A few cars were parked behind me. Couples sat inside them, talking or sharing food or watching the skyline. A few people lingered near the telescopes. Everyone seemed wrapped up in their own calm night. Nobody had any idea what had happened to me, and that made everything feel heavier. Life kept moving around me while mine felt like it was breaking apart piece by piece.
My fingers were stiff from gripping my legs too tightly. My face throbbed where my mother had hit me, and my arm still ached where she had grabbed me. My head kept replayingthe last few minutes in the house. Every word. Every look. Every second of fear was stuck in my head.
I pressed my forehead against my knees and tried to breathe more slowly, but the tears kept coming. I wasn’t even sure what I was crying about anymore. The slap or the screaming. The humiliation, or the fact that she had looked at me like I was something disgusting. Or maybe the realization that I had run instead of fighting back.
It was getting cold, and the tiredness started to settle into my body slowly. My limbs felt heavy and my thoughts sluggish, but I still couldn’t bring myself to leave. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to face whatever waited for me there. I also didn’t want to go to Holland’s place. She had already carried more than enough of my chaos these past days, and the last thing I wanted was to show up with red eyes and a shaking voice and make her worry again. This time, I needed to try handling the fallout on my own, even if I wasn’t sure I could.
Footsteps echoed somewhere behind me, and I held my breath. As much as a part of me ached for him, as much as I wanted Callan to appear and pull me into his arms, another part of me wasn’t ready. I didn’t want him to see me like this. I didn’t want him to feel responsible for fixing this moment too. So I kept my gaze fixed on the city below, bracing myself for whatever came next.
“Are you okay?”
It wasn’t Callan.
The relief washed over me instantly. I turned my head quickly, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
He raised a brow, letting me know exactly what he thought of that answer. He didn’t buy it. “You’re a pretty bad liar.”
I let out a forced laugh. I didn’t know why I was even letting some stranger evaluate me like this, but I didn’t have the energy to pretend. “Yeah, well…can’t be good at everything.”
I looked back toward the city again, sniffing as I tried to keep the next wave of tears under control.
He stayed where he was. He didn’t walk away, and he didn’t make a single move that suggested he felt awkward. That should’ve concerned me. I should’ve been more careful, especially right now. But I was too drained to care about safety.
“I know you,” he said finally.
I rolled my eyes, not in the mood for dumb flirting. “Right.”
“No, I mean…I know you from here. You come here often.”
That made me frown. I turned to look at him again as he stepped closer, sliding his hands into his pockets. That’s when I noticed his shirt. He wore an observatory logo, and when I looked back at his face, something faint stirred in my memory.
“I’m a volunteer,” he said, motioning over his shoulder toward the building. “I usually stand by the Zeiss telescope. I think we once talked about Wi-Fi and snacks floating away in space.”
The memory finally came to me. We’ve only had a short conversation, a harmless one. Back when the world didn’t feel like it was falling apart under my feet.
I looked away again, resting my chin on my knees and pulling in a slow breath. He stayed there, and I didn’t know what to make of it. I wanted to tell him I needed to be alone, but the words wouldn’t come. He had every right to be here, and as long as he wasn’t bothering me, I didn’t see a reason to push him away.
His presence gave me comfort in a way. Maybe it was because he had no idea what had happened to me these past twodays. And even though I didn’t want to rely on it, I felt a small part of me settle. I felt just slightly less alone.
But I didn’t let myself lean into that feeling. I didn’t deserve comfort right now. I didn’t deserve anything except to sit with what I’d done, with the mess I’d made, and with how I’d left it all behind in the most selfish way.
God, I was starting to become insufferable, even in my own head.
He cleared his throat and took a careful step closer to the bench, stopping a respectful distance away. “I, uh…I don’t want to cross any lines or make you uncomfortable, but you’re upset, and I know how much looking at the stars usually makes you happy.”
Another frown pulled at my eyebrows. I looked up at him again, still not speaking, still unsure what he was building toward. But whatever it was, I didn’t feel the need to shut it down. I didn’t have the energy for that, and a small part of me was open to anything that didn’t involve more pain.
“I promise I’m not some creep,” he added, lifting his hands in a small, awkward gesture. “I’m here because I like seeing people smile. That’s the whole reason I volunteer. I get to watch people look through that telescope and just…light up.” His eyes softened as he looked at me. “And I’ve seen your eyes do that every single time you’ve come here.”
He paused, letting the words settle. I didn’t say anything. I just waited.
“I have the keys to the building,” he said, his voice gentler now. “It’s closed, but I can let you in for a few minutes. The sky’s clearer than usual. You could look through the telescope if you want. It might help with whatever you’re going through.”
For the first time since I’d left the house, something inside me lifted. Not dramatically, but enough to feel like a breath of air after being underwater too long.
I studied him carefully. He looked nervous, but not in a suspicious way. He was actually worried about a stranger. He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anything. He was trying to offer something simple and kind.
