I read the message until my vision blurred. Then I set the phone on my nightstand and lay back, staring at the ceiling, listening to him move around on the other side of the wall.
I didn’t sleep. Just lay there in the dark, trying to convince myself that the ache in my chest was better than the alternative.
It wasn’t. But I didn’t know how to choose anything else.
6
SETH
A week after trivia night, I was going insane.
Tanner had barely talked to me since Thursday. Hadn’t looked at me directly. We’d fallen into this careful choreography of avoidance—him leaving before I woke up, me staying late at practice, both of us pretending the apartment was big enough for two people who couldn’t stand to be in the same room.
It wasn’t.
Wednesday morning, I woke to the sound of his alarm through the wall. Six-fifteen a.m., same as always. I lay there in the dark, tracking his movements like I’d learned to do over the past seven days. Shower running by six-thirty. Footsteps in the hallway at six forty-five. Then—nothing. Silence outside my door that stretched too long.
I held my breath.
Was he going to knock? Say something? Acknowledge that we were both miserable?
The soft click of the front door answered that question. Gone by seven, a full hour before his first class. Running from me in our own home.
I gave it five minutes before getting up. Found fresh coffee in the pot, still warm. Two mugs sitting on the counter—one half-full, abandoned mid-sip. The other clean and waiting. He’d made enough for both of us.
I stared at that empty mug and wanted to put my fist through something. This was what we’d become—silent gestures and careful distance, coffee made but not shared, conversations that never happened. He cared enough to leave me coffee but not enough to stay while I drank it.
I poured it anyway, scalding and black, and tried to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with someone who wanted me and couldn’t handle wanting me in equal measure.
The coffee tasted bitter. I drank it all.
Thursday afternoon,I had film review until six. When I got home, Tanner’s bedroom door was closed, light visible underneath. I stood in the hallway with takeout in my hands, debating whether to knock. Decided against it. Set the extra container of pad thai in the fridge with a Post-it Note:In case you forgot to eat. -S
Friday morning, the container was empty at the top of the garbage can. The Post-it was still stuck to the fridge, but someone had added to it in Tanner’s precise handwriting:Thank you.
Two words. Better than silence.
Saturday loomedwith the weight of routine and dread in equal measure.
Auburn. An away game. I’d be gone overnight—bus leaving early in the morning, game at seven, back Sunday morning. I packed my duffel Friday night, moving through the familiar motions. Phone charger. Headphones. A book I probably wouldn’t read, but always brought anyway.
My ribs were still tender. The bruise on my cheek had faded to yellow-green, but there was a new one forming on my shoulder from Tuesday’s practice. Coach was running us hard, preparing for Auburn’s secondary. They were known for aggressive coverage, for corners who liked to punish receivers after the catch.
I wasn’t worried. I’d taken worse.
Tanner’s bedroom door stayed closed all evening. I heard him moving around in there—the soft tap of his keyboard, the occasional creak of his desk chair. Working. Always working. Burying himself in data and padding configurations and anything that meant he didn’t have to face me.
I went to bed early. Had to be up at the asscrack of dawn to get ready. Didn’t sleep much.
Saturday morning,I found a Post-it on the coffee maker.
Good luck. Be safe.
I stared at it longer than I should have. Peeled it off with care and tucked it into my wallet, next to the photo of my grandparents I’d been carrying since freshman year. Wasn’t sure why. Just knew I wanted it with me.
The apartment was still. Tanner’s door closed. He’d either left early or was pretending to be asleep. I shouldered my duffel and left.
Auburn’s stadium was loud.
