It started as a normal afternoon quiet, uneventful, the kind where the air smelled faintly of rain and everything felt slowed down. Lizzy sat beneath the old oak tree behind the library, her journal open on her lap. She wasn't writing, just tracing the edges of the paper where Ben's note was tucked.
When she looked up, she saw him walking across the courtyard. He spotted her almost instantly, hesitated for a second, then started her way.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked.
Lizzy shook her head. "Not at all."
He sat beside her, close enough for her to feel his warmth but far enough to keep it comfortable. For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn't heavy it felt calm, like something they both needed.
Ben glanced at her notebook. "Writing again?"
"Trying to," she said with a small smile. "But my thoughts are messy today."
He chuckled softly. "Messy thoughts make the best pages."
Lizzy tilted her head. "You sound like someone who knows that from experience."
"Maybe I do." His smile was gentle, but his eyes were curious. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "That day… when I asked if you were okay you said some days were harder than others."
Lizzy's fingers stilled on her notebook. The question hung in the air like a fragile thread. She could lie. She could laugh it off, the way she usually did. But something about the way he looked at her steady, patient, kind made it hard to hide.
She exhaled slowly. "It's just… a lot of things. Some from before I came here."
Ben nodded, saying nothing, letting her take her time.
"I don't really talk about it," she continued, her voice quiet. "I used to think if I ignored it long enough, it would stop hurting. But it doesn't. It just… waits."
Ben's gaze softened. "You don't have to tell me everything, Lizzy. Just know that you don't have to carry it alone anymore."
Something in her chest shifted like a locked door cracking open just a little.
"There was someone," she whispered. "Someone who hurt me. And after that, I stopped trusting easily. I stopped believing people meant what they said."
Ben's hands tightened around the grass beside him, but his voice stayed calm. "I'm sorry, Lizzy. You didn't deserve that."
She looked at him then, really looked. He wasn't pitying her he just understood. There was no judgment in his eyes, only quiet empathy.
"I don't want to be broken forever," she said, her voice trembling.
"You're not," Ben replied. "You're just healing. And healing doesn't mean weakness it means you're still fighting."
Lizzy blinked back tears she hadn't realized were forming. For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel small. She didn't feel invisible.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He smiled, a soft curve that reached his eyes. "Anytime."
The sky above them began to darken, the clouds shifting with the promise of rain. But Lizzy didn't move. She stayed there beside him, breathing in the quiet the space where her pain finally had room to speak.