Chapter 15

KAT‘s POV:

I used to think distance was measured by miles.

By how far someone was.

By how long the trip took.

But I was wrong.

Sometimes…

Distance was just a missed call.

A delayed reply.

A conversation that used to last hours becoming only a few minutes.

—

I stared at my phone.

The last message from Pat was still there.

**Pat: You too. Don’t forget to rest.**

Simple.

Normal.

Something she would always say.

But somehow…

It felt different.

—

Because I knew Pat.

I knew when she was pretending.

And lately…

She had been pretending a lot.

—

Third year nursing was not what I imagined.

I knew it would be hard.

Everyone warned me.

But knowing something was difficult and actually experiencing it…

Were two different things.

—

My days became full.

Duties.

Lectures.

Requirements.

Exams.

Research.

Clinical rotations.

Sometimes I would get home and realize I hadn’t eaten properly.

Sometimes I would fall asleep while reviewing.

Sometimes I would look at my phone and see hours had passed.

—

And every time…

I would see Pat’s name.

And my heart would ache.

Because I wanted to call.

I wanted to hear her voice.

I wanted to tell her everything.

But then I would remember the time.

The workload.

The fact that she was also exhausted.

And I would think:

Maybe tomorrow.

—

But tomorrow became another day.

Then another.

Until our every night calls became twice a week.

—

I hated it.

I hated how much our routine changed.

Because Pat was always there.

Always.

Even when we were kids.

Even when life was difficult.

She was the one constant I had.

And now…

I was scared that I was slowly losing her.

—

My friend noticed.

“You look sad.”

I looked up.

“I’m just tired.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Tired or missing someone?”

I stayed quiet.

Because she already knew.

—

“Pat?”

I sighed.

“Yeah.”

She smiled.

“Your best friend?”

I looked at my phone.

“Yeah.”

But the way I said it…

Didn’t sound like just that.

—

Because Pat wasn’t just my best friend.

She was the person who knew me before anyone else.

The person who stayed when I was annoying.

The person who listened to my random stories.

The person who never got tired of me.

—

I remembered our last call.

The way she tried to sound okay.

The way she laughed.

The way she said she was tired.

But didn’t complain.

She never complained.

That was Pat.

Always carrying everything quietly.

—

I opened our chat.

Typed:

**I miss you.**

I stared at it.

Then deleted.

Because what if she was busy?

What if she needed rest?

What if I became another thing she had to worry about?

—

Then I saw her story.

A basketball training photo.

I smiled.

She looked tired.

But determined.

Just like always.

—

I typed:

**You did well today.**

I hesitated.

Then sent it.

—

Seconds later…

A reply.

**Pat: You’re awake?**

I laughed softly.

Of course.

Even after everything…

She noticed.

—

**Kat: Just finished studying.**

**Pat: Sleep.**

I smiled.

Typical Pat.

Always ordering me around.

**Kat: You’re not my mom.**

**Pat: Someone has to remind you.**

I laughed.

And for a moment…

It felt like before.

—

**Kat: How was training?**

The reply took longer.

Then:

**Pat: Hard.**

Just one word.

But I knew there was more.

I knew her.

“Hard” for Pat meant exhausting.

Painful.

Almost too much.

—

I wanted to ask.

Are you okay?

Are you eating?

Are you sleeping?

Are you happy?

But those were my questions.

The same questions she always asked me.

—

So I sent:

**Kat: Take care of yourself, okay?**

Her reply came quickly.

**Pat: You too.**

I stared.

Because that was us.

Always worrying about the other person.

Never ourselves.

—

I put my phone down.

But I couldn’t sleep.

Because one thought kept repeating.

Maybe we were both waiting.

Waiting for the other person to reach out first.

Waiting for the other person to admit they missed them.

—

Then I remembered something.

A conversation from months ago.

When she asked about Mat.

When I felt something I couldn’t explain.

Jealousy.

Fear.

Something I didn’t want to admit.

—

Because what if Pat found someone who was there every day?

Someone from her world.

Someone who understood her struggles.

Someone who saw her in ways I couldn’t anymore.

—

Matthew Villanueva.

His name appeared in my mind.

And I hated that it did.

Because I knew he wasn’t a bad person.

I knew Pat trusted him.

And maybe…

That scared me more.

—

Because I wasn’t afraid of losing Pat to someone.

I was afraid of losing my place.

The place I had always had.

—

I looked at our old photos.

Two kids.

Two best friends.

Two people who promised forever.

—

“Pat…”

I whispered.

Like she could hear me.

Like she was still beside me.

—

I didn’t know when everything changed.

When growing up became so complicated.

When loving someone became something I was afraid to admit.

But one thing stayed true.

Even if we didn’t talk every day.

Even if life became busy.

Even if everything around us changed…

I still looked for her.

Every single day.

And maybe that meant something.