Rage hit first. Then despair.I wasn’t worth it—not even enough to stop me.That was the truth I’d been running from.
And it finally caught me.
With the last of my strength, I dragged my bag to the door and forced my hand down on the handle.
Every step betrayed my heart.Every step screamed Stay!My mind whispered Run.I didn’t know which voice was mine anymore.
Streetlights smeared into gold and rain as I ran. The world kept moving. He didn’t.
I clutched my phone as if I could will a message to appear. But the screen stayed dark. Like him.
As the train pulled in, I pressed my forehead against the cold glass. I was so tired. I waited for him until the doors closed. He had let me go—without a fight, without a word.
And though I had expected him to stop me at any moment, I knew I wouldn’t have stayed.
Maybe that was what hurt the most.
That I left.
And that he made it so easy.
Maybe that was how love died—not with betrayal, but with silence.
The train doors opened with a hiss. Cold air rushed in, biting at my skin, but I barely felt it.
With the bag slung over my shoulder, I stumbled across the platform, each step like wading through water. People streamed past me. Voices. Shouts. The world roared and I didn’t.
I wasn’t searching for faces. I didn’t want to see anyone. Only one person.
And then she was there.
Jen.
Standing at the edge of the platform, hands shoved deep into her coat pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold. Her eyes found me instantly. No smile. No questions. Just one second where she saw everything.
My steps slowed. I wanted to stay strong. I wanted not to fall apart.
But when she wordlessly opened her arms, something inside me ripped wide open.
The bag slipped from my shoulder. I stumbled the last few feet and let her pull me in—firm, unshakable. No questions. No reproach. Just warmth—and the silent promise that I didn’t have to fight anymore. For once, someone didn’t ask me to explain my pain. They just held it.
I buried my face in her shoulder, tears spilling silently down my cheeks. And for the first time in days, I let go. Quietly. Slowly. In the arms of the one person who didn’t ask why I was broken.
“Daisy, I can’t wrap my head around this. Why didn’t you tell me about Mason earlier?”
Jenn sank onto the couch beside me and tugged the blanket over our legs. Her old, worn sofa was soft, familiar, and for a moment, it calmed my frantic heart.
“I didn’t want to do it over the phone.”
Jenn pulled me into a hug. “I’m so sorry.” She leaned back, studying me. “And Damian just shot Mason like that? I mean, I can’t blame him, but still—normal people don’t just do things like that.”
“Damian is not a psychopath,” I said quietly, too quickly. Even as the words left my mouth, they rang false, like I was trying to convince myself.
“Then he’s a narcissist with psychopathic tendencies,” Jenn sighed. “I know it’s complicated, but you have to think of yourself—your safety, your future. You can’t stay with someone who destroys you like this. Rome could be a new beginning.”
I nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s for the best. At least for a while.”
“You don’t have to tell him where you’re going. I’ll help you. We’ll get through this.”
