“You gonna call him back?”
“No.”
“Why?”
I don’t answer right away. I stare at the seam of the comforter, at the coffee ring blooming on the nightstand.
“Because if he burned it down for me,” I say finally, “it’s already too late.”
Cami nods slowly. Like she understands. Like she doesn’t want to say the thing sitting between us—that he was never supposed to care enough to do something like that.
And now he does.
We eat in silence. Halfway through, she reaches over and brushes something from my cheek, like she can’t tell if it’s a crumb or a bruise that hasn’t finished fading.
I want to lean into her hand.
I don’t.
I don’t deserve comfort when I’m the one who let this all happen.
That night, I power my phone on. Just for a minute.
I send Ella a goodnight text. Same as always. Like nothing cracked open.
Night, Vi. Love you forever.
It hits differently tonight. The way her love is so uncomplicated. So freely given. And I wonder if I taught her how to love wrong—if I handed her a world built on silence and sacrifice and told her it was enough.
I think of Ella at thirteen, sitting on the edge of her twin bed with her knees pulled to her chest, eyes rimmed red and trying not to cry.
She’d come home from school and gone straight to her room. I found her there an hour later, still in her uniform, chewing the inside of her cheek like it might hold her together.
“What happened?” I asked, already bracing.
She shrugged. “It was stupid. A boy. He kissed me yesterday and then today told everyone I begged him to.”
My chest went tight. “Ella…”
“I thought he liked me.”
I sat beside her and pulled her into my side. She didn’t resist.
“I don’t get it,” she said after a minute. “How do you even know when someone loves you?”
I swallowed. I didn’t have an answer that came from experience.
“I’ve never been in love,” I admitted. “But Mom used to say love doesn’t feel like a test you’re always failing.”
Ella looked up at me, quiet.
“She said it feels like a breath after being underwater,” I went on. “Like someone standing beside you when the whole world is pushing in.”
I paused. “Real love doesn’t humiliate you to feel powerful. It doesn’t ask you to shrink so someone else canfeel big.”
Ella exhaled like she’d been holding it all day. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that.”
“You will,” I told her. “And when you do, you won’t have to question if it’s real.”
