chapter twenty one

Chapter Twenty-One : Maya pov

I woke up at 6am to the sound of rain hitting my window.

The sky was gray. The streets were wet. My apartment was cold. I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders and stared at the ceiling. The same ceiling I'd been staring at for months. The same cracks in the paint. The same water stain in the corner. The same feeling of something heavy sitting on my chest.

But today felt different.

Not good. Not back to normal. But different. Lighter. Like someone had opened a window in a room that had been closed up for too long.

I hadn't seen Cole since he came to my apartment. That was three days ago. Three days of thinking. Three days of processing. Three days of trying to figure out who I was now.

My phone buzzed. Sarah.

You awake?

Yeah, I replied.

You okay?

I don't know.

Want company?

Not yet. But soon.

Okay. I'm here.

I put my phone down. Got out of bed. Made coffee. Burnt my tongue. Didn't care.

I stood by the window. Watched the rain. Watched the cars drive past. Watched people run for cover.

I thought about Cole. About the way he looked at me when he said "I love you even when I'm angry." About the way his voice cracked. About the way his hands shook.

I thought about Jay. About the way he said "I don't regret him." About the way he didn't apologize for loving Cole. About the way he sat on that bench and told me the truth even though it hurt.

I thought about my father. About the way he said "I'm trying." About the way his eyes looked tired and old.

I didn't have answers. Not yet.

But for the first time in a long time, I believed I might find them.

I went to class at 10am.

The campus was wet. The trees were dripping. The sidewalks were empty. Most students were smart enough to stay inside.

I wasn't smart. I was just restless.

The lecture hall was half empty. I sat in the back. Pulled out my notebook. Stared at the board.

Professor Martinez was talking about something. Art history. Renaissance paintings. I didn't care. I stared at the board and saw nothing.

The girl next to me leaned over. Her name was Tessa. She was in my study group. She had kind eyes and a quiet voice.

"You okay?" she whispered.

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. But I'm here."

I nodded. Turned back to the board.

After class, Tessa caught up with me in the hallway. "You've been gone for weeks," she said. "Everyone's been asking about you."

"Everyone?"

"Your study group. We were worried."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. But you're here. That's something."

I didn't know what to say to that.

Tessa smiled. "If you need notes, I've got you."

"Thanks."

She walked away. I stood in the hallway for a long time. Watching students rush past. Watching the world move on without me.

I went to the coffee shop at noon.

Not the one where Jay worked. A different one. Farther away. Neutral ground.

I ordered a latte. Sat by the window. Watched the rain.

My phone buzzed. Cole.

How are you?

I don't know, I replied.

That's honest.

I'm trying to be.

Can I see you?

Not today.

Okay.

Soon though.

I'll wait.

I put my phone down. Drank my latte. Watched the rain.

A woman came in with a baby on her hip. The baby was crying. The woman looked exhausted. She ordered a coffee. Paid with crumpled bills. Sat in the corner.

I watched her. Watched the baby finally fall asleep. Watched the woman close her eyes.

She looked like me. Tired. Broken. But still here.

I went home at 2pm.

My apartment was still cold. The dishes were still in the sink. The laundry was still piled on the floor.

I sat on the couch. Stared at the wall.

My phone buzzed. Sarah.

I'm coming over.

I didn't say you could.

I don't care.

She showed up at 2:30. Let herself in. She had a key. I'd given it to her months ago, back when things were normal.

She looked around. At the dirty dishes. The piled laundry. The closed curtains.

"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," she said.

"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 park.

The same park where I used to play as a kid. The same park where Cole taught me to ride a bike. The same park where Jay and I had our first kiss.

I hadn't been here in months.

Sarah sat on a bench. I sat next to her.

"You're thinking about him," she said.

"Which one?"

"Both."

I nodded.

"You need to stop."

"I can't."

"Then talk to them."

"I'm not ready."

"When will you be?"

I thought about it. Really thought about it.

"Soon," I said. "I think."

Sarah put her hand on mine. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be there."

"I know."

We sat there until the rain stopped. The clouds broke. The sun came out.

I went home at 5pm.

My apartment was clean. The dishes were done. The laundry was folded. Sarah had even made my bed.

I sat on the couch. Stared at the wall.

My phone buzzed. Jay.

I know you're not ready to talk. But I want you to know I'm thinking about you.

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

Thank you, I typed. That means a lot.

I'm not going to stop trying, he replied.

I know.

Is that okay?

I don't know. But I'm not going to tell you to stop.

That's more than I deserve.

Maybe. But it's what I've got.

I put my phone down. Stared at the ceiling.

For the first time in weeks, I didn't feel angry.

I just felt... tired.

The next morning, I woke up early.

The rain had stopped. The sky was blue. The sun was warm.

I got out of bed. Made coffee. Drank it slowly.

I texted Cole: Can we have lunch today?

His reply came immediately: Yes. Where?

The diner on Main. 1pm.

I'll be there.

I put my phone down. Stared at the wall.

I wasn't ready to forgive him. But I was ready to try.

I got to the diner at 1pm.

Cole was already there. Sitting in a booth by the window. He looked up when I walked in. His eyes were tired. His hair was messy. He looked like he hadn't slept.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

I sat across from him. The table was small. Our knees almost touched.

The waitress came. I ordered coffee. Cole ordered coffee. She left.

"You look tired," I said.

"I haven't been sleeping."

"Me neither."

Cole looked at me. "Thank you for coming."

"Don't thank me yet. I'm still angry."

"I know."

"Good."

The waitress brought our coffee. I added sugar. Stirred it. Didn't drink.

"I've been thinking," I said.

"About what?"

"About you. About Jay. About Dad."

"And?"

I looked at him. Really looked at him. He was my brother. The boy who taught me how to ride a bike. Who held my hand at Mom's funeral. Who promised to always protect me.

"I'm not going to cut you out," I said.

"I know."

"I'm not ready to forgive you. But I'm not going to disappear."

"That's more than I deserve."

"Maybe. But it's what I've got."

Cole's eyes were wet. He didn't wipe them away.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Don't thank me yet. I'm still angry."

"I know."

"Good."

We sat in silence. The diner was busy. People laughing. Plates clattering. Coffee pouring.

Normal life. Happening right in front of us.

"Can I ask you something?" Cole said.

"Anything."

"Are you happy?"

I thought about it. Really thought about it.

"Not yet," I said. "But I'm getting there."

"Because of me?"

"No. Because of me. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of hiding in my apartment."

"That's good, Maya."

"I know."

Cole reached across the table. Took my hand. "I love you."

"I love you too."

We sat there. Holding hands. Not fixing anything. Just being.

I left the diner at 2pm.

Cole walked me to my car. The sun was warm. The sky was blue.

"Can I see you again?" he asked.

"Soon."

"Okay."

He hugged me. Tight. Longer than usual.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I know."

I got in my car. Drove home.

For the first time in months, I didn't cry.