I opened my mouth to speak again, but before I could say anything, Cahya stepped into the room. His expression was calm but firm, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
“Hey,” Cahya said quietly, stepping toward him. “That’senough.”
Wyn turned toward him, his jaw clenching, his tears still streaming down his face. But he didn’t argue, didn’t push back. He just stood there, his breathing uneven, his anger simmering beneath the surface.
“You don’t have to do this now,” Cahya continued, his voice steady. “You don’t have to tear yourself apart like this. Both of you. Take a step back. Get some space.”
Wyn exhaled shakily, his hands trembling at his sides. “I cannot stay here,” he said, His gaze was full of pain, his red-rimmed eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t give. “I can’t look at you right now. I can’t…breathe here. I’m leaving.”
Cahya stepped forward, his hand lightly touching Wyn’s arm. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go for a walk. You need air.”
Wyn didn’t resist. He didn’t argue or push Cahya away. He simply nodded, his shoulders sagging as if all the fight had drained out of him.
He turned to leave, his steps heavy and unsteady. The sound of the front door opening and closing echoed through the house, leaving behind a silence that was louder than anything I’d ever heard.
I sank to the floor, my tears falling freely now, my chest hollow with the weight of what I’d done. Wyn was gone, and I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance to make things right.
When Cahya returned he was alone, his sweater and clothes wet from the rain. “Does he hate me now?” I cried.
“I don’t know,” Cahya responded, his eyes welling with unshed tears as well. “But I haven’t seen him this devastated since—”
“Jiwon,” I finished his sentence.
We have to go back to that very last time we were in Waverly Peak, the last holiday, the one no one has ever been able to forget, the one that swept in like a hurricane and destroyed everything in its wake.
The last holiday, Yesoh 17, Wynter 19, Cahya, 19
CAHYA’s POV
Wyn and Yesoh were by the front door, their backs to me. The atmosphere between them was thick, charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on. I should’ve just turned away, walked back to the living room I came from, but something in the air held me there, watching them, unable to move.
I was no idiot, I’d always known that Yesoh was different around Wynter. It was almost like she had this side of herself reserved exclusively for him. Sometimes I thought maybe I was imagining it, but the eyes never lie. And she looked at him like little kids looked at fairies and unicorns. Like something about him was otherworldly.
It was the way Yesoh was standing so close to him, her head tilted slightly, that drew my attention first. She was talking, hervoice light, teasing, but something in her eyes was too careful, too deliberate. And Wyn—he was listening. I could see how his expression softened just a little, his lips tugging at the corners as he half-smiled at her. But it wasn’t a smile I was used to seeing from him. It wasn’t the easy, carefree expression he wore when he was skating, when he was with the group. This one was…tentative.
But I also knew Wynter didn’t feel anything towards her, not in that respect. He was far too in his own head. He also tended to have a type—older, more mature.
The weight in my chest shifted, something heavier and sharper settling there. I couldn’t explain why it felt so much like I was intruding on something I wasn’t supposed to witness. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
I watched as Yesoh’s voice dropped, her words turning more sincere. “So, I heard from your dad that you’re competing in the Olympics this year?”
The question hung in the air for a moment. Wyn’s shoulders stiffened just slightly, his hand moving to adjust the collar of his sweater like he was trying to mask some kind of discomfort.
“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. “I am.”
He would never admit it, but he was nervous, I knew he was.
Yesoh nodded, her eyes flicking over him. “Well, congratulations, then. That’s huge.” Her voice was warm, genuine. She wasn’t just being polite—shemeantit. She meant every word of it.
I watched Wyn’s expression shift at her words, his posture relaxing ever so slightly, though the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. He met her gaze briefly, and I saw it—the brief flicker of something in his eyes. But then he looked away, and his voice was steady when he spoke next.
“Thanks,” he said, but the words didn’t hold the lightness they should’ve. They felt heavy, almost forced. “I’m trying to think of it as if it’s just another competition so…”
The way he said it made the pit in my stomach deepen. It was the way he tried to downplay everything, like he couldn’t bring himself to let anyone see how much it actually meant to him.
Yesoh didn’t buy it though. She tilted her head slightly, taking a small step closer. “Wyn, no one else is going to say it to you, so I will. Like I always do, offering you only hard truths. This is ahugeaccomplishment. I’m—well, I’m very proud of you.”
The words were kind, but they landed in the air like more than just a compliment. They felt like an invitation. Like she was trying to crack open the walls he’d built around himself.
