Chapter 35

The hallway felt too bright, too loud, like the world hadn’t gotten the memo that something inside her had just fractured.

Lila didn’t turn around. She couldn’t. Not when she could still feel Rowan behind her, still sense the weight of her gaze, heavy and aching, like a hand pressed flat against her spine. If she turned, if she saw that look on Rowan’s face again, she would fold. She already felt herself unraveling, thread by thread.

Her footsteps echoed too clearly against the floor. Each one felt final.

“Lila.”

Rowan’s voice cracked when she said her name.

That was the worst part. Not the hesitation earlier. Not the denial that wasn’t quite a denial but wasn’t the truth either. It was the way Rowan sounded now like someone who had just realized too late what they’d lost.

Lila stopped walking.

Her hands were trembling at her sides, fingers curling into fists, nails biting into her palms. She squeezed them harder, grounding herself in the sting, trying to keep her voice steady if she spoke again.

She turned slowly.

Rowan stood a few feet away, frozen in place, eyes glossy, chest rising too fast. She looked like she wanted to cross the distance between them but was terrified that if she did, Lila would disappear entirely.

“What?” Lila asked softly.

Rowan swallowed. “Please don’t walk away like that.”

Lila let out a shaky breath. “Like what?”

“Like you’re done,” Rowan whispered.

Lila laughed again, a broken sound that startled even herself. “I don’t get to be done,” she said. “I just get tired.”

Rowan’s face twisted, guilt washing over her in waves. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” Lila said immediately. That was the problem. “You never do.”

She stepped closer this time, just enough to close some of the space but not all of it. She needed Rowan to hear her, really hear her before she broke completely.

“You didn’t say no,” Lila continued, voice low. “And you didn’t say yes. You stood there and let them decide for you what we are. And I was standing right there, Rowan. I heard it.”

Rowan’s eyes flicked away. “I didn’t see you.”

“I know,” Lila said. “But I saw you.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt. “I saw the pause. I saw the fear. I saw the part of you that still doesn’t think I’m worth the fallout.”

“That’s not true,” Rowan said quickly. Too quickly.

Lila’s eyes filled again, and this time she didn’t bother fighting it. “Then why does it feel like I’m always the secret you don’t want to admit to yet?”

Rowan took a step forward. Lila didn’t move.

“I’m trying,” Rowan said, voice shaking. “I swear I am. I just—everything gets so loud. People start watching. Asking questions. And I panic and—”

“And you leave me standing there,” Lila finished quietly.

Rowan flinched like she’d been slapped.

“I keep telling myself I’m being dramatic,” Lila went on, words spilling now, unstoppable. “That I should be patient. That I should understand where you’re coming from. And I do, Rowan. I really do. But understanding doesn’t stop it from hurting.”

Her voice broke again, tears sliding down her cheeks unchecked. “It doesn’t stop me from wondering what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” Rowan said fiercely. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

Lila shook her head. “Then why do I always feel like I’m asking for too much just by wanting you to choose me?”

Rowan opened her mouth, then closed it. Her hands clenched at her sides.

Lila noticed everything. The way Rowan’s shoulders hunched inward. The way she looked like she wanted to reach out but didn’t trust herself to.

“That’s how I knew,” Lila whispered. “When they asked if there was something going on between us, I knew what you’d say before you even opened your mouth.”

Rowan’s eyes flicked up sharply. “You did?”

“Yes.” Lila’s lips trembled. “Because you still don’t believe you’re allowed to want this out loud.”

Silence fell between them, thick and suffocating.

Rowan finally stepped closer, carefully this time, like she was approaching something fragile. “I don’t know how to be brave yet,” she admitted, voice barely audible. “But it has nothing to do with you not being enough.”

Lila’s breath hitched. “Then why does it feel like I’m always the one waiting for you to catch up?”

Rowan reached out again, slower, giving Lila time to pull away. When Lila didn’t, Rowan’s fingers hovered near her sleeve, not quite touching.

“Because I’m behind,” Rowan said. “And you’re already there.”

The words sank deep.

Lila felt something in her chest give way. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep herself from fully falling apart, but her shoulders began to shake anyway.

“When will I be enough?” she asked again, voice dissolving into a sob this time. “When will you wake up and decide that what we have is worth the mess? Worth the questions? Worth the risk?”

Rowan’s eyes filled completely. “You already are,” she said. “I just—”

“But that’s not the same as choosing me,” Lila whispered.

That broke Rowan.

She stepped forward fully now, hands gripping Lila’s arms—not tightly, but desperately, like she was afraid Lila might vanish if she didn’t hold on.

“I choose you,” Rowan said, voice shaking. “I just don’t always know how to say it when people are watching.”

Lila looked up at her through tears. “That’s when it matters most.”

Rowan nodded, tears spilling over now too. “I know.”

They stood there, both crying quietly, the space between them heavy with everything left unsaid.

Lila gently pulled her arms free.

Rowan’s hands dropped instantly, like she’d been burned.

“I can’t keep teaching you how to love me,” Lila said softly. “Not if it keeps hurting like this.”

Rowan’s face crumpled. “Please don’t give up on me.”

Lila closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself feel the truth of it—the way she still wanted to. The way walking away felt like tearing herself in half.

“I’m not giving up,” she said. “I’m just stepping back before I lose myself completely.”

She took a step away.

Then another.

Rowan didn’t stop her this time.

“Lila,” Rowan whispered, voice raw and broken.

Lila paused at the corner of the hallway; hand braced against the wall as another wave of tears overtook her. She didn’t turn around, but she spoke anyway.

“I need you to want me loudly,” she said. “Or I need you to let me go.”

Then she walked away.

And this time, she didn’t slow down.