Archive of Our Own ^beta

Gwen always wondered what it felt like to be loved.

Growing up in a household where affection was rarely shown, love seemed like a foreign concept to her. The silence of unspoken care had shaped her, making her feel distant from the idea of being in love. But it had also taught her resilience. Independence was her safety net, her way of coping, and she believed it made her strong. She didn't need anyone; she was enough on her own. Or at least, that's what she told herself. Yet, deep down, there was a small part of her that longed for connection, even if she didn’t fully understand what that meant.

Aiah always wondered what it felt like to be okay.

Her life felt like a whirlwind of chaos, a storm she couldn’t escape. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, calling her a disaster, and she had come to believe it. No matter how much she tried to fix herself, the mess clung to her like a second skin. Every step toward healing felt like another step backward. She was exhausted from trying, and though she desperately wished for peace, it always seemed just out of reach, leaving her frustrated and sick of her own reflection. Even as she put on a brave face, the cracks in her façade grew deeper, and she feared she’d never feel whole again.

Vista Café – 1:30 AM

Gwen found herself in the corner of a café near the university she used to attend. She didn’t really know why she had come back, but she couldn’t sleep, as usual. Insomnia had been a constant companion for as long as she could remember.

The wind from the open window brushed her skin, cool and unexpected. She briefly wondered why the window was open in the middle of the night, but it seemed like such a small thing compared to the weight of her exhaustion. After a long day at work, her mind felt frayed, and all she could do was take another sip of her bitter coffee, hoping it would somehow ground her.

It was then she heard it—a faint, muffled cry from the table nearby. She glanced up and saw a girl in a blue jacket, her face hidden in her arms, her body trembling with sobs. The sight made something in Gwen’s chest tighten. She instantly felt a pang of sympathy, the instinct to reach out, but the moment passed quickly. She hesitated.

What would she even say? Comforting someone wasn’t something she was used to. She barely understood how to process her own emotions, let alone someone else’s. The thought of stepping into that kind of vulnerability made her uncomfortable. So she stayed where she was, caught between the urge to help and the fear of not knowing how.

Still, Gwen couldn't look away, her gaze lingering on the girl, as if she was waiting for some kind of sign that it would be okay to intervene. Maybe, just maybe, this was the moment she'd find out what it meant to connect with someone after all.

After a few moments of hesitation, Gwen found herself standing at the girl’s table. She gently tapped her shoulder and awkwardly offered a tissue. “Sorry, but… why are you crying?” The question left her lips before she could stop it. She almost cursed herself—too blunt.

The girl, Aiah, looked up at Gwen like she had grown a second head. "Why are you asking me? Besides, don’t you think that’s a bit personal?"

Gwen’s face burned with embarrassment, but she decided to push forward. She was already in too deep to back out now. “Well, for starters, you’re bawling your eyes out in a café at this hour,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Don’t you think someone should ask, considering you’re sitting here alone?”

Aiah raised an eyebrow and gave her a look of disbelief. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

Gwen shrugged. "Guess I missed that lesson." Then, with a small, uncertain smile, she asked, "So... what’s your name?"

Despite her initial reluctance, Aiah introduced herself, and Gwen quickly found herself pulling up a chair. The conversation flowed in fits and starts, both of them feeling their way through the awkwardness. Gwen learned that Aiah tended to cry when life became too overwhelming, and that she was two years older than her.

To lighten the mood, Gwen ordered Aiah a hot Spanish latte, hoping it would help in some small way. By the time they finished their drinks, the tension between them had eased. They exchanged numbers before Gwen hailed a cab for Aiah, making sure she got home safely.

As the cab pulled away, Gwen stood on the sidewalk, watching the tail lights fade into the night. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted inside her, something small but significant, like the first crack in a wall she hadn’t realized she’d built around herself.

A week had passed, and Gwen and Aiah had fallen into a rhythm. Their conversations, which started out as polite exchanges, soon turned into late-night texts and calls that stretched until sunrise. There was an unexpected ease between them—despite their initial awkward meeting, they connected on a level Gwen hadn’t anticipated.

Aiah, for her part, found herself looking forward to their chats more than she had expected. The way Gwen seemed to both understand and challenge her made her feel oddly comforted. So, after a week of back-and-forth messages, Aiah decided it was time to take things a step further.

She sent Gwen a text that evening: "Hey, wanna come over to my condo this weekend? Thought we could hang out, maybe order some food or something?"

Aiah's Condo – 6:30 PM

The two of them bonded over take-out food and a Korean drama, lounging on Aiah’s bed, both relaxed in a way that felt surprisingly natural. They laughed at the characters' antics, shared comments about the plot twists, and for once, Gwen felt a sense of peace.

Aiah’s condo was about the same size as Gwen’s, but it felt different. The white walls and minimalist décor in shades of black and gray gave it a clean, homey atmosphere. Gwen couldn’t help but notice how organized everything was—each item had its place, from the perfectly stacked books on the shelf to the neatly folded blanket at the edge of the bed. It was a stark contrast to Gwen’s more chaotic space.

At some point, Aiah said something about the drama, but Gwen didn’t catch it. She was distracted by Aiah’s scent—warm and soft, like vanilla mixed with a hint of floral perfume. It lingered in the air around her, and for some reason, it made her heart race just a little. She tried to focus on the screen, but her senses were filled with Aiah’s presence. Everything about the moment felt intimate, and it was unsettling in a way Gwen hadn’t expected. She wasn’t sure what it meant or why it mattered, but it did.

At 10:15 PM

Aiah kissed Gwen. It was sudden but gentle, Aiah’s lips soft and unhurried against hers. Gwen froze at first, her mind racing to catch up with what was happening. Then Aiah pulled back just enough to whisper with a teasing grin, "You taste like chocolate."

Gwen blinked, caught off guard by the comment. She doesn't like sweets.

Aiah chuckled softly, her lips grazing Gwen's again, slower this time. "Maybe you're the only sweet thing I can handle," Gwen thought. It was the one sweetness she could tolerate—the softness of Aiah's kiss, the warmth of her body as she moved onto Gwen's lap, as if nothing else existed in that moment.

Aiah kissed her with an intensity Gwen hadn’t expected, like it was something she needed, something that made her feel alive. She tugged at Gwen’s shirt, silently asking for more, seeking permission, and Gwen nodded—yes.

But before anything could progress, Aiah's phone rang, shattering the moment. Startled, Aiah immediately pulled away, her breath quick as she climbed off Gwen’s lap. She glanced at the screen, her expression suddenly serious. “Let’s not talk about this,” she said quickly, before Gwen could say anything.

Gwen sat there, heart pounding, still trying to process what had just happened. Confusion washed over her as she watched Aiah stand and head to the bathroom. The door was nearly closed when Gwen overheard the voice on the other end of the phone, a voice that sent a chill down her spine. "Babe, I'll be there in an hour. Traffic’s just crazy here."

The words echoed in the quiet room. Gwen stared at the bathroom door, her mind spinning with questions, unsure of what to make of the moment that had just passed—and the one that was unfolding now.

And so she left.

The day after, Gwen received a message from Aiah: "Can we meet at the coffee shop where we first met? I need to explain everything."

Gwen stared at the text for a long moment, unsure of how to respond. The confusion from the night before still lingered, and she had been trying to make sense of it all. A part of her wanted to ignore the message, to avoid whatever explanation Aiah had to offer. But another part of her, the part that had felt something stirring during that kiss, wanted answers.

She hesitated before typing a reply: "Okay. What time?"

Aiah responded quickly, setting the time for the afternoon. As Gwen sat in her apartment, waiting for the hours to pass, her thoughts ran wild. She replayed the moment over and over—the kiss, Aiah’s sudden withdrawal, the voice on the phone. None of it made sense, and it left her feeling conflicted.

Vista Café — 3:15 PM

Gwen made her way to the coffee shop. The place looked exactly the same as it had the night they first met, but the weight of anticipation made everything feel different. She spotted Aiah sitting at a corner table, her expression anxious as she sipped her coffee.

Gwen took a deep breath and walked over to the table. Aiah glanced up, her face filled with a mix of regret and something else Gwen couldn’t quite place. Without a word, she pointed to the seat across from her. As soon as Gwen sat down, Aiah reached across the table, gently taking her hand. Her grip was cold, her fingers trembling slightly. Aiah’s eyes were filled with unspoken emotions as she mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

Gwen didn’t respond right away. She simply stared at Aiah, feeling the chill of her touch. Logically, she knew she shouldn’t let Aiah hold her hand after everything that had happened—the confusion, the unanswered questions, the voice on the phone. But there was something about the way Aiah held on, something fragile, that Gwen couldn’t ignore.

They sat in silence for a while, the air heavy with words left unsaid. Aiah didn’t offer any explanation, even though she had promised to. And yet, Gwen didn’t push. She couldn’t explain it, but a part of her knew that Aiah needed this, needed her. The pull between them, despite the confusion, was undeniable.

Gwen found herself letting it go, at least for now. Maybe it wasn’t about understanding at this moment. Maybe it was about being there, even when things didn’t make sense.

After a long stretch of quiet, Gwen finally let out a sigh and stood up. "Come on, I'll drive you home," she said softly, breaking the silence.

Aiah looked up, surprised but grateful, and nodded. She followed Gwen to her car, their earlier tension lingering but unspoken. The drive was quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts, the hum of the engine and the soft sound of the radio filling the silence between them.

As Gwen navigated through the streets, she stole glances at Aiah, who stared out the window, her expression unreadable. Part of Gwen wanted to ask the questions that still swirled in her mind, but something held her back. Instead, she focused on getting Aiah home safely.

A ringing sound from her phone woke Gwen from her nap. She groggily checked the caller ID—it was Aiah. Instinctively, she answered, "Hello, Aiah?"

At first, there was silence, then a soft sniffle on the other end. Gwen’s drowsiness evaporated instantly. “Gwen…” Aiah's voice came through, shaky and uneven.

Gwen immediately sat up, her concern rising. “What happened? Where are you?”

“My condo…” Aiah’s voice broke, and she couldn’t finish her sentence. Gwen could hear her trying to hold back tears.

Without hesitation, Gwen knew what she needed to do. "I’ll be there. Wait for me," she said firmly, already grabbing her keys and heading for the door.

Aiah’s Condo – 8:08 PM

When Gwen arrived at Aiah’s condo, she found her sitting on the couch, eyes red and swollen from crying. Aiah barely looked up as Gwen entered, but her presence was enough for Aiah to break down all over again.

Between shaky breaths and more tears, Aiah finally confessed the truth. It was about her ex, Colet. They had been together for three years before their relationship unraveled, torn apart by differences in values, constant arguments, and the slow erosion of trust. They had broken up, but Aiah hadn’t been able to cut ties completely.

“I still love her,” Aiah whispered, her voice trembling, “and she knows it. But every time we talk, it just turns into a mess. I don’t know why I can’t let go.”

Gwen’s chest tightened at Aiah’s words. Hearing Aiah admit her lingering feelings for Colet was like a punch to the gut, and something deep inside Gwen hurt in a way she couldn’t explain. Aiah’s love for Colet was still strong, and as much as Gwen wanted to deny it, she couldn’t ignore the ache it caused her.

At 10:15 PM

Aiah kissed Gwen again.

Without warning, Aiah leaned in and kissed Gwen again. It was a desperate kiss, filled with pain, vulnerability, and longing. Gwen could taste Aiah’s tears, salty and warm, mixing with the softness of her lips. She knew she should feel guilty, but she didn’t. Instead, there was a deep surge of protectiveness swelling in her chest.

Gwen wasn’t the type to harbor anger or hold grudges, but in that moment, she felt a flash of rage toward Colet. How could someone hurt Aiah this much? How could someone break her down so completely? Gwen wanted to find Colet and curse her to her face for causing this heartbreak.

But as Aiah kissed her, Gwen put all those thoughts aside. She wasn’t thinking about Colet or the complications. All she could focus on was Aiah—the girl who had somehow crept into her life and heart in ways Gwen hadn’t fully understood until now. Gwen wrapped her arms around Aiah, pulling her closer, offering her comfort through the kiss, even if the world around them felt tangled and uncertain.

Azure Mall – 10:20 AM

Aiah saw Gwen.

Gwen was laughing with another girl, her long black hair falling in waves around her shoulders. She was slightly shorter than Gwen, and the way her dimples appeared when she laughed made it clear they shared a close bond. They seemed to be in their own world, completely at ease with each other.

As Gwen’s eyes scanned the room, they landed on Aiah. She was with Colet, her ex. They were holding hands. A pang of jealousy hit Gwen hard, though she couldn’t fully understand why. She knew she wasn’t Aiah’s first choice; she had always been the one Aiah turned to when she couldn’t have what she really wanted. But despite knowing this, it hurt more than she expected. Why did she care so much?

Gwen's attention was drawn back to the girl she was with when she playfully tugged at her arm. "Come on, let’s go catch that movie!" the girl said, pulling Gwen along. Gwen allowed herself to be led away, forcing a smile to hide the emotions stirring inside her.

Aiah watched them leave, her grip on Colet’s hand tightening unconsciously. That burning sensation in her chest—the jealousy she felt as she saw Gwen with someone else—was unfamiliar and unsettling.

At 1:00 AM

They were kissing again, back at Aiah’s condo. Aiah was hovering over Gwen, her lips crashing down with an intensity that was far different from the gentle kisses they'd shared before. There was a desperation in the way Aiah kissed her, as if trying to erase the jealousy she had felt earlier, to prove something neither of them had put into words.

Aiah's grip on Gwen’s hand was firm, almost too tight, her lips relentless. She bit down hard on Gwen’s lower lip, so much that it split, and Gwen tasted the sharp metallic tang of blood. But she ignored the pain. The sting of the bite was drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of Aiah’s lips against hers, the heat between them too consuming to think of anything else.

In that moment, Gwen wasn’t concerned about the confusion between them or the complicated web of emotions tied to Colet. All she could focus on was the rawness of Aiah’s kiss, the way it made her feel both needed and wanted, even if it was wrapped up in something more than either of them was ready to acknowledge.

If you asked Gwen about her personality, she'd probably shrug and say she didn’t have one. Her friends always described her as nonchalant—quiet, minding her own business, and reserved. So she didn’t quite understand why she was allowing herself to have a pillow talk with Aiah, of all people. But here she was, lying beside her, sharing the kind of intimacy that felt both unfamiliar and oddly comforting.

Aiah broke the silence, her voice soft but direct. “Is she your girlfriend?” she asked, her eyes searching Gwen’s for an answer.

Gwen blinked, confused for a moment. “Who?”

“The girl… at the mall earlier,” Aiah clarified, her tone carrying a hint of something deeper, like she was afraid of the answer.

Gwen couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t be here if I had a girlfriend.”

Aiah exhaled, almost in relief, before reaching for Gwen’s hand and intertwining their fingers. She let out a sigh, staring at their clasped hands. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice softer now, as if that single word held back a flood of unspoken thoughts.

Gwen and Aiah were always talking—whether through texts, calls, or in person. Their conversations had become a constant in both of their lives, as natural as breathing. But lately, it seemed that whenever they were together, talking gave way to something else. The next time Gwen invited Aiah over to her condo, it was meant to be a casual movie night. But just like all the other times, it ended up in a tangled mess of lips and hands, making out on the couch, the movie long forgotten.

Somewhere in the blur of their growing closeness, Aiah learned that the girl she had seen Gwen with at the mall was Sheena, Gwen’s best friend. They had grown up together and even worked at the same company.

Gwen, in turn, learned small, intimate details about Aiah. She found out that Aiah liked to jog early in the morning, often before the sun was up, enjoying the quiet before the world stirred to life. Aiah was an extrovert, comfortable in crowds in a way that Gwen would never be. Her favorite flowers were daisies, simple and cheerful. And she loved to hold Gwen’s hand, even when they were just sitting together on the couch in silence. It was a subtle gesture, but one that made Gwen’s heart flutter every time.

As the days went on, Gwen came to a realization she hadn’t been expecting—she loved Aiah. It wasn’t sudden; it had grown slowly, creeping up on her like a sunrise she hadn’t noticed until it was already in full bloom. But with that love came a sharp awareness, a sense of fragility. Loving Aiah felt like hanging onto a thin thread, one that could snap with the slightest tug. Aiah’s lingering feelings for Colet hovered over them like a shadow, and Gwen knew that no matter how much she cared, her place in Aiah’s life was uncertain.

Yet despite the fear of that thread breaking, Gwen couldn’t pull herself away. She held on, even though she knew that loving Aiah meant risking heartbreak.

Gwen’s Condo – 2:20 AM

Gwen was jolted awake by the sound of her doorbell ringing. Groaning, she glanced at the clock on her wall—it was 2 a.m. Her brows furrowed as the bell rang again, forcing her out of bed. She rubbed her eyes, assuming it was Sheena, likely coming over after a night out, ready to crash at her place as she sometimes did

“I swear to God, if you’re just—” Gwen began as she opened the door, but the words died in her throat when she saw who was standing there

It was Aiah, her face streaked with tears, standing there, completely shattered.

“Colet has someone else,” Aiah whimpered, her voice broken and fragile.

Before Gwen could process the words, her body acted on instinct. She immediately wrapped Aiah in a tight hug, pulling her close as sobs wracked through her. Gwen’s heart broke for her, feeling helpless against the weight of Aiah’s pain. She gently kissed the side of Aiah’s head, her fingers running soothingly through her hair, wishing she could take away the hurt. She whispered soft reassurances, even though she knew words couldn’t mend the wound that Colet had left.

All Gwen could do was hold her, offering the only comfort she had in the moment—the warmth of her presence, her silent promise to stay.

Aiah had asked Gwen if she’d be willing to meet her friends, and Gwen, not wanting to disappoint, had agreed. What she didn’t realize until they stepped into the restaurant was that Colet was part of Aiah’s group. The thought hit her like a brick, but Gwen swallowed her discomfort, trying her best to seem unfazed.

The moment they entered, the restaurant was filled with the sound of loud laughter and chatter. Aiah introduced Gwen to the group, who greeted her warmly. Maloi was the loudest of the bunch, constantly sharing stories and keeping the energy high. Stacey had a quirky, girly vibe, her love for pink obvious in her outfit and accessories. She seemed sweet, though, and Gwen found her bubbly personality endearing. Jhoanna was equally chatty and often teased Stacey, their playful banter drawing laughs from the table. Gwen thought they were adorable, their dynamic filled with light-heartedness.

Then there was Colet, seated right beside Aiah. She smiled and laughed along with the rest of the group, her presence striking a chord Gwen wasn’t prepared for. The entire time, Colet sat close to Aiah, too close for Gwen’s comfort. Every time they exchanged a glance or a smile, Gwen felt a knot tighten in her chest. She wanted to tell Aiah to sit next to her, to claim some space between them, but she knew she couldn’t. Aiah had introduced her as just a friend.

Gwen forced herself to stay calm, smiling through the tension gnawing at her insides. She tried to focus on the others, but her eyes kept drifting back to Aiah and Colet. Even though Aiah was there with her, Gwen couldn’t shake the feeling that she was, once again, the outsider looking in.

As the night came to an end and everyone was getting ready to leave, Gwen turned to Aiah and offered to take her home. But Aiah smiled apologetically, her words hitting harder than she intended. "Sorry, Gwen, Colet offered first..."

Gwen didn’t know what to feel—disappointment, frustration, or maybe both—but she shrugged it off anyway, masking it with a forced smile. "It's okay," she said, her voice steady. After all, she was just a friend, right?

Hell, she didn’t even know why she had expected to be introduced as anything else.

Gwen bid the rest of the group goodbye and left the restaurant alone, her thoughts heavy as she made her way home. When she finally got home, the silence of her apartment felt louder than usual. She sat on the couch, replaying the night in her head—Aiah sitting beside Colet, the laughter, the casual way Aiah had brushed off her offer. Trying to push the feeling aside, Gwen grabbed her phone and sent Aiah a message: "Thanks for letting me meet your friends. They seem great."

But hours passed, and no reply came. Gwen stared at her phone, waiting for the screen to light up, but it stayed silent. The ache in her chest grew, as did the realization that no matter how much she tried to ignore it, Aiah’s heart was still tangled up in someone else. And for the first time, Gwen wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend that it didn’t hurt.

It took Aiah an entire week to call Gwen again. When she finally did, there was nothing particularly special about the conversation—just an invitation to come over to her condo, as if the silence between them hadn’t stretched on for days. Gwen accepted, but when she arrived, things felt different. This time, they weren’t making out or talking deeply. They just sat there, supposedly watching a movie. But while Gwen focused on the screen, Aiah seemed distant, her eyes fixed blankly on the television.

Gwen couldn’t quite understand what was going on. There was an unease in the air, something unspoken between them. And yet, she was there, once again, offering her presence, her time, whatever Aiah needed. That urge to give Aiah everything, without asking for anything in return, always seemed to pull her in.

She didn’t understand why she kept coming back, especially after the week of complete silence from Aiah. Why was she still sitting here, in Aiah’s condo, when it was clear that she was just a fleeting part of Aiah’s life?

What Gwen didn’t know was that Aiah wondered the same thing.

5:05 PM

A few days later, Aiah finally cut ties with Colet. The decision left her in pieces, unraveling all the emotions she had tried to bury. She was a mess—questioning everything that had led her to this point, feeling the weight of every failed relationship. Her mind echoed with her mother’s harsh words, calling her a walking disaster, reminding her that no one would ever stay.

When Aiah showed up at Gwen’s door, broken and sobbing, Gwen’s first instinct was anger. She wanted nothing more than to punch Colet for putting Aiah through this, for leaving her in such a state. But as she looked at Aiah, shattered and vulnerable, all Gwen could think about was how to help her.

Without a word, Gwen gently guided Aiah inside, making sure she was taken care of. She helped her change into more comfortable clothes, wiped away her makeup, and carefully dried her hair. Afterward, Gwen cooked her a simple dinner, something warm and comforting, hoping it would give Aiah even a small sense of peace.

Throughout it all, Gwen didn’t ask any questions. She knew that Aiah was struggling to hold herself together, and words wouldn’t be enough to fix what had been broken. Instead, Gwen hoped her presence—her quiet, steady care—would provide the comfort Aiah needed. In that moment, Gwen didn’t need to say anything; she was simply there, and she hoped that was enough.

It had been nine months since Gwen and Aiah first met, and in that time, they continued to learn small, intimate facts about each other that only deepened their connection.

Aiah learned that Gwen had a hard time in crowded places, her anxiety kicking in when the noise and chaos became too much. That was why Gwen preferred staying indoors or venturing out at night, when the world felt quieter, less overwhelming. She also discovered Gwen's quirky habits—like how she poured milk first before adding cereal, how she preferred tulips over roses, and how, unlike most, Gwen didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.

Their time together was often spent in the simplest of ways—long night drives with no particular destination, hanging out in empty parking lots at gas stations, sharing take-out food as they talked about anything and everything. Other nights, they would just relax in one of their condos, enjoying each other's presence in comfortable silence. It had become their routine, something both of them cherished.

But despite the closeness, despite how much they had grown to understand each other, there was one thing they still hadn’t addressed—their relationship status. Nine months had passed, and yet the topic hung in the air, always unspoken. Sometimes, in quiet moments, Gwen found herself wishing they would talk about it, that Aiah would make their connection clear. But she couldn’t find the courage to start the conversation herself.

The night was calm, with the hum of the car engine and the distant glow of streetlights passing by as Gwen and Aiah drove through the empty roads. It had become their routine—late-night drives with no destination in mind, just the quiet comfort of each other’s company. The windows were slightly cracked, letting in the cool night breeze, and the radio played softly in the background.

They were talking about the most random things, as they often did. Aiah had just finished telling Gwen a ridiculous story about a childhood prank gone wrong, and Gwen was chuckling, her laugh light and easy.

"I can't believe you did that!" Gwen said between laughs, shaking her head.

"Hey, I was like, ten. Cut me some slack," Aiah defended herself with a playful grin, though she couldn’t help but laugh at the memory too.

Gwen glanced over at Aiah, her smile lingering as the conversation drifted from one silly topic to another—favorite snacks, bizarre dreams, and the strangest places they’d ever visited. It was effortless, the way they could talk for hours about nothing and everything at the same time.

At some point, without even thinking about it, Gwen reached over and took Aiah’s hand. Her fingers laced through Aiah’s, the gesture natural and tender. Aiah turned to look at Gwen, surprised but warmed by the touch, her heart skipping a beat.

For a moment, the conversation paused as they both sat there, holding hands in the soft glow of the dashboard lights. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding.

Aiah squeezed Gwen’s hand gently, feeling a warmth bloom inside her. "You know," she said softly, glancing out the window before turning back to Gwen, "these drives are my favorite part of the week."

Gwen smiled, her thumb lightly brushing against Aiah’s hand. "Mine too," she admitted, her voice just above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might break the magic of the moment.

They didn’t need to say more. The road stretched ahead, dark and endless, and for now, that was all they needed. Just the two of them, in the quiet of the night, with their hands intertwined and the world outside fading into the background.

Riverside – 1:00 AM

The air by the river was crisp, carrying the scent of fresh water and damp earth. Gwen and Aiah walked side by side along the path, the soft sound of the river flowing beside them. The city was quiet this late at night, and the only light came from the dim glow of street lamps reflecting off the water.

For a while, they walked in comfortable silence, but Gwen could sense something weighing on Aiah’s mind. The peaceful setting seemed to open the door for deeper conversations, and it wasn’t long before Aiah’s voice broke the quiet.

“I’ve always had this... pattern,” Aiah began, her voice soft, but there was a heaviness to it. “I leave people. It’s like, no matter how close I get to someone, I find a way to push them away. I don’t even mean to, but I do it, and after a while, it’s just easier to be alone.” She glanced at Gwen, her expression conflicted.

Gwen stayed quiet, listening intently as they continued to walk. She didn’t rush Aiah, knowing this wasn’t something easy for her to talk about.

Aiah kicked a small pebble on the path, watching it skitter away. “I’ve been doing it my whole life, I think. I leave before they can leave me. And it makes me feel like I don’t deserve to stay anywhere, or with anyone. Like I don’t deserve peace, or love, or any of that.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed hard, trying to steady herself.

Gwen’s heart ached at hearing Aiah’s words. She had seen the cracks in Aiah’s armor before, but this was different—this was Aiah letting her see the deeper scars. Gwen tightened her grip on Aiah’s hand, her way of saying she was still here, still listening.

"I know it’s probably messed up," Aiah continued, her gaze now fixed on the river. "But I feel like I destroy everything good in my life. Every time I get close to someone, I convince myself that they’re better off without me, so I just leave. It’s... exhausting, you know?" She let out a heavy sigh, her breath visible in the cool night air.

Gwen stopped walking and gently tugged Aiah to a halt as well, turning to face her. "You don’t have to do that with me," she said softly, her eyes locking with Aiah’s. "I’m not going anywhere."

Aiah looked at Gwen, her eyes filled with doubt, but also with a glimmer of hope. She didn’t speak for a moment, unsure how to respond. Gwen stepped closer, her voice calm but firm. "You deserve peace, Aiah. You deserve love and people who stay. I’m here, okay? And I’m not leaving."

Aiah looked down, tears threatening to fall, but she blinked them away. She had spent so long believing that she didn’t deserve any of it—peace, stability, or love. But Gwen’s presence, her unwavering support, made her question those beliefs, even if just for a moment.

They stood there, the river flowing steadily beside them, the night calm and still. Aiah exhaled, her breath shaky but lighter. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like she was running. And Gwen—steady, patient Gwen—made her believe that maybe, just maybe, she could stay.

Gwen finally worked up the nerve to ask Aiah if she wanted to meet Sheena. It seemed like a natural next step, considering how much time they had spent together over the past nine months.

Aiah hesitated for a moment, the familiar pang of jealousy rising within her. Sheena had been part of Gwen’s life for so long—since their diaper days, as Gwen would fondly put it—and their bond was undeniable. Aiah couldn’t help but feel a little insecure about it, knowing how deep that connection ran.

Part of her wanted to say no. She wasn't sure she could handle seeing how close Gwen and Sheena were in person, knowing there was a part of Gwen's life she couldn’t touch in the same way. But at the same time, it felt unfair to Gwen. After all, Gwen had already met her friends—even Colet—and Aiah had to admit that this was only fair.

With a small, uncertain smile, Aiah agreed. "Yeah, I’d love to meet her," she said, trying to push the jealousy aside.

Restaurant – 5:15 PM

Aiah agreed to meet Gwen and Sheena at the restaurant, though Gwen had offered to pick her up. But since both Gwen and Sheena were coming from work, Aiah declined, preferring to meet them there. She didn’t know what to expect. Gwen rarely brought Sheena up in their conversations, so Aiah had only the slightest idea of who Sheena really was.

When Aiah entered the restaurant, her eyes immediately found Gwen and Sheena seated in a corner booth. They were talking, and Sheena was laughing at something Gwen had said, her eyes bright with amusement. Aiah felt a sudden burning sensation in her stomach, the jealousy she had tried to bury creeping up again. But she swallowed it down and walked toward them, summoning her courage.

"Hi..." Aiah greeted softly as she approached.

Both Gwen and Sheena turned their heads in her direction. Gwen’s face lit up with a warm smile. "Aiah!" she exclaimed, standing up to greet her with a soft kiss on the cheek. Sheena also stood, a friendly smile on her face.

Gwen introduced them. "She, this is Aiah. Aiah, this is Sheena."

Sheena extended her hand. "Nice to finally meet you," she said, her tone friendly and warm.

Aiah shook her hand, her grip firm but her stomach still in knots. "Nice to meet you too," she replied, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nerves.

Gwen pulled the chair beside her for Aiah to sit in, a small but thoughtful gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by either woman. Aiah thanked her, but she couldn’t shake the subtle glance Sheena gave Gwen as she helped Aiah into her seat. It was quick, almost imperceptible, but Aiah caught it.

The conversation flowed easily among the three of them. Aiah learned more about Sheena and Gwen’s history—how their mothers were best friends, and how they had lived in the same neighborhood as kids. That explained why they practically grew up together, always in each other’s lives.

As they exchanged facts and memories, Aiah couldn’t help but notice just how close Gwen and Sheena were. Sheena had a way of bringing out Gwen’s laughter, a loud, carefree sound that filled the restaurant. Aiah watched them, feeling a slight pang in her chest. She had never made Gwen laugh like that. It wasn’t as though their time together wasn’t filled with joy or comfort, but seeing this side of Gwen, one she rarely witnessed, made her wonder.

And then, there was something else Aiah noticed—the way Sheena looked at Gwen. It wasn’t just friendly affection or nostalgia for their shared past. No, it was deeper. Aiah recognized that look instantly. It was the same look she had when she was in love with Colet.

Aiah’s chest tightened. Sheena didn’t have to say a word for Aiah to sense it. The way she gazed at Gwen, with a softness in her eyes and a barely noticeable lingering glance, made it clear that there were unspoken feelings beneath the surface. Aiah tried to focus on the conversation, but that look stayed with her, stirring a wave of unease that she couldn’t shake.

The dinner had just ended. The evening had gone well, for the most part, with laughter and conversation filling the gaps of what could have been an awkward situation. Aiah had managed to keep her jealousy in check, watching the playful dynamic between Gwen and Sheena while trying to focus on the fact that Gwen had invited her into this part of her life. Still, there were lingering moments that concerned her, especially the way Sheena had a natural ease with Gwen, one that Aiah sometimes felt she struggled to match.

When they reached the car, Sheena climbed into the front seat without hesitation, taking the passenger side. Aiah slid into the back, feeling a quiet unease settle in her chest, though she tried her best to push it away. Gwen started the car, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence as they pulled away from the restaurant.

For the first few minutes, there wasn’t much conversation. Sheena was scrolling through her phone, her body relaxed in the shotgun seat, while Aiah gazed out the window, her thoughts racing. The streetlights flickered past, casting soft shadows inside the car.

“So, did you like the food?” Sheena finally asked, her voice light as she looked over at Gwen, the familiarity between them evident in her tone.

Gwen smiled. “Yeah, it was good. I think that dessert was your favorite part, though,” she teased, shooting Sheena a quick glance.

Sheena laughed, nudging Gwen playfully. “You know me too well.”

Aiah, seated in the back, tried to ignore the subtle pang in her chest. She knew they had years of history together, and there was no real reason to feel left out. But the way they bantered so easily, the way Sheena seemed to know everything about Gwen, made her feel like an outsider in her own moment. She shifted in her seat, wishing she could be a part of the conversation but not wanting to force herself in.

Sensing the growing silence, Gwen glanced at Aiah in the rearview mirror. “You okay back there, Aiah?” she asked, her voice soft and warm, as if she could feel the weight Aiah was carrying.

Aiah blinked and forced a small smile, meeting Gwen’s eyes through the mirror. “Yeah, I’m good,” she lied, her voice sounding far more casual than she felt.

But Gwen didn’t push. She offered a brief smile in return and continued driving. The tension in the car was subtle, but Aiah could feel it in the way her stomach knotted, her thoughts swirling with unspoken worries.

As they neared Sheena's place, the conversation slowed. Gwen pulled up in front of Sheena's apartment building.

"Thanks for the ride, Gwenny," Sheena said, unbuckling her seatbelt. She leaned over and gave Gwen a quick, familiar hug. Then, with a friendly smile toward Aiah in the back, she added, "It was nice meeting you tonight, Aiah. Hope we can hang out again soon."

"Yeah, same," Aiah replied with a polite smile, watching as Sheena stepped out of the car, waving goodbye before disappearing into her building.

As soon as Sheena was out of sight, the air inside the car shifted. The familiar banter and laughter that had dominated the night felt far away now. Gwen glanced at Aiah in the rearview mirror and gave her a soft smile. "Do you want to switch seats?" she asked gently.

Aiah hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure."

Gwen waited as Aiah stepped out of the back seat and slid into the front. Aiah fastened her seatbelt, now much closer to Gwen, and the quiet hum of the car filled the space between them as they pulled away from Sheena's building.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The tension Aiah had been feeling all night seemed to rise to the surface now that it was just the two of them. Gwen glanced over at her, sensing the shift in her mood, but said nothing, waiting for Aiah to speak first.

Aiah stared out the window, gathering her thoughts. The feeling of sitting beside Gwen where Sheena had been just moments ago weighed on her. She couldn’t ignore the tightness in her chest, the nagging jealousy that had simmered throughout the evening. She knew it wasn’t fair to feel this way—Sheena had been nothing but kind—but it didn’t change the fact that seeing Gwen and Sheena together had stirred something inside her.

Gwen reached over, her hand finding Aiah's. "You’ve been quiet," she said softly, her voice a mix of concern and understanding. "Everything okay?"

Aiah looked down at their joined hands, her thumb brushing gently over Gwen’s knuckles. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Yeah, I’m fine," she lied again, her voice barely above a whisper. But the truth was, she didn’t know how to put into words what she was feeling—that strange mix of insecurity, jealousy, and longing.

Gwen didn’t press her, she held onto Gwen’s hand a little tighter, hoping the silence between them could speak what words couldn’t.

As the drive neared its end, Aiah finally broke the lingering silence. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Do you want to come over to my place tonight? Maybe... stay over?”

Gwen glanced over at her, surprised by the request. She could sense there was something deeper behind Aiah’s words, something unspoken yet heavy. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

When they arrived at Aiah’s condo, the quietness between them continued, but it was no longer filled with uncertainty. They moved through familiar motions—taking off their shoes, settling into the warmth of the space they both had come to know. Aiah changed into something more comfortable, and Gwen followed suit, slipping into the relaxed atmosphere of the night. But there was an electricity in the air that hadn’t been there before.

They sat on the couch, close but not touching, the tension palpable. One thing led to another—an accidental brush of hands, a lingering glance—and soon, Aiah found herself leaning into Gwen, their lips meeting softly at first, then with a growing urgency. The weight of everything unsaid, the feelings they had both been holding back, came pouring out in that kiss. It wasn’t just desire, though that was there too. It was something deeper, something unspoken that had been simmering between them for months.

As their lips parted, Gwen pressed her forehead gently against Aiah’s, her breath warm against her skin. She looked into Aiah’s eyes, seeing the uncertainty still flickering there, the doubt that had been gnawing at her all night. Gwen cupped Aiah’s face in her hands, her voice soft but firm. “What we have... it’s something special, Aiah.”

Aiah's heart raced, her breath catching in her throat as she stared into Gwen’s eyes, searching for any hint of doubt. But there was none—only sincerity, only care. Gwen’s words wrapped around her like a balm, easing the insecurities that had been building since the night began. Aiah felt a wave of relief wash over her, the unspoken fears that had weighed her down starting to dissipate.

“You don’t have to worry,” Gwen continued, her thumb gently brushing Aiah’s cheek. “This... whatever it is between us, it’s real. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Aiah exhaled, leaning into Gwen’s touch, letting the reassurance sink in. She realized, in that moment, that she didn’t have to compete with Sheena or Colet or the past. What she had with Gwen was theirs—unique, intimate, and something worth holding onto.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the night settling around them. And for the first time in a long time, Aiah felt a sense of peace, knowing that what they had was indeed something special.

It was an ordinary day when Aiah's world tilted on its axis. She had been running a quick errand, her mind preoccupied with nothing in particular as she moved through the familiar streets. She wasn’t expecting much—a simple day, another quiet moment in her routine—but then she saw her.

There, across the sidewalk, stood the one person she never thought she’d see again: her mother.

Aiah froze. Her breath hitched in her throat, and for a moment, the world around her seemed to blur. Her mother, the woman who had walked out of her life when she was in high school, the same one who had etched words of cruelty deep into her soul—“no one will stay with you, Aiah. You’re a walking disaster.”

Those words haunted her still, and seeing her mother now, standing just a few feet away, brought them crashing back with an unbearable weight.

Her mother hadn’t noticed her yet, too busy rummaging through her bag. But then, as if sensing the tension in the air, she glanced up—and their eyes locked.

Aiah’s chest tightened. She hadn’t seen her mother in years. The years had changed her, sure, but the same sharpness was in her eyes, the same coldness that Aiah remembered all too well.

“Aiah,” her mother said, her voice smooth, almost casual, as if no time had passed. “It’s been a while.”

Aiah’s stomach churned. She wanted to turn and walk away, to avoid the confrontation she knew was coming, but her feet wouldn’t move. A strange numbness took over, and before she knew it, her mother had closed the distance between them.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” her mother said, glancing her up and down as if she were sizing her up, as if she hadn’t left without a word, leaving Aiah to pick up the pieces of her life alone.

Aiah swallowed, her throat dry. “I didn’t expect to see you either,” she replied, her voice tight, barely masking the storm of emotions brewing inside her.

Her mother smiled, a thin, almost dismissive smile. “You look... well.”

Aiah stiffened at the words, unsure whether they were genuine or just another veiled judgment. She hadn’t forgotten the venom her mother’s words once carried, how deeply they’d cut her. The pain was still there, lurking beneath the surface.

“What do you want?” Aiah asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Her mother raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by Aiah’s directness. “What? Can’t a mother check in on her daughter?”

Aiah’s hands balled into fists at her sides, anger and hurt bubbling to the surface. “A mother?” she echoed, her voice trembling. “You left. You haven’t been a mother to me in years.”

Her mother’s expression remained cool, unfazed. “I didn’t leave without reason, Aiah. You were always... difficult. Always in trouble, always a mess. I tried, but—”

“I was a kid!” Aiah cut in, her voice rising. “I was just a kid, and you abandoned me. You said no one would ever stay with me because I was a disaster. That’s what you left me with.”

For a moment, her mother said nothing. Her face remained unreadable, and that coldness Aiah had feared for so long returned, wrapping around them like a suffocating fog.

“And have I been wrong?” her mother asked, her tone biting. “Look at you now. Are you any different?”

Aiah felt like the ground beneath her was crumbling. Her worst fear, the one that had been gnawing at her for years, was now staring her in the face. She wasn’t sure how to respond—because in some ways, her mother’s words still echoed in her life. Every failed relationship, every moment of self-doubt, every time she pushed someone away, she heard her mother’s voice, telling her that she didn’t deserve better.

Aiah’s hands trembled, but she stood her ground. “Maybe I still have problems,” she said, her voice quieter now, “but I’m not the same person you left behind. I’m trying. And I have people in my life who care about me, even when I don’t always believe I deserve it.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “I hope for your sake, you figure it out, Aiah. You’ve always been a mess, and I’m not sure that’ll ever change.”

Aiah felt a wave of sadness wash over her, not for herself, but for the relationship that had never been what she needed it to be. She wanted to be unaffected, to walk away without a second thought. But the truth was, her mother’s words still hurt. They always had.

After the confrontation with her mother, Aiah found herself standing alone on the sidewalk, her mind reeling. She didn’t know what to feel—anger, sadness, confusion—it all swirled together in a haze of emotion. Her hands were still shaking, and her heart raced as if it couldn’t keep up with the flood of memories and words that had just ripped through her.

Without thinking, she pulled out her phone and dialed Gwen’s number. Gwen was the one person who always made her feel grounded, who had a way of making everything feel a little less heavy. As the phone rang, Aiah paced in place, biting her lip, hoping Gwen would pick up and calm the storm brewing inside her.

But the ringing continued, echoing in her ear, and eventually went to voicemail. Aiah stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over Gwen’s name before she called again. Another voicemail.

Come on, Gwen... I need you, she thought, her heart sinking further with each unanswered call.

She dialed again, and again. But the silence on the other end persisted. Gwen was at work, Aiah knew that, but the rational part of her mind couldn’t fight the panic rising in her chest. She needed to hear Gwen’s voice. She needed to know that someone—anyone—was there for her right now.

After the fifth call went to voicemail, Aiah’s hand trembled as she slid her phone back into her pocket. She felt the weight of loneliness press down on her, like she was falling into an old, familiar pit. She had always been alone when it came to her mother—always. And now, despite everything Gwen had promised, Aiah felt that same unbearable isolation creeping back in.

Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she stood there, unsure of what to do next. She wanted to scream, to break something, to lash out at the unfairness of it all. But instead, she just stood frozen in place, helpless and lost.

Aiah wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the coldness of the wind bite into her skin. She stared blankly ahead, not even sure where to go. The hurt her mother had left behind wasn’t new, but it was sharp, raw, and it felt like she was being ripped open all over again. And with Gwen unreachable, Aiah felt that familiar voice creeping back in—the one that told her she wasn’t worth staying for, that she was still, after all this time, just a walking disaster.

Taking a shaky breath, Aiah leaned against a nearby wall, her head hanging low. She wiped away the tears that had finally started to fall. The logical part of her knew that Gwen would call back when she could, that Gwen hadn’t abandoned her. But in that moment, it was hard to fight the fear that maybe—just maybe—she was back to being that same girl who believed no one would ever stay.

Aiah slid down the wall until she was sitting on the sidewalk, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her heart ached with a dull, familiar pain, the kind that felt heavy and hollow at the same time. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind—You’ve always been a mess... Are you any different?

Aiah’s breath came out in shaky bursts, her hands clenching into fists on her lap. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, waiting for Gwen’s call to come through, hoping that somehow, Gwen would magically sense that she was needed and make everything better. But the phone stayed silent, and with each passing minute, the hopelessness sank deeper into her chest.

She pulled out her phone again, staring at Gwen’s name on the screen. She typed a quick message, her fingers trembling as she wrote, "I really need you right now. Please message me when you can."

Aiah hit send and stared at the screen for a few more moments, hoping for that familiar vibration, that sign that Gwen was there. But nothing came. She sighed, sliding her phone back into her pocket, feeling more alone than ever.

What am I doing here? she thought, her mind racing with self-doubt. Why did I even try to reach out? I should’ve known better...

A surge of anger bubbled up inside her—anger at her mother, at the situation, at herself. She felt pathetic, sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for someone to save her when she should’ve known how to handle this on her own. But every time she tried to stand up, her legs felt like lead, as if her body refused to move, trapped in the heaviness of the moment.

She bit her lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood as she pressed down harder, trying to keep the tears from falling again. But it didn’t work. They slipped silently down her cheeks, warm against the cool breeze, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Get up, she told herself. Move.

Vista Café – 4:40 PM

Aiah didn’t know how she ended up there, but her feet had carried her to the same coffee shop where she had first met Gwen. The familiarity of the place washed over her as soon as she stepped inside, but this time, it was different. The café was crowded, full of people chatting, laughing, going about their lives. It felt suffocating, but Aiah pushed through the noise, gravitating toward the corner table where she had once sat alone late at night.

She sank into the chair, her body feeling heavy as if weighed down by the day’s events. The world around her blurred as she stared blankly at the wall, her mind still reeling from the encounter with her mother, the unanswered calls to Gwen, and the overwhelming sense of loneliness that had settled deep in her chest. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay. But the tightness in her throat and the ache in her chest were too much to hold back.

Aiah sat there, frozen, her thoughts swirling in a storm of self-doubt and pain. The noise of the crowded café faded into the background as she fought to keep her composure. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but the sudden shift in light in front of her caught her attention.

Someone was blocking her view.

Aiah blinked, her focus slowly coming back to the present, and her eyes landed on a girl standing in front of her. She had long, red hair that fell past her shoulders, thick eyebrows that framed her face, and she wore glasses that slightly magnified the kindness in her eyes. In her outstretched hand, the girl was holding a handkerchief.

"Hey," the girl said softly, her voice gentle but concerned. "You look like you could use this."

Aiah stared at the handkerchief for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The tears that had been threatening to fall seemed to come closer now, the kindness of the stranger making it harder to keep the dam from breaking. She swallowed hard, trying to regain some control, but her hands shook as she reached out to take the handkerchief.

“Thanks,” Aiah mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked down at the small piece of fabric in her hands, tracing its edges as she tried to hold herself together.

The girl didn’t leave right away. Instead, she pulled out the chair across from Aiah and sat down, not forcing conversation but not disappearing either. Her presence was quiet, calm, as if she understood that Aiah needed space.

Aiah wiped her eyes, but the tears she had been trying to stop began to fall freely now. She didn’t even care about the crowded café anymore or how many people might be watching. The girl didn’t say anything, just sat with her, letting the silence stretch between them.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Aiah finally admitted, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I just… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

The girl adjusted her glasses, her expression thoughtful but warm. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “Sometimes, you don’t need to know why you’re here. You just need to let yourself feel whatever it is you’re feeling.”

Aiah blinked through her tears, surprised by how easily the words touched something inside her. She hadn’t expected anyone to notice her, let alone care, but this stranger with the kind eyes and quiet presence seemed to understand something Aiah hadn’t even put into words herself.

“I’m Aiah,” she said, her voice small but steady as she wiped her cheeks.

The girl smiled gently, her hand still resting on the table between them. “I’m Mikha.”

Aiah’s phone buzzed on the table, she glanced down at the screen and saw Gwen’s name flash across it.

Gwen: “Hey, I’m so sorry for not picking up earlier. I was in a long meeting and didn’t have a chance to answer your calls. What’s going on? Are you okay? Where are you right now?”

Aiah stared at the message, her heart sinking. She had been waiting for Gwen to respond all day, desperate for her presence and her support. But now that the text had finally come, something inside her hesitated. Her emotions were too raw, too scattered, and the thought of explaining everything to Gwen right now felt like more than she could handle.

She unlocked her phone and started typing a response, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she struggled to find the right words. She wanted to tell Gwen everything—about her mother, the confrontation, the way her mother’s words had shattered her, and how lost she felt. But the knot in her throat tightened, and suddenly, it all felt too overwhelming.

Aiah closed her eyes, the sting of tears returning. She couldn’t face it right now. Not after sitting in the café for hours, breaking down in front of a stranger, and feeling like the world had caved in on her.

She locked her phone without responding to Gwen’s text. She couldn’t talk to Gwen, not right now. She didn’t know how to put her feelings into words, and the weight of explaining everything felt like too much.

Days passed, and Gwen didn’t stop reaching out.

Each morning, Aiah’s phone buzzed with new messages, Gwen’s name lighting up the screen again and again. The texts were a mixture of concern and confusion, each one tugging at Aiah’s already frayed nerves.

Gwen: “Hey. I’m still worried. Please just let me know you’re okay.”

Aiah read the messages, but she never replied. She couldn’t. Her emotions were too tangled, too heavy. After seeing her mother, after everything that had been dredged up from the past, she felt overwhelmed by the weight of it all. She couldn’t face Gwen, not when she barely knew how to face herself.

Another buzz.

Gwen: “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here. I just want to help.”

Aiah sat on her bed, staring blankly at her phone, the guilt creeping into her chest. She hated leaving Gwen in the dark, hated that she was causing her to worry. But every time she thought about responding, the words caught in her throat. How could she explain that the person she had been running from for years—the mother who had told her she was a disaster—had come back into her life, reigniting every insecurity she’d worked so hard to bury?

More messages.

Gwen: “Please, Aiah. Just talk to me. I miss you.”

Aiah’s heart twisted painfully. She missed Gwen too, but the thought of opening up, of letting Gwen see how broken she still felt inside, made her chest tighten. She wasn’t ready for that kind of vulnerability, not when she could barely process the mess swirling in her own head.

Each day, the messages kept coming. Sometimes short, sometimes longer, but always the same thread of concern running through them.

Gwen: “I’m not going anywhere, you know that, right? Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

But Aiah wasn’t ready. Not yet. She shoved her phone aside, trying to focus on anything else, but the weight of Gwen’s unanswered texts pressed down on her like a lead blanket. The silence between them stretched, and with every passing day, the distance grew.

On the fourth day of silence, Gwen sat on her couch, staring at her phone, waiting for a response that never came. The unanswered texts sat like a heavy weight in her chest, each one a reminder that Aiah was slipping further away, and Gwen couldn’t seem to reach her.

She scrolled through their previous conversations, the endless back-and-forths that had once filled her days with warmth and laughter. But now, all she had were unanswered texts and missed calls.

Gwen: “Aiah, where are you? I’m getting worried. Please just talk to me.”

Another message sent into the void. Gwen sighed, running her fingers through her hair. The uncertainty twisting in her stomach like a knot she couldn’t untangle. She had no idea what had triggered Aiah’s withdrawal, but she could sense something was wrong—deeply wrong.

Unable to take the silence any longer, she picked up her phone and dialed Sheena.

"Hey," Sheena answered after a few rings, her voice light but concerned when she heard Gwen’s tone. "What’s up? You sound off."

Gwen sighed heavily. "It’s Aiah. She’s been ghosting me for days. I’ve been texting her, calling her—nothing. It’s like she’s disappeared."

There was a pause on the other end as Sheena processed the information. "Have you gone to see her? Maybe she just needs someone there, you know?"

Gwen rubbed her temples, frustration creeping in. "I’ve thought about it, but I’m not sure. What if she’s not ready to see me? I don’t want to push her."

Sheena’s voice softened. "Gwenny, sometimes when people pull away, it’s because they don’t know how to ask for help. Maybe showing up is exactly what she needs right now. You won’t know unless you go."

Gwen bit her lip, considering Sheena’s words. "But what if she doesn’t want to see me? What if it’s something bigger than just needing space?"

"You won’t know until you try," Sheena said gently. "Go to her place. If she’s not there, you can figure it out. But at least she’ll know you’re trying."

The idea of showing up at Aiah’s place unannounced made Gwen nervous, but the thought of doing nothing, of waiting in silence, made her stomach churn. She knew Sheena was right. Sitting around, hoping for a text, wasn’t working. She had to do something.

"Okay," Gwen finally said, determination creeping into her voice. "I’ll go to her place. Maybe you’re right. Maybe she just needs me to be there."

"Good. Let me know what happens, okay?" Sheena sighed.

"Yeah," Gwen said, her nerves fluttering. "I will."

Later that evening, Gwen stood in front of Aiah’s front door, her heart pounding in her chest. She had come straight from work, her mind racing with scenarios of what she might find—or not find.

She took a deep breath and knocked, her knuckles rapping lightly at first, then harder when there was no answer.

Nothing.

Gwen’s heart sank. She knocked again, hoping Aiah was just inside, maybe lost in thought or sleeping. But still, no response.

She leaned against the doorframe, frustration and worry washing over her. Where could she be?

Gwen’s heart clenched. Aiah wasn’t just avoiding her calls—she wasn’t even home. Where was she?

She lingered by the door for a few more moments, her mind racing. Aiah wasn’t here, and she had no idea where to look next. She pulled out her phone again, staring at the last unanswered text she’d sent.

Gwen: "Aiah, please. Just let me know you’re okay."

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, tempted to send another message, but what more could she say that she hadn’t already?

She sighed and leaned her head against the door, feeling helpless. Aiah was out there, somewhere, and Gwen had no way of knowing if she was okay. All she could do was keep trying, keep reaching out.

Gwen sat on the edge of her bed, the fading light casting soft shadows across the room. Her phone lay in her hands, heavy and cold as she scrolled through the messages she had sent Aiah over the past few days. All unanswered. With each swipe, her heart sank a little deeper, the silence from Aiah wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket.

She stopped at the last message Aiah had sent before everything went quiet: "I really need you right now. Please message me when you can."

Gwen’s chest tightened as she read the words again. I really need you right now. The message that had gone unnoticed in the middle of an important meeting. She hadn’t even seen it until hours later, and by the time she had, Aiah was already gone—silent, unreachable. Gwen had meant to get back to her as soon as she could, but she hadn’t realized how urgent it was. Not until it was too late.

Her breath hitched as she scrolled back, replaying that day in her mind. The missed calls, the unread messages, all sitting on her phone while she was caught up in work. I should have known, she thought, guilt tightening in her stomach. She had promised Aiah she would always be there, no matter what, and yet when Aiah needed her the most, she had been nowhere to be found.

Gwen ran a hand through her hair, frustration boiling up inside her. How could I have missed it.

She stared at her phone, Aiah’s message glowing on the screen like a constant reminder of her failure. She had always told Aiah that she could rely on her, that she wouldn’t leave like others had, but now—when Aiah had reached out for help—she hadn’t been there.

"I’m sorry," Gwen whispered to herself, her voice cracking in the empty room. "I should’ve been there for you."

Her eyes skimmed over older messages, ones filled with lighthearted conversations, inside jokes, and moments that now felt so far away. She’d give anything to go back to that, to fix what had gone wrong, but Aiah wasn’t answering. Gwen had sent message after message, but each one was met with the same unbearable silence.

The guilt creeped out on her. She could almost see Aiah sitting alone somewhere, feeling abandoned, maybe even thinking Gwen didn’t care enough to pick up the phone. The thought was like a knife twisting in her chest.

“I promised you,” Gwen murmured, tears welling in her eyes. She had meant every word of that promise, but now it felt empty. Aiah had needed her, and she hadn’t been there.

She bit her lip, her throat tightening as emotions flooded her. She wanted nothing more than to hear Aiah’s voice, to tell her that nothing had changed, that she still cared, that she was still here. More than anything, she wanted to tell Aiah that she loved her. It had taken her so long to admit that to herself, to realize that her feelings were more than just friendship. She had spent weeks gathering the courage to have that conversation with Aiah—to tell her what she truly meant to her.

But now, Aiah had gone quiet. The silence between them was deafening, and Gwen feared she had lost her chance.

"I love you," she whispered into the stillness, her words falling into the empty room. She had waited for the right moment, for a time when they could sit and talk about what was between them. But now, that moment seemed like it might never come.

Gwen scrolled to the most recent message she had sent, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. She didn’t know what more she could say. She had already apologized, already pleaded for Aiah to reach out. But her heart wouldn’t let her stop trying.

With trembling fingers, she typed another message.

Gwen: "Aiah, I’m so sorry for not being there when you needed me. I didn’t know, and I hate that I wasn’t there for you. Please, just tell me where you are. I’m still here. I always will be. Nothing’s changed. I just need to know you’re okay."

She hesitated for a moment before pressing send, watching the message disappear into the void. She wiped away a tear as it slid down her cheek, the emptiness of the unanswered silence sitting like a weight on her chest.

Azure Mall – 2:40 PM

It had been a week since Gwen had last heard from Aiah, and the silence had become unbearable. She had spent her days lost in thought, her mind constantly drifting back to Aiah—wondering where she was and if she ever thought about Gwen. Today, Sheena had dragged her to the mall, hoping to lift her spirits, but even as they strolled through the shops, Gwen’s thoughts kept wandering.

They were just about to leave when Sheena nudged her. "Hey, isn’t that Aiah?"

Gwen’s heart skipped a beat, her head snapping in the direction Sheena pointed. Sure enough, there was Aiah, standing by one of the stores, laughing with someone Gwen didn’t recognize. The girl had long red hair and was standing close, too close for Gwen’s comfort. They looked happy together, their shared laughter filling the space between them.

Gwen felt her stomach tighten. She didn’t know who this girl was, but the sight of Aiah smiling so effortlessly with someone else felt like a punch to the gut. Gwen hadn’t seen that smile in a while, not since the last time they were together.

She stood frozen in place, her mind racing. She wanted to walk up to Aiah, to say something—anything—but she didn’t know what. The image of Aiah laughing with someone else stung more than she expected.

Then, as if sensing her, Aiah glanced up—and their eyes met. The laughter faded from Aiah’s face instantly, replaced with a look of shock. For a moment, neither of them moved, caught in the intensity of the moment.

Gwen’s expression remained neutral, though her heart was pounding. She didn’t know what to say or how to react. She couldn’t read Aiah’s face entirely, but she saw the guilt flickering behind her eyes.

The girl beside Aiah turned to follow her gaze, glancing between Gwen and Aiah, confused.

Gwen swallowed hard, but kept her face composed. No matter what she felt inside, she wasn’t going to break. Not here. Not now.

Aiah took a small step forward as if she was about to say something, but she hesitated. Gwen could see it—the uncertainty, the guilt—but it didn’t matter now.

Gwen nodded slightly, her lips pressed together in a tight line, before turning to Sheena. "Let’s go."

Sheena glanced at Aiah, then back at Gwen. She could feel the tension but didn’t push. "Okay."

As they walked away, Gwen didn’t look back. She could feel Aiah’s eyes on her, but she didn’t let it stop her. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she kept moving forward, trying to ignore the ache in her chest.

Sheena put a hand on her shoulder as they exited the mall, her voice gentle. "You okay?"

Gwen’s throat tightened. She wanted to say yes, to pretend everything was fine, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she just nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I’m fine."

But deep down, she knew she wasn’t.

That night, after Gwen had seen Aiah at the mall with someone she didn’t recognize, her mind refused to settle. She kept replaying the moment over and over—the way Aiah had been laughing with the girl. The ache in her chest had only grown as the hours passed.

Gwen was at home, sitting in her dimly lit living room, trying to distract herself with a show on TV. Sheena was there, lounging on the other end of the couch, scrolling through her phone. But no matter how hard Gwen tried to focus on anything else, the image of Aiah with that girl kept intruding.

Then, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Gwen glanced at it, her heart sinking when she saw Aiah’s name flash on the screen.

Aiah: "Can we talk?"

The message was simple, yet it hit Gwen like a punch to the gut. Her first instinct was to respond, to ask what Aiah wanted, to finally get the answers she deserved after being left in the dark for so long. But her fingers hovered over the screen, and something inside her stopped her from typing back.

"Everything okay?" Sheena asked, noticing Gwen’s change in expression.

Gwen sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It’s Aiah. She just texted me."

Sheena frowned, sitting up. "Now? After everything?"

Gwen nodded, her eyes fixed on the message. "Yeah... after a week of radio silence. After I saw her with someone else today."

Sheena’s expression shifted, a mix of concern and frustration. "And what does she want?"

"She wants to talk," Gwen muttered, still staring at the screen. "But I don’t know if I want to anymore. I waited for her all week. I tried reaching out, texting, calling—nothing. And now she’s texting me, like I didn’t just see her laughing with someone else today."

Sheena shook her head in disbelief. "That’s not fair to you, Gwenny. She can’t just ignore you for a week and then expect you to drop everything when she’s ready to talk."

"I know," Gwen said softly, locking her phone and setting it back on the table. "But it still hurts, you know? I don’t even know who that girl was, and seeing them together like that, after everything... it’s like none of what we had mattered."

Sheena scooted closer, her tone firm but caring. "You have every right to be upset, Gwenny. You were there for her, and she just disappeared on you when you needed her. Don’t feel like you owe her anything, especially not after seeing her with someone else."

Gwen leaned back against the couch, feeling the weight of Sheena’s words settle in. She had been there for Aiah—constantly. And when Aiah had gone silent, Gwen had given her space, thinking maybe she needed time to sort things out. But seeing her at the mall, laughing with someone new, felt like a betrayal Gwen wasn’t prepared for.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message from Aiah.

Aiah: "I’ll explain everything. Please, can we just talk?"

Gwen swallowed hard, her emotions tangled between wanting to understand and feeling the sting of disappointment. She had promised Aiah that she would always be there for her, but right now, she wasn’t sure she could be. Not after being left in the dark, not after seeing her with someone else.

"I don’t know what to do, She," Gwen whispered, rubbing her temples. "I’ve always been there for her. I’ve put up with so much, hoping it would work out, but this... this feels different."

Sheena gave her a sympathetic look. "You don’t have to respond tonight, Gwenny. You need to take care of yourself first. Aiah’s been pulling you along for a while, and you deserve better than that. She can wait."

Gwen nodded, though the weight of Aiah’s messages still pressed on her chest. "I just... I thought what we had was different. Special. But now I’m not so sure."

Sheena reached over, giving Gwen’s hand a reassuring squeeze. "You deserve someone who’s going to treat you with the same care you give them. If she can’t even do that, then maybe it’s time to think about what’s best for you."

As the night wore on, Gwen found herself staring at her phone again, Aiah’s unread messages still waiting. She could feel the tug of her heart, wanting to respond, wanting to understand—but for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she should.

The next day, Gwen’s phone kept buzzing with missed calls and texts from Aiah. It had been like this since the night before when they’d seen each other at the mall. Each time Aiah’s name flashed on the screen, Gwen’s heart twisted, but she hesitated, unsure of what to do. The image of Aiah laughing with someone else still played in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the hurt.

Sheena sat across from Gwen in their usual café, watching as another missed call lit up Gwen’s phone. "She’s… persistent," Sheena remarked gently.

Gwen sighed, staring at the phone. "Yeah, she is. But I don’t know if I’m ready to talk."

"You should at least hear her out," Sheena suggested. "You’ve been waiting for her to explain things, haven’t you?"

Another buzz. Another missed call.

Gwen’s resolve finally cracked, and she answered the phone, bringing it to her ear. "Aiah?"

"Gwen, please," Aiah’s voice was filled with desperation. "I need to talk to you. Can we meet?"

Gwen’s chest tightened. She had so many questions, so many emotions tangled up inside her, but the memory of seeing Aiah with someone else at the mall still hurt deeply.

"Who was that girl I saw you with yesterday?" Gwen asked, her voice cold, unable to hide the hurt.

There was a pause on the other end, and Aiah’s breath caught. "Her name’s Mikha. She was the only one there for me when I needed someone."

Gwen felt like the air had been knocked out of her. "She was there for you?" she repeated, her voice rising with frustration. "Aiah, I tried to be there for you! That day you were calling me nonstop, I was in an important meeting. But the moment I was free, I called you back, I messaged you. You didn’t respond. And now you’re telling me you turned to someone else because she was there?"

There was nothing but silence on the other end, only deepening Gwen’s anger and hurt.

"I didn’t know what to do," Aiah finally said softly. "I was falling apart. I went to the coffee shop where we always go, hoping I could calm down. And then Mikha was there. She noticed something was wrong, and I just… I needed someone to talk to."

Gwen closed her eyes, trying to process the sting of Aiah's words. "So, you went to our spot, and instead of waiting for me, you talked to someone else?" Her voice was tight with pain.

"Gwen, it wasn’t like that," Aiah pleaded. "I wasn’t trying to replace you. I was a mess, and she was there. I wasn’t thinking clearly."

"You didn’t wait for me," Gwen said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "I promised you I’d be there for you, Aiah, and the one time I couldn’t answer right away, you let someone else step in."

"I’m sorry," Aiah whispered, her voice cracking. "I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just didn’t know what else to do. Please, can we meet? I need to explain everything."

Gwen’s mind raced. She wanted answers, wanted to understand what had really happened, but the image of Aiah with Mikha wouldn’t leave her head. Aiah had chosen someone else to lean on, and it hurt in ways she couldn’t describe.

"I don’t know, Aiah," Gwen said after a pause, her voice shaky. "I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Seeing you with someone else, after everything, made me question what we had."

"Gwen, please," Aiah’s voice broke. "It wasn’t what it looked like. She’s just someone who happened to be there. Please, believe me."

Gwen felt a wave of conflicting emotions—anger, confusion, longing. She wanted to believe Aiah, to trust that things weren’t as bad as they seemed, but the hurt still lingered.

"I don’t know if I can do this right now, Aiah," Gwen finally said, her voice barely steady. "You hurt me. And I’m not sure if I’m ready to face that yet."

There was a long silence, Aiah’s regret palpable even through the phone. "I’ll give you time," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But please, know that I never meant to hurt you.

Gwen stared at the phone for a moment before, with a shaky breath, she quietly dropped the call, ending it without another word. She set her phone down, feeling the weight of everything between them.

That night, Aiah couldn’t stop crying. After Gwen dropped the call, the silence that followed was so painful. Her mind spiraled with guilt, regret, and a deep sense of loss. She buried her face in her pillow, trying to muffle her sobs, but the weight of it all was unbearable. The emotions she had tried so hard to keep at bay came crashing down on her, leaving her feeling completely broken.

She had promised herself she wouldn't let this happen again, that she wouldn't be consumed by these emotions. But here she was, feeling the same hurt, regret, and overwhelming sadness from every failed relationship and bad decision. The words her mother had said so long ago—calling her a disaster—echoed in her head, and for a moment, she believed them. Maybe she was doomed to push people away.

Aiah hated that she had turned to Mikha when she should have waited for Gwen. She hated herself for acting out of fear instead of trusting Gwen to be there, even though she knew deep down that Gwen had always shown up for her. Now, it felt like she had ruined everything, and the one person who had made her feel truly loved was slipping away.

Tears fell uncontrollably as Aiah lay there, her thoughts a mess of flashbacks and regrets. She whispered into the empty room, “Please, don’t leave me.” But there was no answer, only the suffocating quiet.

Despite telling Gwen she’d give her time, Aiah couldn’t push away the fear of losing her. She spent the night in restless torment, unable to shake the sinking feeling that she was losing the one person who made her feel worthy of love.

The next morning, her eyes red and swollen from crying, Aiah made a decision. She couldn’t just sit there and wait. She needed to do something, to try to fix things before it was too late. Without much thought, Aiah decided to go to Gwen’s place. She had no idea what she would say, but she knew she couldn’t let Gwen go without trying.

Gwen’s Condo – 4:45 PM

Aiah stood in front of Gwen’s door, her nerves a jumbled mess. When Gwen finally opened the door, her face was unreadable, but the hurt was unmistakable in her eyes. Aiah swallowed hard and stepped inside, the tension between them palpable.

“I need to explain everything,” Aiah started, her voice trembling.

Gwen stood with her arms crossed, a few feet away, clearly on guard. "Go on, then."

Aiah sat down on the edge of the couch, staring at her hands. “It’s not just about Mikha,” she began. “I— I ran into my mom.”

Gwen's eyes widened in surprise, but she remained silent, waiting for more.

“It was after I couldn’t reach you that day,” Aiah continued, her voice breaking. “I was overwhelmed. Seeing her again after everything—after she left me, after telling me no one would ever stay with me. It broke me all over again. I didn’t know how to process it.”

Gwen’s expression softened slightly, but she still didn’t move closer. Aiah took a deep breath, her voice shaking. “I didn’t know who to turn to. I went to the coffee shop to clear my head, and that’s when I met Mikha. She didn’t know anything about my past, but she was there when I felt like I was falling apart. And for that moment, I let her be there.”

Gwen's expression hardened at the mention of Mikha. “So, while I was trying to reach you, you were with her?”

Aiah nodded, tears already forming. “She was there when I was falling apart. I didn’t plan any of it, I swear. But I was so lost, Gwen, and she was the only person there at that moment.”

Gwen scoffed, her arms dropping to her sides. “The only person? Aiah, I was calling you back as soon as I could! I was there. You just didn’t wait long enough for me.”

The pain in Gwen’s voice made Aiah’s chest tighten. “I’m sorry. I panicked. I know I should’ve waited for you. I shouldn’t have turned to her, but I didn’t know what to do.”

Gwen shook her head, her eyes now glossed with tears. “Do you have any idea how much that hurt? Seeing you with her, laughing, while I’ve been here wondering why you shut me out? You didn’t just disappear; you were with someone else.”

Aiah stood up, taking a step closer to Gwen, but Gwen backed away. “I’m sorry,” Aiah whispered again, tears now streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry for everything. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. Please, Gwen… can’t we go back to how we were?”

Gwen wiped a tear from her cheek, her voice shaky. “You want to go back? How do we go back after this, Aiah? You didn’t trust me enough to let me in. And now I have to stand here and hear that, while I was blaming myself for not being there, you were with Mikha? I—” She paused, choking on her words. “I love you, Aiah. I really do. But after everything that’s happened this past week… I don’t even know how to move forward.”

Aiah cried harder, reaching out for Gwen. “Please. I love you too. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I was scared—scared of losing you, scared of being left again. I just… made the wrong choices.”

Gwen’s breath hitched as she wiped her eyes, her voice breaking. “And now I’m scared too. Scared of what this all means. Scared that maybe you don’t trust me enough to handle what you’re going through.”

They stood there, both of them crying, the weight of everything crashing down on them. Aiah’s apologies felt endless, but Gwen wasn’t responding anymore, her face now unreadable again.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Gwen broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “Aiah, I need you to leave.”

Aiah’s face twisted in anguish. “Gwen, please—”

“Leave,” Gwen repeated, her tone firm but filled with sorrow. “I can’t do this right now.”

Aiah opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself. She could see the pain on Gwen’s face, and she knew she couldn’t push anymore. Slowly, she nodded, wiping her tears with the back of her hand as she grabbed her things.

She walked to the door, glancing back one last time at Gwen, who was standing still, her arms now wrapped around herself. “I’m so sorry,” Aiah whispered one more time before stepping out, closing the door softly behind her.

Once the door clicked shut, Gwen collapsed onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. The apartment felt too quiet, too heavy, as if the weight of their entire relationship had just pressed down all at once.

Days later, Gwen was at her office, trying to focus on work but continuously distracted by thoughts of Aiah. Her phone lit up with missed calls and texts from Aiah, each one tugging at her heart. At the same time, Aiah was back in her condo, pacing, feeling the suffocating weight of silence.

Sitting at her desk, Gwen’s fingers hovered over her phone, reading the latest message from Aiah: “I miss you. I need you. Let’s talk again, please.”

Gwen sighed, staring out of the office window. Her chest felt tight. She loved Aiah, but the betrayal of seeing her with Mikha, and how Aiah had leaned on someone else, still stung deeply. She scrolled back to older messages—ones from happier times—and felt a wave of sadness.

Sheena knocked on her office door, breaking her reverie. “You’ve been off all week. Want to talk?”

Gwen bit her lip, unsure. “I just don’t know if I can trust her again,” she admitted softly, looking up at her friend. “I’ve given everything. What if it’s not enough?”

Sheena gave her a knowing look. “You’ll never know unless you talk to her.”

Gwen didn’t respond, but Sheena’s words weighed heavily on her mind.

At the same time, Aiah stood in front of her condo window, her eyes red from crying, replaying the confrontation with Gwen over and over in her mind. She had sent countless messages, each one expressing her love, regret, and need to make things right, but nothing seemed to break through Gwen’s silence.

Aiah clutched the phone tightly, her emotions swinging between guilt and desperation. She opened the messages again, hoping to find a glimmer of hope from Gwen, but there was still no reply. Her chest tightened, and she muttered to herself, “I messed everything up. I should have handled it better.”

Her thoughts drifted back to Mikha, and how everything had spiraled from that moment. She knew Mikha had only been a brief distraction, a way to escape her pain, but it had cost her the one person who truly mattered.

Desperate, Aiah decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She grabbed her coat and keys, determined to confront Gwen one more time—face-to-face. “I can’t lose her,” she whispered under her breath, heading for the door. "Not like this."

Gwen’s Condo – 2:15 PM

Aiah showed up at Gwen’s condo again, hoping Gwen might talk to her this time. She was nervous but determined, clutching a small bouquet of tulips—Gwen’s favorite.

Aiah knocked on the door several times, her heart pounding louder with each unanswered knock. She tried calling Gwen, leaving yet another voicemail. “Please, Gwen, I just need to talk to you. I’m outside. I’m so sorry. Please open the door.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, struggling to keep the tears from falling.

Unbeknownst to Aiah, Gwen was inside, sitting on the floor behind the door, knees pulled to her chest. She listened as the voicemail echoed through her silent condo, each word hitting her like a wave. Tears streaked her face as she stared at the door, her hand hovering just inches from the knob. Her heart raced, torn between the love she still felt and the sharp sting of betrayal. The weight of everything pressed down on her, making her feel like she couldn’t move. She couldn’t face Aiah, not now, not yet.

Aiah waited outside, sitting on the cold steps with the tulips resting beside her. She stared at the door, silently praying it would open, that Gwen would give her another chance. The minutes dragged on, each one a painful reminder that Gwen might never forgive her. The quiet of the hallway seemed to amplify the ache in her chest.

After what felt like hours, Aiah stood, wiping the tears that had fallen. She looked at the door one last time, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry." With a heavy heart, she picked up the flowers and walked away, feeling the weight of her mistakes with every step.

A week had passed since the last time Aiah stood outside Gwen’s door, leaving nothing but a voicemail and a trail of unsaid apologies. Both of them were locked in their own world of yearning, yet neither had the courage to break the silence that now seemed louder than their connection.

Gwen sat on her couch, fingers grazing over the screen of her phone. Aiah’s number was right there—she had typed a message, "I miss you, too," countless times, but never pressed send. She stared at the screen, feeling the weight of every word she hadn’t said. She wanted to hear Aiah's voice. She missed their late-night talks, Aiah’s hand wrapped around hers, the way Aiah looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

But fear held her back. What if she crossed that line again, only to be hurt again? She had given Aiah everything, and it still hadn’t been enough.

On the other side of the city, Aiah sat on her bed, scrolling through old voice messages Gwen had left, the warmth in her voice a distant memory. Her chest tightened with every laugh, every sweet word Gwen had sent her when things were good. She had typed out countless messages, apologizing again, saying she missed her, begging for another chance. But she couldn’t bring herself to send any of them. She was terrified of more rejection, of being met with Gwen’s silence. She couldn’t bear to hurt Gwen anymore, but she couldn’t stand the distance between them either.

Aiah lay back, staring at the ceiling, running her hands over her face. The regret, the love, the need to hold Gwen again—it was overwhelming. She’d never wanted someone so badly, yet the fear of breaking Gwen's heart again kept her paralyzed.

Both of them, were stuck in the same loop. They ached for each other. They thought about the what-ifs, but the fear of repeating their mistakes held them back from taking that next step.

Restaurant – 12:45 PM

At a cozy restaurant, Gwen and Sheena sat across from each other at a small table, enjoying their lunch break. The place was bustling with the lunchtime crowd, but their conversation was intimate and quiet.

Sheena took a sip of her coffee, her gaze fixed on Gwen. "You’ve been really distant lately," she said gently, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "I can see it’s been hard on you."

Gwen glanced up, her eyes tired. She stirred her food absently, her mind clearly elsewhere. "I just don’t know what to do. Aiah and I… we’re in this weird place. I love her, but I’m scared of getting hurt again."

Sheena’s fingers played with the edge of her napkin, her voice soft but determined. "You know, Gwen, I think you should talk to Aiah. I can see you’re struggling, and it’s clear she wants to fix things, too."

Gwen looked at her, her heart heavy. "I just don’t want to make the same mistakes. What if I reach out, and it doesn’t work? What if it makes things worse?"

Sheena nodded, her expression understanding. "I know it’s scary. But you have to understand that sometimes taking a risk is the only way to find out if things can get better. You owe it to yourself and to Aiah to at least try."

Gwen sighed, her gaze dropping to her plate. "I just wish things were simpler. I hate feeling like this—caught between wanting to fix things and being scared of the consequences."

Sheena reached across the table, placing a comforting hand over Gwen's. "Sometimes, the hardest part is taking that first step. But if you don’t, you might end up regretting it."

Gwen looked up, her eyes meeting Sheena’s. She could see the sincerity in her friend's eyes, and it gave her pause. "You’re right. I know I need to talk to Aiah. It’s just… hard."

Sheena gave her a reassuring smile. "I know. But you’re stronger than you think. And even though it’s tough, maybe, it’s worth trying."

Gwen squeezed Sheena’s hand, a mixture of gratitude and sadness in her expression. "Thank you, Sheena. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me."

Later that night, Gwen sat on her bed, her phone resting on her lap as she stared at the screen. The weight of the day’s conversation with Sheena lingered in her mind, and she felt a mix of resolve and apprehension. After much contemplation, she knew what she needed to do.

She took a deep breath and opened a new message to Aiah. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she started typing.

Gwen: Hey, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking tonight. I know we’ve been through a lot, but I think we need to talk. Can we meet at the park near the café where we first met?

Park – 9:28 PM

Gwen walked down the path leading to the park, each step feeling heavier than the last. The moonlight gently illuminated the area, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside her.

As she reached the swings, she saw Aiah sitting on one of them, her posture hunched and her hands clasped together tightly. Aiah's head was bowed, and her dark hair fell forward, obscuring her face. The sight of her like this made Gwen’s stomach tie in knots.

Gwen took a deep breath and approached cautiously, each step deliberates as she tried to steady her nerves. The crunch of gravel under her feet seemed louder in the stillness of the night.

When she was close enough, she cleared her throat softly. “Aiah?” she called out gently, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Aiah’s head lifted slowly, and she turned to face Gwen. Her eyes were red, and a sheen of tears still lingered on her lashes. Seeing Aiah in this state made Gwen’s heart ache even more.

“Hey,” Gwen said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m really glad you came.”

Aiah looked at Gwen with a mix of relief and apprehension. She slowly stood up from the swing, her movements tentative. “Thank you for reaching out,” she said, her voice catching. “I’ve been thinking about everything... and I’m so sorry.”

Aiah’s eyes pleaded with Gwen’s, her tears spilling freely now. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ll be better, I promise. Please don’t leave me.”

Gwen shook her head, her own tears threatening to spill. “Aiah, I’ve been thinking a lot too. I’ve tried to understand everything that’s happened between us. And I realize now that... we’re just not okay.”

Aiah’s face crumpled, her despair visible. “Please, Gwen. I know I’ve messed up, but we can fix this. We can make this work.”

The desperation in Aiah’s voice cut through Gwen like a knife. Aiah fell to her knees in front of Gwen, clutching at her hands. “I’ll do anything, Gwen. Just please stay.”

Gwen knelt down as well, facing Aiah directly. “We’re both carrying so much baggage,” Gwen explained, her voice breaking. “It’s been too hard to fight for what we have when we’re both so clearly not okay individually. We’re colliding, and it’s tearing us apart.”

Aiah’s sobs grew louder, her body shaking with the intensity of her grief. “I know I’ve hurt you. I’m so sorry. But we can fix this. I promise. Just don’t leave me like this.”

Gwen’s voice trembled as she spoke, her heart breaking with each word. “I can’t keep fighting for us when we’re both so broken. We need to heal individually before we can think about being together.”

With a shaking hand, Gwen gently cupped Aiah’s tear-streaked face, her thumb brushing over Aiah’s wet cheek. “I love you so much,” she said softly, her voice breaking, “but I need to let go for now.”

Gwen leaned in, pressing her lips gently against Aiah’s for the last time. The kiss was tender, filled with all the love and sorrow she felt, a final, bittersweet goodbye. 

“I hope you find the peace you’re looking for,” Gwen whispered, her voice barely audible over Aiah’s quiet sobs. “I need to let go, and so do you.”

As Gwen stood up, each step felt like it was tearing her apart. She could hear Aiah’s sobs behind her, each one a sharp reminder of the love they once shared. The pain of leaving Aiah behind was almost too much to bear, but Gwen knew it was necessary for both of them to heal. The night air felt colder now, and as she walked away, the emptiness of their broken relationship settled heavily on her shoulders.

From the very beginning, Gwen had always wondered what it felt like to be truly loved.

She spent years imagining a love that would make her feel complete, like someone had finally chosen her above all else. And with Aiah, she had glimpsed of that love—a love that made her feel alive, but also left her vulnerable to the pain of betrayal and uncertainty.

But sometimes, love wasn’t just about being chosen by someone else; it was about choosing yourself.

Gwen had to face the truth that no one could fill the emptiness inside her except her own self-worth. She realized that real love starts from within, and the love she had longed for was something she could ultimately offer herself.

On the other hand, Aiah had always wondered what it felt like to be okay.

To feel like she wasn’t the "walking disaster" her mother had labeled her as, to believe she wasn’t destined to always mess things up. With Gwen, she had experienced moments of peace and happiness, but her unresolved wounds had driven her to self-sabotage.

Sometimes, you need to confront your own patterns, your own fears, and learn how to be okay without relying on someone else to fix you.

Aiah learned that being okay didn’t come from external validation, but from healing the parts of herself she had been avoiding for so long.

Both had sought something they believed could only come from each other. Little did they know, the answers lay within themselves all along.

two years later

Vista Café – 1:30 PM

On a crisp Wednesday afternoon, Aiah wandered into the same coffee shop where she had first met Gwen. Running errands and needing a quick coffee break, she barely noticed the crowd around her, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she felt a splash of cold and looked down to see iced coffee staining her clothes. The guy who had bumped into her hurriedly apologized and left, leaving Aiah standing there, feeling a wave of frustration and embarrassment

As she fumbled with a napkin, trying to clean up the mess, a soft, familiar voice cut through her dismay.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

Aiah looked up to see Gwen standing in front of her, a warm smile on her face, holding out a tissue. The familiarity of Gwen’s smile, the softness in her voice, and the kindness in her eyes hit Aiah with a wave of nostalgia.

Aiah’s heart raced as she met Gwen’s gaze. “Gwen?”

Gwen’s smile widened, a mixture of warmth and affection in her eyes. “Aiah.”

The world seemed to pause as they stood there, the noise of the coffee shop fading into the background. Gwen’s smile softened as she took a step closer.

Aiah’s breath caught as she looked at Gwen, the familiar warmth of her presence stirring something deep inside her. Her heart ached with both longing and hope.

Gwen leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving Aiah’s. “It’s good to see you again,” she whispered, her voice a soft caress.

Aiah’s eyes glistened with tears, her emotions a blend of joy and nostalgia. She managed a trembling smile.

“It’s good to see you again too.”

Gwen’s smile grew tender and warm.

fin.