The hallway buzzed with students, but Ellie could only focus on the warmth of Kyla's arms around her. For a second, the world seemed to blur. Her heart, once tightly knotted with a past she couldn't let go of, finally felt like it was loosening. She let out a quiet breath she didn't realize she had been holding.
She didn't even hear the footsteps at first. But when she opened her eyes and caught sight of Astrid at the end of the corridor, standing frozen, Ellie's heart gave a tiny, confused lurch. It wasn't the old ache, not the one that used to come like waves crashing into her ribs. It was gentler this time. Almost like mourning something that had already faded.
Astrid's expression didn't say much. She didn't cry. She didn't yell. She just looked. And in that look, Ellie saw everything she had once wanted to hear. The longing. The regret. The love.
But it was too late.
Astrid turned away and disappeared into the crowd without a word.
Kyla loosened her arms around Ellie and stepped back just enough to meet her eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.
Ellie nodded. "Yeah. Actually... I think I am."
They didn't talk about it right away. Maybe it was because Ellie didn't want to analyze it. Maybe because Kyla knew that forcing words out too early would only make the moment feel heavier than it had to be.
That night, Ellie lay awake in her room, staring at the ceiling. The hug. The way Kyla's scent lingered on her jacket. The way Astrid had looked at them.
She remembered a time when all she wanted was for Astrid to look at her like that. When every smile, every brush of a hand, had made her feel alive and terrified all at once. Astrid had been the storm, the fire, the sharp inhale of breath before a plunge.
But Kyla… Kyla was different. She was calm. She was laughter on rainy days and hands that didn't let go. She was gentle teasing and quiet understanding. She made Ellie feel safe in a way she hadn't even known she needed.
The next day, Astrid wasn't in homeroom.
Nor the day after that.
By Friday, Ellie found herself glancing around more than she cared to admit. Part of her told herself it didn't matter anymore. That she had moved on. That she was moving on. But another part—the part that had memorized the way Astrid laughed when she got nervous or how she twirled her pen when she was deep in thought—that part still wondered.
She and Kyla spent lunch under the old tree near the back of the school, the same spot Ellie used to hide in whenever she needed space.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Kyla asked, peeling an orange.
Ellie looked at her. "About what?"
Kyla smiled faintly, tossing a piece of orange into her mouth. "You know what."
For a moment, Ellie didn't answer. Then, quietly, she said, "I saw it in her eyes."
Kyla paused. "Yeah?"
"She still loves me," Ellie said, more to herself than to Kyla.
"And do you still love her?"
Ellie didn't respond right away. The wind rustled through the leaves above them, casting shifting patterns of light on the ground. "I think… I'll always love her. But not the way I used to. Not the way I thought I would."
Kyla nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
Ellie turned to face her. "And you? Aren't you scared?"
"Of what?"
"Of me not being over her."
Kyla took a deep breath and offered Ellie a small smile. "I think love's messy. I don't expect you to have everything figured out. I just want to be here while you do."
Those words. They hit something deep inside Ellie. She blinked hard, trying not to cry, but Kyla saw it anyway.
"You don't have to be so strong all the time," Kyla whispered.
Ellie looked down at the grass, her voice barely audible. "I'm tired of hurting people."
"You're not hurting me," Kyla said. "You're being honest. That's different."
For the first time in a long while, Ellie felt like maybe she wasn't breaking everything she touched. Maybe, just maybe, she was allowed to feel things at her own pace.
A week passed. Then two. Life settled into something soft and manageable. Ellie and Kyla grew closer. They studied together, laughed until their stomachs hurt, and slowly, quietly, began to lean on each other in ways that felt natural.
But Astrid didn't come back.
Not fully.
She was there in the hallways sometimes, but she stopped meeting Ellie's gaze. She avoided places she used to be. Her laughter didn't ring out across the cafeteria like it used to.
One afternoon, Ellie found herself standing outside the library, torn.
She could walk away.
Or she could open the door.
She opened it.
Inside, Astrid sat by the window, a book in her hands. She looked up, surprised, but didn't say anything.
Ellie approached slowly. "Hey."
Astrid blinked, then gave a quiet, cautious smile. "Hey."
"Can I sit?"
Astrid hesitated, then nodded.
They sat in silence for a while, the tension thick, but not unbearable.
"I saw you," Astrid said quietly.
Ellie nodded. "I know."
"It hurt."
"I figured."
Astrid closed her book. "But it also made me realize something."
Ellie waited.
"I waited too long," Astrid said. "I thought I had time. I thought you'd always… be there. But I let you go without even fighting for you."
Ellie swallowed. "You left."
"I know," Astrid whispered. "And I'm sorry."
Ellie didn't speak for a long time. Then, softly, she said, "There was a time when I would have given anything to hear that."
"And now?"
Ellie looked out the window. "Now, I think I just needed to say goodbye properly."
Astrid looked down at her hands. "Do you love her?"
Ellie smiled. "I'm starting to."
There it was. The truth.
Astrid's shoulders slumped slightly, but she nodded. "She makes you happy."
"She does."
"Then that's enough," Astrid said, and for once, she meant it.
They sat a while longer, not as lovers or exes or what-could-have-beens, but as people learning how to let go.
When Ellie left the library, the air felt lighter.
Later that night, she met up with Kyla at their usual spot by the river. The water shimmered under the moonlight. Kyla handed her a cup of iced tea and bumped her shoulder gently.
"You okay?"
Ellie nodded. "Yeah. I talked to her."
Kyla blinked, surprised. "You did?"
"We needed closure."
"And did you get it?"
Ellie smiled, leaning her head on Kyla's shoulder. "Yeah. I think we both did."
They sat in silence, the kind that didn't need to be filled with words. Ellie closed her eyes, breathing in the cool night air. The hurt hadn't disappeared completely. Maybe it never would. But it wasn't holding her down anymore.
She wasn't chasing ghosts.
She was building something new.
With Kyla.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, that felt like enough.