I didn't see Theo for a week.
I told myself that was a good thing.
Life returned to its predictable rhythm—work, home, silence. The safety of routine wrapped around me like armor, familiar and heavy.
But the quiet felt different now.
Louder.
It followed me into the subway, into my apartment, into the spaces where his presence had briefly existed. I caught myself glancing toward familiar corners, half-expecting to see him there.
I hated myself for it.
On Friday evening, the train stalled between stations.
The lights flickered once.
Then twice.
My breath caught.
The hum of the train grew louder, pressing in on me. The air felt suddenly thin, my chest tightening as a memory surfaced uninvited—darkness, voices raised in panic, the sound of metal grinding.
Not again.
I closed my eyes, fingers curling into my coat as I fought to stay grounded. I counted my breaths. One. Two. Three.
Someone touched my arm.
I flinched hard enough that my bag slipped from my shoulder.
"I'm sorry," a familiar voice said quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you."
I opened my eyes.
Theo stood beside me, concern etched across his face.
"I—" My throat closed around the word. "I need some air."
Without a word, he stepped back, clearing a path as the train jerked forward and pulled into the next station.
I stumbled onto the platform, lungs burning, the city rushing back into focus.
Theo followed, stopping a careful distance away.
"Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly.
The question shattered something in me.
Most people assumed. He asked.
"No," I said, surprised by my own voice. "Just… give me a minute."
He nodded and stayed silent, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground like he was guarding my space.
When my breathing finally slowed, I looked at him. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I know," he said gently. "But something did."
I swallowed.
The truth hovered between us, unspoken and heavy.
"I don't like small spaces," I said instead.
It wasn't a lie.
It just wasn't the whole truth.
"That's okay," Theo replied. "We can walk."
We stepped out into the night together, the city wide and open around us.
But even as the cool air filled my lungs, I knew something had changed.
The past had found a crack.
And it wasn't going to stay quiet much longer.