just tell you my decision."
Her chest tightened at that, but she appreciated the care in his tone.
"Okay," she said at last. "After school."
Alaric relaxed slightly, as if he had been holding his breath. "Until then, don't overthink it," he added, trying to sound light, though his eyes betrayed concern.
Anya gave a small, uncertain smile. "I'll try."
They returned to eating. Even with Alaric sitting right across from her, all she could think about was the conversation waiting for them after the final bell rang.
*****
After school, they walked back to Alaric's house together. The afternoon light stretched long across the pavement, and neither of them spoke much, as if both were saving their words for what waited behind the front door. The moment they stepped inside, the familiar quiet wrapped around them, heavy with things left unsaid.
Anya could not hold it in any longer. She turned to face him, her eyes searching his.
"Why are you leaving?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay calm.
Alaric did not answer right away. Instead, he reached for her hand and held it tightly, as if afraid she might pull away. His palm was warm, steady, grounding her.
"Ten years back, I chose to move here so I could grow up with you," he said softly. "But my home has always been in Central City. There are things I must do there, responsibilities I can't avoid."
He squeezed her hand slightly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a quiet, reassuring motion.
"That's why I asked you what you truly want for your future," he continued. "You have choices, Anya. If you want, you can come with me to Central City. We can stay together and attend university there."
She listened, her heart pounding as he spoke.
"If you decide to stay in Westbridge," he went on, "then I'll arrange my time so I can come back often, and you can visit me too. Or, if you and your mum want a fresh start somewhere else, in another city entirely, I'll support that as well."
He paused, lifting her hand to his chest so she could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingers.
"No matter what you decide, I will respect your choice. I won't force you into anything."
The sincerity in his voice overwhelmed her. Anya felt tears prick at her eyes as she realized how carefully he had thought this through, how far ahead he had planned. He no longer felt like the boy who walked beside her to school. He felt like someone who had already stepped into adulthood.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For telling me all of this. For thinking about me."
She lowered her head, then looked back up at him with a small, earnest smile.
"I think… you're going to be very successful one day," she added. "You've grown so much."
Alaric's expression softened. He lifted his free hand and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering at her temple. The closeness made her breath hitch.
"Take your time," he said. "Talk to your mum. Think about what you really want."
Anya swallowed, then asked the question that had been weighing on her.
"When will you leave Westbridge?"
"In about two months," he answered honestly.
Her chest tightened, but she nodded.
"I'll give you my answer by next month," she said. "I promise."
Alaric pulled her into his arms, holding her close. She rested her forehead against his shoulder.
That night, after dinner, Anya sat with her mother in the small living room. The television was on, but neither of them was watching it. The light was low, the kind that made the room feel quieter than usual.
Margaret noticed the tension in her daughter's shoulders and turned toward her.
"Anya," she said gently, "you've been very quiet tonight. What's on your mind?"
Anya hesitated, then drew a slow breath.
"Alaric told me today that he plans to return to Central City," she said. "He wants to take the college entrance exams there and stay for university."
Margaret's expression softened with understanding rather than surprise. She nodded slowly.
"I see," she said. "That must have been hard for you to hear."
Anya nodded, her fingers twisting together in her lap.
"He gave me choices," she continued. "I can go with him, stay here, or even move somewhere else with you. He said he would respect whatever I decide."
Margaret looked down, her eyes growing distant. After a moment, her voice trembled.
"Anya… I've actually been thinking about leaving this house for a long time," she admitted. "Taking you away from your father. Somewhere safer. Somewhere you wouldn't have to live in fear."
Anya's heart clenched.
"Mum…"
Margaret's eyes filled with tears, and she reached out, gripping Anya's hand tightly.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry I never gave you the happy family you deserved. I stayed too long. I should have protected you better."
Anya shook her head quickly, tears welling up as well.
"You did your best," she said. "I know you did."
Margaret wiped at her cheeks and took a shaky breath.
"Alaric has stayed in Westbridge for you for ten years," she said softly. "Maybe… maybe it's time you did something for him too. Not because you owe him, but because you care."
Anya lowered her gaze.
"That's exactly why I'm scared," she admitted. "I feel like I'm holding him back. Like my life is tangled around his, and he can't move freely because of me."
She swallowed hard before continuing.
"When he was gone for those two weeks, I realized something. I was lonely, but I survived. I learned that I can stand on my own. I shouldn't depend on him for everything."
Her voice shook as she spoke the words she had been avoiding.
"Maybe it's time I let him go and do what he needs to do. Maybe I need to learn how to be independent, even if it hurts."
Margaret studied her daughter quietly for a long moment. Then she spoke, her tone gentle but serious.
"I know you're young," she said. "And I know relationships can be confusing at your age. But tell me something honestly."
She squeezed Anya's hand.
"What is Alaric to you? Is he just someone you're used to having around? Or is he someone you can't imagine losing?"
Anya's breath caught. The room felt suddenly too small.
"And if he really leaves," Margaret continued softly, "are you ready to watch him walk away? Are you prepared to see him build a life that doesn't include you?"
Anya didn't answer right away. She stared at the floor, her chest aching, her thoughts in chaos. In that silence, she realized how heavy the question truly was, and how much her heart already knew the answer she was afraid to say aloud.