The tension had been simmering for days, thickening like storm clouds waiting to break. Every word unspoken, every glance avoided, every hand not held—each became another crack in the glass of their fragile happiness.
By the time it happened, neither April nor Brandy was surprised. They had both felt it building, inevitable as thunder after lightning.
The Beginning of the Storm
It started on an ordinary Tuesday evening. April had spent the day at work reviewing her upcoming assignment abroad. She had printed forms, answered emails, talked to her mentor. Each task made the opportunity more real, more imminent.
When she walked into Brandy's apartment that night, clutching a folder of documents, she found him sprawled on the couch, the TV flickering in the background. A half-finished beer sat on the coffee table.
"Hey," she said softly, placing the folder down.
He looked up at her, his eyes shadowed, his jaw tight. "Hey."
She waited for him to smile. He didn't.
She sat beside him, close but not touching. "Long day?"
Brandy shrugged. "Just the usual." His tone was clipped, but his eyes flicked toward the folder she'd set down. "What's that?"
April hesitated. "The paperwork. For the overseas position."
The silence that followed felt like a slap.
Sparks Ignite
Brandy sat up, turning off the TV. His eyes locked on hers, sharp, almost accusing. "So it's official then? You're really going?"
April's heart pounded. She had expected resistance, but not like this—not with that edge in his voice.
"I haven't decided yet," she said quickly. "I'm still thinking about it. But they need an answer soon."
"Thinking about it," he repeated bitterly. "April, you've been 'thinking about it' for weeks. Do you even realize how it feels? Watching you plan your escape right in front of me?"
Her breath caught. "Escape? Brandy, this isn't about escaping. This is my dream. You know that."
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "No. All I know is that you're ready to leave me behind."
April's Anger
The words stung, more than she wanted to admit. April felt heat rise in her chest, a fire of frustration and guilt mixing until it burned.
"That's not fair," she snapped. "I'm not leaving you, I'm pursuing something I've worked for my whole life. Why does it have to be one or the other?"
"Because that's what it is," Brandy shot back. "You can't be here and there at the same time. You can't build a life with someone while running off to chase something else."
April stood, her hands trembling. "Why do you make it sound like I have to choose between being yours and being myself? I love you, Brandy, but I can't—won't—give up everything I've dreamed of just to prove it."
Brandy's Fear Turns to Fury
Brandy rose too, his chest heaving. "You think I'm asking you to give everything up? No. I just want to know that I matter. That when you look at your future, I'm in it. But right now? I don't see myself there at all."
April's eyes blurred with tears. "Of course you matter! God, Brandy, you're everything to me. But why isn't that enough? Why do you need me to cut off my wings to prove I won't fly away from you?"
He flinched, the words cutting deeper than she realized. His fists clenched at his sides, the storm inside him finally breaking.
"Because people do fly away!" His voice cracked, raw. "My dad did. He walked out and never came back. And every day since I met you, I've been waiting—terrified—that you'll do the same. And now here you are, suitcase already in hand."
April's Breaking Point
April froze, stunned. He had never spoken of his father before, not like this. The pain in his voice, the desperation, shook her.
But instead of softening, her own pain twisted tighter.
"Brandy…" Her voice trembled. "I'm not your father. I'm not going to disappear without a word. I want us to survive this. But you don't trust me. You only see the worst."
Her tears spilled over now, hot against her cheeks. "Do you know what it feels like? To love someone with everything you are, and still feel like it's never enough?"
Silence Like Shattered Glass
The room went quiet, except for the sound of their breathing—hers ragged, his heavy. The weight of everything unsaid finally lay bare between them.
Brandy's eyes softened for a moment, regret flickering there. He reached for her, as if to pull her into his arms, to apologize. But April stepped back.
The movement was small, but it cut him like a blade.
Her voice was hoarse when she whispered, "I need some air."
She grabbed her bag, not looking at him, and walked out the door before he could answer.
Brandy Alone
The door closed with a hollow sound, and Brandy sank onto the couch, head in his hands. His chest felt like it was caving in.
He wanted to run after her. To beg her to stay. To take back everything he'd said.
But fear froze him. Fear that if he chased her, she'd only push further away.
So he sat there, alone with the ghosts of his past and the echo of her tears.
April Alone
April walked aimlessly through the city streets, the night air sharp against her skin. Her vision blurred, but she didn't bother wiping away the tears.
She loved him. God, she loved him. But how could love feel so suffocating?
She thought of the dreams she'd nurtured since she was a girl, of the career she had fought tooth and nail to build. Could she really abandon it all? And yet, the thought of losing Brandy hollowed her out completely.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from him lit the screen: I'm sorry.
She stared at it, her heart twisting. Her thumb hovered, but she didn't reply. Not yet. Not when the wound was still fresh, when the silence still screamed louder than words.
Two Hearts, One Battle
That night, in two different apartments, April and Brandy lay awake. Both reached for their phones. Both typed messages they didn't send.
I love you.
I need you.
Don't give up on me.
Delete. Delete. Delete.
Their love had been tested—and neither knew if it would withstand the storm.