chapter ten

Chapter Ten :Maya pov

I didn't leave my apartment for six days.

Not for food. Not for air. Not for anything.

The blinds stayed closed. The dishes piled up in the sink. My phone died on the second day and I didn't bother to charge it. What was the point? Who was going to call me? Cole? Jay? The two people I trusted most in the world had already proven they couldn't be trusted at all.

Sarah came by on the third day. She knocked. I didn't answer. She knocked again.

"Maya. I know you're in there. Open the door."

"Go away."

"I brought food."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten in three days."

"I'm still not hungry."

Silence. Then the sound of something sliding under the door. A bag. The smell of warm bread and soup.

"I'm leaving this here," Sarah said. "If you don't eat it, I'm coming back tomorrow with more."

I waited until I heard her footsteps fade. Then I crawled off the couch and grabbed the bag. The soup was cold by then. I ate it anyway. Standing in the dark. Leaning against the door. Tears running down my face.

I hated them. I hated Cole for betraying me. I hated Jay for lying to me. I hated myself for not seeing it sooner.

But mostly, I just missed them.

That was the worst part.

On the fourth day, I found Cole's letter.

It was under the door. I hadn't noticed it before. Probably slid through while I was asleep. White envelope. My name written in his messy handwriting.

I picked it up. Held it in my hands for a long time. Part of me wanted to throw it away. Part of me wanted to burn it. Part of me wanted to read it a hundred times and then cry.

I opened it.

Maya,

I'm not going to ask for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But I want you to know that I'm sorry. Not because I got caught. Because I hurt you. You're my sister. You're the only family that matters. And I broke your heart.

I can't take it back. I wish I could. But I can't.

So instead, I'm going to try to be better. Not for me. For you. Because you deserve a brother who tells the truth. Even when it's hard.

I love you. I always have. I always will.

I'll wait as long as it takes.

Cole

I read it once. Twice. Three times.

Then I folded it carefully and put it on the coffee table. Right where I could see it.

I didn't forgive him. Not yet. But I stopped crying.

On the fifth day, I charged my phone.

Messages flooded in. Sarah. Liam. A few classmates asking about a group project. And one from Jay.

I don't expect you to reply. I just want you to know I'm sorry. I'm not going to stop being sorry. I'll wait as long as it takes.

I stared at the message. My thumb hovered over the keyboard.

I didn't reply.

But I didn't delete it either.

On the sixth day, Sarah showed up again. This time, I let her in.

She stood in the doorway, looking around at the mess. The dirty dishes. The piled laundry. The curtains still drawn.

"Wow," she said.

"Wow what?"

"This is worse than I thought."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're wearing the same sweatshirt from Tuesday."

"It's comfortable."

Sarah walked to the window. Pulled open the curtains. Sunlight flooded the room. I winced. It hurt. Like I hadn't seen light in years.

"When's the last time you showered?" she asked.

"I don't remember."

"Okay. That's it." She grabbed my arm. Pulled me off the couch. "You're showering. Then we're talking. And you're going to tell me everything."

I didn't have the energy to fight her.

The hot water felt good. Better than it should have. I stood under the spray for twenty minutes. Letting it wash away... something. Not the pain. Not the betrayal. Just the dirt.

When I got out, Sarah had cleaned the kitchen. Dishes done. Trash taken out. She'd even opened a window. Fresh air.

"Sit," she said, pointing to the couch.

I sat.

She sat across from me. Crossed her legs. Folded her hands.

"Talk."

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth. Start from the beginning."

I took a breath. And I told her everything. The dinner. The gym. The way Cole looked at Jay. The way Jay talked about Cole. The hoodie. The mugs. The bed.

By the time I finished, I was crying again.

Sarah didn't interrupt. Didn't offer advice. Didn't tell me I was wrong to be angry. She just listened.

When I was done, she said, "What do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want? Do you want to forgive them? Do you want to cut them out of your life? Do you want to scream at them? What do you want?"

I thought about it. Really thought about it.

"I don't know," I said.

"That's okay. You don't have to know yet."

"But I can't keep sitting in the dark."

"No. You can't."

Sarah stood up. Pulled me to my feet. "We're going out."

"Where?"

"Anywhere. The store. The park. I don't care. Just out."

I looked at the window. The sunlight. The world outside.

"Okay," I said. "Let me get dressed."

We walked to the coffee shop. Not the one where Jay worked. A different one. Farther away. Neutral ground.

I ordered a latte. Sarah ordered tea. We sat by the window.

"Tell me something good," I said.

"What?"

"Something good. Something that isn't about them."

Sarah thought for a minute. "I got a promotion."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm assistant manager now."

I smiled. First real smile in days. "That's amazing. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you've been hiding in your apartment, wearing the same sweatshirt for a week."

"Fair."

We talked for an hour. About her promotion. About her boyfriend. About a trip she was planning. Normal things. Things that didn't involve Cole or Jay.

It felt good. Like being human again.

On the way home, I saw him.

Jay.

He was walking down the street. Head down. Hands in his pockets. He didn't see me.

I stopped.

Sarah stopped too. "Maya. You don't have to."

"I know."

"You can walk away."

"I know."

But I didn't walk away.

I stood there. Watching him. He looked thinner. Paler. Tired. Like he hadn't been sleeping either.

Part of me wanted to call out his name. Part of me wanted to run to him. Part of me wanted to scream.

I didn't do any of those things.

I just watched.

He turned the corner. Disappeared.

Sarah put her hand on my arm. "You okay?"

"No," I said. "But I will be."

That night, I replied to Jay's message.

I typed: I'm not ready to talk. But I'm not going to disappear either.

I stared at the words for a long time. Then I pressed send.

His reply came in seconds. Thank you. That means more than you know.

Don't thank me yet, I wrote. I haven't forgiven you.

I know. I don't expect you to. I just don't want to lose you completely.

I didn't know what to say to that. So I didn't say anything.

I put the phone down. Looked at Cole's letter on the coffee table.

I wasn't ready to forgive. I wasn't ready to forget. I wasn't ready to talk.

But I was ready to stop hiding.

The next morning, I went to class.

I sat in the back. Took notes. Didn't talk to anyone. When the professor asked a question, I didn't raise my hand. I just... existed.

After class, a girl named Tessa sat next to me.

"Hey," she said. "You okay? You've been gone."

"I'm fine. Just... stuff."

She nodded. Didn't push. "Well, if you need notes, I've got you."

"Thanks."

She smiled. Then she left.

Small kindnesses. That's what kept you going.

I started leaving my apartment more after that. Not much. Just little trips. The grocery store. The library. The park.

I saw Mrs. Patterson in the hallway. She smiled. Asked if I was okay. I said yes. She didn't believe me. But she didn't push.

"You're strong," she said. "Don't forget that."

I didn't feel strong. But I nodded anyway.

One afternoon, I found myself outside the rink. The public one. The one Cole used to talk about.

I don't know why I went there. Maybe I wanted to feel close to him. Maybe I wanted to feel something other than anger.

The doors were unlocked. I walked in.

The ice was empty. The stands were empty. The lights were dim.

I climbed up the steps. Sat in the middle row. Stared at the ice.

I thought about Cole. About all the times he'd told me he'd protect me. About all the times he'd kept his word. Until he didn't.

I thought about Jay. About the way he used to look at me. About the way he stopped looking at me.

I thought about both of them. Together. In Cole's bed. In the guest house I'd grown up in.

The tears came again. But this time, I didn't fight them.

I just sat there. In the empty rink. And let myself feel everything.

My phone buzzed.

Cole: I know you're not ready to talk. But I'm here. When you are.

I stared at the message.

I didn't reply.

But I didn't delete it either.

I saved it.

Because maybe, someday, I'd be ready.

And when that day came, I wanted to know he was still there.