The thought makes my stomach twist. My throat feels tight. My mind replays every moment I pushed him away.
And now I want to undo it all.
But life doesn’t give do-overs. It just gives you the pain of knowing you could’ve done better.
I press my palms to my face, whispering into them,
“God, what if I say it and he looks at me like I’m a stranger?”
The silence doesn’t answer.
But I know it has to be done.
Even if it shatters me.
Even if it’s too late.
Even if he doesn’t love me anymore.
Because love—real love—deserves to be said out loud. Even though he never told me he loves me, I’m going to tell him.
I take a deep, shuddering breath and force myself to stand.
My legs feel like wet noodles.
Every step toward his door is heavy, like gravity has doubled, like the air itself is trying to push me back.
I keep repeating in my head,don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
But the second I knock, my chest betrays me.
“Luca? I… I need to talk to you,” I say, my voice is brittle, almost foreign even to me.
The door swings open, and there he is.
My heart twists painfully at the sight of him—suitcase open, casually lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone as if nothing has changed. Like he isn’t about to leave.
I want to crawl into a corner and disappear.
My hoodie feels heavy on my shoulders. My hair is a mess. My eyes are raw, my lips shaking.
I look like someone who has been through war, and maybe I have.
“Tilly?” he looks at me, surprised, and I see hurt in his face.
I step inside and close the door slowly, my fingers trembling against the frame.
I can’t even look at him.
I just stand there, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hi,” he says, locking his eyes on mine.
I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to steady the shaking of my hands. “First… I want to apologize. I–” I take a breath that turns into a sob. “I broke your heart, Luca. I broke it into a million pieces, and I never said sorry. So, I’m sorry.”
He looks away and turns around.
