The silence of her room felt heavier than usual.
Riyana dropped her bag near the chair and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at nothing in particular.
For a long time—
She didn't move.
Didn't change.
Didn't even breathe properly.
Her mind was still in that cabin.
You're not this patient with me.
The words echoed again.
Clear.
Sharp.
Uncontrolled.
She shut her eyes tightly.
"Why did I say that…" she whispered under her breath.
It wasn't just a sentence.
It was a crack.
A slip.
A truth she wasn't supposed to reveal.
She leaned back slowly, resting her head against the wall.
The ceiling above her looked the same.
Unchanged.
Unlike everything inside her.
That wasn't irritation.
That wasn't just observation.
She exhaled sharply.
"That was jealousy."
The word felt unfamiliar on her tongue.
Uncomfortable.
Dangerous.
Riyana sat up abruptly.
"No."
She shook her head.
"No, no… that's not what this is."
But the more she denied it—
The clearer it became.
The way it bothered her.
The way she noticed him with someone else.
The way her tone changed without her control.
Her fingers curled into the bedsheet.
This is exactly how it starts.
A slow shift.
A small attachment.
A little attention.
And then—
Everything.
Her expression hardened.
Because she had seen this before.
Lived it.
Felt it.
A memory flashed.
Not clear.
Not complete.
Just fragments—
Waiting for messages that never came.
Adjusting herself to fit someone else's expectations.
Ignoring red flags.
Convincing herself this is normal.
And then—
The silence.
The disappointment.
The way it broke her piece by piece.
Riyana opened her eyes again.
This time, they were colder.
More aware.
"I've been here before."
Her voice was quiet.
But firm.
She stood up and walked toward the mirror.
Stopped.
Looked at herself.
Not just her face—
But the person she had become.
Stronger.
Calmer.
Stable.
At peace.
Not completely happy—
But not broken either.
And that mattered.
That mattered more than anything.
"I didn't come this far just to lose it again."
Her reflection didn't respond.
But she didn't need it to.
She already knew.
She crossed her arms slowly.
Her thoughts turning sharper now.
Clearer.
More protective.
"This is how it starts," she repeated softly.
"First it feels normal… then it feels good… and then it takes everything."
Her jaw tightened slightly.
"I can't do that again."
Bosco's face flashed in her mind.
The way he spoke.
The way he noticed her.
The way he said her name today.
Her expression flickered—
Just for a second.
Then hardened again.
"Maybe he's just… like that."
Calm.
Decent.
Easy to talk to.
But that didn't mean anything.
It never did.
Not really.
Her thoughts shifted.
Darker this time.
More defensive.
"Or maybe…" she whispered slowly, "it's not even that."
A pause.
Then—
"Maybe it's just attraction."
The word felt safer.
Simpler.
Less dangerous than love.
She looked away from the mirror.
"He talks to me… works with me… notices me…"
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"That doesn't mean anything real."
Because she had believed that before.
And she wasn't going to make that mistake again.
"What if this is just… temporary?"
"What if I'm just convenient?"
"What if it's not even love… just… interest?"
Her chest felt tight again.
But this time—
She didn't let it grow.
"No."
Firm.
Clear.
Decided.
"I'm not doing this again."
She walked back to the bed and sat down.
Her hands rested still in her lap now.
No trembling.
No confusion.
Just decision.
"I've earned my peace."
Each word came slower than the last.
"Healing wasn't easy."
"It took time."
"Effort."
"Everything."
Her eyes lowered slightly.
"I can't lose that… not again."
A long silence filled the room.
Then—
Almost like a whisper she didn't want to hear herself—
"I don't even deserve love."
The words slipped out quietly.
But they stayed.
Heavy.
Unchallenged.
She didn't cry.
Didn't react.
Just sat there—
Accepting it like a fact she had already made peace with.
"Love doesn't work for me," she said softly.
"It never did."
A small pause.
Then—
"And it won't now."
Bosco crossed her mind again.
But this time—
She didn't let the thought linger.
Didn't let it soften her.
Didn't let it grow.
"I'll fix this."
Her voice steadied.
"I'll go back to how things were."
Professional.
Distant.
Clear boundaries.
No confusion.
No attachment.
No expectations.
"And him…"
A small pause.
Then—
"I'll stay away."
Not physically.
Not obviously.
But enough.
Enough to protect herself.
Enough to not fall into something she couldn't control.
Because she knew one thing for sure—
If she didn't stop now…
She might not be able to stop later.
Riyana lay down slowly, staring at the ceiling again.
The same ceiling.
The same room.
But now—
Her decision was different.
Final.
No feelings.
No attachment.
No risks.
And somewhere deep inside—
A quieter voice tried to question her.
What if this is different?
But she didn't listen.
She couldn't afford to.
So she closed her eyes—
Holding onto the only thing that mattered to her now:
Her peace.
Even if it meant—
Letting something go…
Before it even had the chance to begin.