The first thing I notice is the silence.
Not the kind that feels peaceful. Not the kind that settles gently around you like a blanket. This silence is heavy—pressing, suffocating, stretching too far between everything that used to feel familiar.
I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing in particular, my hands resting loosely in my lap. My phone lies beside me, screen dark, but I can feel its weight like it's calling to me.
Or maybe I already know who I'm waiting for.
A soft knock breaks through the quiet.
I don't move at first.
Then—
"Sophie?"
Samuel.
My chest tightens slightly at the sound of his voice. Not painfully. Not sharply. Just… enough.
"I'm coming in," he says gently, like he already knows I won't answer.
The door opens slowly, and I don't look up right away. I hear his footsteps instead—steady, unhurried, familiar. He doesn't rush toward me. He never does. Samuel has always been like that.
Careful. Patient. Present.
The mattress dips slightly as he sits beside me.
Still, I don't speak.
For a moment, neither does he.
And somehow, that makes it worse.
"You've been avoiding everyone," he says quietly.
Not accusing. Just… stating it.
"I'm tired," I reply, my voice coming out softer than I expect.
It's not a lie.
But it's not the truth either.
Samuel lets out a small breath beside me. "You've been saying that for days."
I press my lips together, my fingers curling slightly against the fabric of my skirt.
"I am tired," I repeat.
This time, it sounds weaker.
Because we both know what I mean.
He turns slightly toward me. I can feel it without looking. "Sophie… talk to me."
Something in my chest twists.
Talk to me.
It sounds so simple.
So easy.
But if I start talking, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop.
And if I don't stop…
Everything will fall apart.
"I don't know what to say," I admit finally.
That part is true.
Samuel doesn't respond immediately. He gives me space—just enough that it doesn't feel like pressure, but not so much that I feel alone.
It's something he's always been good at.
After a moment, he asks softly, "Then start with what you're feeling."
Feeling.
The word alone makes my throat tighten.
"I…" I exhale slowly, my gaze dropping to my hands. "I feel like everything is… tangled."
"That's normal."
A humorless laugh slips out of me. "It doesn't feel normal."
"It never does," he says.
I finally turn my head slightly, glancing at him. His expression is calm, steady, but there's something deeper underneath—something he's not saying.
Something he's holding back.
For me.
"I thought things were getting better," I whisper. "With Harley… I thought we were finally—"
I stop.
Because I don't even know how to finish that sentence anymore.
Samuel doesn't push.
He just listens.
So I continue, my voice quieter now.
"And now everything feels worse than before."
The words hang between us.
Heavy.
Real.
Unavoidable.
Samuel's jaw tightens slightly, but his voice stays even. "That's because now it matters more."
My heart stutters.
Because he's right.
Before, it was confusion. Distance. Misunderstanding.
Now…
Now it's something real.
Something that could break everything.
"I don't know what to do," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
It's the first time I've said it out loud.
And somehow, that makes it more terrifying.
Samuel looks at me then—really looks at me. His gaze doesn't waver, doesn't hesitate.
"You don't have to decide everything at once," he says. "But you do have to be honest with yourself."
Honest.
The word hits harder than I expect.
Because honesty is exactly what I've been avoiding.
My chest tightens, and I look away again.
"I am being honest."
"No," he says gently. "You're trying to protect everyone."
That—
That lands.
I inhale sharply, my fingers tightening.
"You always do that," he continues quietly. "You carry everything yourself. You think if you can just figure it out alone, no one else will get hurt."
My throat burns.
"That's not—"
"It is," he interrupts softly, not harsh, just certain. "And it's hurting you."
Silence falls again.
But this time, it's different.
Because now I can feel everything pressing in at once.
Harley.
Samuel.
The past.
The night I can't fully remember.
The future I'm suddenly terrified of.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," I whisper.
It comes out broken.
Honest.
Real.
Samuel's expression softens, just slightly.
"I know."
That makes it worse.
"Then what am I supposed to do?" I ask, my voice trembling now despite my effort to stay steady.
Because no matter what I choose…
Someone gets hurt.
Samuel doesn't answer right away.
For the first time since he walked in, he hesitates.
And that alone makes my chest tighten.
Because Samuel never hesitates.
Not with me.
When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter than before.
"You choose the person you can't walk away from."
My breath catches.
The words settle into me slowly, like they're searching for somewhere to land.
"You choose the one you'd regret losing," he adds.
I stare at him, my heart pounding harder now.
"And if I don't know?" I ask.
His gaze doesn't waver.
"You do."
I shake my head slightly, my chest tightening. "It doesn't feel that simple."
"It's not simple," he says. "But it is clear."
Clear.
If it's so clear…
Then why does it feel like I'm standing in the middle of a storm?
My thoughts spin, my chest tightening more with every second.
Because there is an answer.
I just don't want to face it.
Samuel watches me carefully.
And then—
slowly—
he reaches out.
His hand brushes against mine, warm, steady, grounding.
I freeze.
It's such a small touch.
But it feels… different.
Intentional.
"Sophie," he says quietly.
My name sounds softer in his voice than it ever has before.
"You don't have to go through this alone."
Something in my chest cracks slightly.
Because that's exactly what I've been doing.
Alone.
Always alone.
"I'm here," he continues. "No matter what you decide."
My fingers twitch under his.
No matter what.
Even if I don't choose him.
The realization hits me all at once.
And it hurts.
Because I know what this moment means.
Samuel isn't just comforting me anymore.
He's stepping forward.
Into a space I haven't let anyone else take.
Not fully.
Not like this.
My chest tightens again.
Because for the first time—
I don't pull my hand away.
I let him hold it.
And that…
That feels like a choice.
Even if I don't say it out loud.
Even if I'm not ready to admit it.
Even if somewhere deep inside me…
another name still lingers.
Harley.
The thought alone makes my chest ache.
But I push it down.
Because right now—
Samuel is here.
Samuel is steady.
Samuel is the one who isn't breaking me apart.
And maybe…
maybe that's what I need.
I close my eyes briefly, exhaling slowly.
When I open them again, my voice is quieter.
"Stay," I say.
It's barely above a whisper.
But he hears it.
Samuel's grip tightens just slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to feel certain.
"I'm not going anywhere," he replies.
And for the first time in days—
the silence doesn't feel suffocating.
It feels…
held.
But even as I sit there, letting myself lean into something safe—
something steady—
I can't ignore the quiet voice in the back of my mind.
The one that refuses to disappear.
The one that still whispers his name.
Harley.