Page 35

I locked myself in my room.

I had this empty feeling inside, and nothing could fill it—not sleep, not art, not even the thought of Maya.

And it was all my fault.

The only thing I couldn't turn off was my mind. It kept spinning—hours and hours of overthinking, second-guessing, and endless scenarios.

And eventually, I landed on a conclusion I really didn't want to accept.

But it was what was best for Maya.

Tears streamed down my face, soaking the pillow beneath me. And I let them all out. Until eventually, it felt like there was nothing left to cry.

Someone knocked on my door, and not for a second did I think it was Maya. I knew it couldn't be.

"Grace, it's mom."

She kept knocking so much that I had no choice but to open it.

"Can you please tell me what happened to you, Grace?" Her expression was worried as her eyes scanned my face.

I turned back to the bed, buried my face in the pillow, and she gently stroked my back.

"Mom, I have to leave," my voice cracked. "I have to go back to Ohio."

The weight of my own words felt suffocating.

But it's the best choice for Maya.

Even if it meant breaking my own heart in the process.

It's too painful to think that she probably feels the same as me right now.

I heard my mom sighing. "Grace, I think you're speaking without thinking."

"No—no, I did think about it," I quickly replied, my desperation taking over. My words rushed out, as if I was trying to convince myself.

"You're overthinking, Grace," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "But you're not thinking it through. Not all the way."

I shook my head, my chest tightening.

Deep down, I knew my mom was right, and I knew I was getting lost in this. But... I can't stop myself.

"What's really going on, Grace? Don't shut yourself off again..."

Yes, I'm doing it. Shutting down again.

"I just... don't know how to explain it," I exhaled deeply. "I-I don't even know what's going on in my head right now..." I trailed off, my words not even making sense anymore.

"Is this about Maya?"

I firmly shook my head. "She didn't do anything wrong. It's all on me."

My mom hesitated at my words, then helped me sit up in bed.

"You and Maya are more alike than you think, Grace. You both have similar fragilities..." my mom squeezed my hand.

I nodded, wordlessly.

She furrowed her brow. "I think you two are just having a communication issue."

The words hit harder than I expected.

A communication issue.

Every unspoken word between us.

Every silence that stretched too long.

Every look that said too much.

That's the problem.

We care—we just speak different languages.

We show it in ways the other doesn't always understand.

It's me, breaking apart in silence. It's her, closing off.

"Is going back to Ohio really what you want, Grace? Think about what you truly desire."

I can't fulfill my desire.

I had pushed Maya away and caused her pain because of my fears, and now she won't be able to trust me anymore.

She even said the word 'end,' even though it never even got to start.

"Doesn't matter what I desire..." I murmured.

"Don't sabotage yourself just because you don't believe you deserve better, Grace," my mom emphasized.

I dug my nails into my palms as her words sank in. Believing them was hard—and the faded scars on my arms could testify to that.

I hugged my mom, and she let out a sigh. "I'll give you some time to think it over."

I didn't say anything—because I knew time would only make things worse. Especially for someone like me.

My mom left my room and for the rest of the evening, I did nothing but overthink.

I couldn't bring myself to make art. Normally, I'd pick up a pencil to calm my racing thoughts, but today, everything felt different.

If anything, I kept convincing myself that going back to Ohio was the right thing to do for Maya.

My mom's words hit me and made me think, but they... didn't heal me. I wanted to change... I just didn't know how.

Because leaving isn't a choice for me—it's something I have to do.

I can't stay—I shouldn't stay. Even if it hurts like hell to go.

Night had already fallen, but tomorrow morning, I'd tell Maya my decision.

She deserved that much—to hear it from me.

I'm not supposed to feel like this.

Not this much. Not this deep.

But I can't stop thinking about Grace. I want to know it all—every thought, every fear.

I want her. And I want her to want me.

I've never felt anything like this. Not even close. Not even at all.

I want it some much. It's so simple.

And yet—I'm not stupid enough to indulge in a fantasy.

If she doesn't want me the same way. If she can't handle what we are—what I am.

Then what the hell am I holding on to?

Maybe I meant less to her than she did to me. Maybe she's already made her choice, and it's not me.

That fucking hurts—it's unbearable.

The rejection. The disappointment. The misunderstanding.

If Grace feels even a fraction of what I felt, then she is suffering too.

And that's the part that hurts me the most.

And yet, neither of us has said it out loud.

I can't shake the fear that I'm going to lose her before I even get the chance to show her how much she means to me.

I know, it's stupid.

I've messed up. A lot. I pushed her away without even realizing it. It's all on me.

I was just about to lock myself in my room, knowing damn well I wouldn't sleep, when my father showed up.

Shit. Not him. Not now. Not in my worst moment.

His face looked like he was trying way too hard to be patient. Something he hardly ever pulls off.

"Come to my room, Maya, we need to talk," he said.

I rolled my eyes, unapologetically and slow enough for him to notice. My father walked away, but not before shooting me one last commanding look.

I let out a sharp breath, yanked my hand off my door handle, and dragged myself toward his room instead.

I found Grace's mother, Giselle, sitting on the mattress, smiling gently.

"Hi, Maya," she said.

Her blue eyes met mine—same shade as Grace's. Hard to ignore.

I gave her a small nod.

My father stood in the corner, arms crossed, stiff, wearing that stern look as if it was my fault he hadn't had a minute of peace.

He's still mad at me for a recent event I had a hand in...

I didn't say a word. Just raised an eyebrow, daring him to start something.

"There's something we need to discuss regarding you and Grace," he burst out.

My stomach twisted.

There's no way they knew anything. They can't know.

"We care about both of you. We've noticed some tension, and we think it's important to talk about it," Grace's mother began.

I kept my face blank, masking my rush of emotions beneath calm—taking back control.

"There's not much to say," I went straight to the point.

"Well, Maya, maybe all you have to do is actually talk to understand each other," she replied.

I scoffed. "Things aren't working right now, and I don't know how to fix them," I muttered.

"You need to figure it out together," Giselle insisted. "Building a bond can be hard, especially for someone different like you two."

My brow furrowed at the word 'bond.'

Unbelievable. Even they can sense a connection—yet they have no idea how deep it is.

"But it's about working through the messy parts, not running from them," her tone firm yet understanding.

Okay, fine—she was partially right.

Grace and I have a hard time talking things through. But they still have no clue what's really behind it.

I do feel, though, there's something behind all this scolding going on.

"Why are we even talking about this right now?" I cut in.

Giselle answered with a sad sigh. "Grace wants to go back to Ohio."

My eyes widened, and it felt like the ground beneath me was collapsing.

"What?!" I blinked fast, trying to process what I just heard. "She wants to leave?" My voice cracked, unconsciously showing how much it hurt.

Fuck. It hurts so much.

"Grace told me it's not your fault, Maya," her mother clarified. "She was very clear about that."

That's not the whole truth. It can't be.

Grace might say it to protect me, but I know there's more to it.

"Don't worry, Maya. Tomorrow we're going to talk about it seriously. Let's just give her some time," Giselle smiled kindly.

My father gave me a sideways look, his stern expression unchanged, but this time he was silently studying me.

I gave him nothing.

Inside, I was screaming and kicking, but on the outside, I appeared as calm as ever.

At least, I thought I was.

My jaw and fists were clenched—my breath quick and uneven—but I held it in. Kept everything locked tight.

I had to stay composed. I had to.

Because Grace had the power to touch the parts of me I'd kept locked away.

But I want to unlock them—for her eyes only.

Without saying another word, I walked out.

My eyes locked on Grace's locked door right next to mine.

I never really told her what mattered. I thought I did—I told her what I felt, in the only way I knew how. But it wasn't enough. I was too guarded, too quick to dismiss her fears.

Grace needed a different kind of truth.

And so did I.

Like hell I'm letting her go.

Tomorrow might already be too late.

Tomorrow isn't even an option for me.

It has to be tonight.