Chapter 8 – Crossed Lines
Zayn hadn't texted in weeks.
Not a "hi," not a "sorry," not even a ghosted emoji to say he remembered she existed. Silence had become his voice. And somehow, that silence was louder than anything he ever said.
But Monday morning, when Elira opened her locker, a note fell out. Folded once, plain white, no name but she knew the handwriting.
"Meet me after school. Just talk. Please. Zayn"
Her hands trembled as she read it over and over, like the words might change. But they never did.
After everything now he wanted to talk?
At break, Zion found her by the stairs, as usual. He could tell something was off before she said a word. Her eyes weren't focused, like her thoughts were miles away.
"Elira?" he asked gently. "What happened?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she handed him the note.
Zion read it, his expression unreadable. When he looked back at her, something in his face had changed not anger, just… concern.
"You're not actually thinking of going, right?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe I need to."
Zion's jaw tightened slightly. "Why? So he can pretend it didn't happen? So he can act like sorry fixes everything?"
"No," she said, her voice calm but heavy. "So I can tell him I'm not waiting anymore."
Zion looked at her for a long time, then nodded. "Okay. But I'll be waiting at the gate after. Just in case."
She smiled softly. "Thank you."
After school, Zayn was already there, leaning against the wall near the back field. He looked nervous not the usual confident, careless Zayn she remembered. His hoodie looked oversized, like he was trying to shrink inside it.
When he saw her, he stood straighter.
"Elira," he said, like her name was something sacred and broken at the same time.
She didn't say anything, just crossed her arms and waited.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Silence.
"I didn't know how to deal with it."
Still, she said nothing.
"I panicked. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to hurt you, but I didn't know how to be… that guy."
Elira looked up at him. Her voice came out steadier than she felt. "You didn't just hurt me, Zayn. You abandoned me."
He looked down. "I know."
"When I told you I was pregnant, I didn't need a perfect boyfriend. I needed a human. Someone to stay. You left."
"I hated myself every day after that," he whispered. "But I was scared."
"I was bleeding, Zayn," she said. Her voice didn't rise, but it cut deep. "You pushed me. I lost a life. And you didn't even check if I was alive."
His face crumbled. "I wanted to. I couldn't face you."
"That's what makes us different," she said, eyes glistening. "I faced it. Every day. Without you."
A long silence.
"I miss you," Zayn said finally. "Even now."
She looked at him for a long time. "I don't miss you. I miss the boy I thought you were."
The walk back to the school gates felt longer than usual. Heavy. Like she'd just dropped a thousand weights she didn't realize she'd been carrying.
Zion was there, just like he said he'd be. Leaning against the fence, earphones in, pretending not to be waiting but she knew he was.
When she reached him, he pulled out one earbud and asked, "How did it go?"
"I said what I needed to," Elira replied.
"Feel better?"
"No. But I feel... clearer."
He nodded, respecting the space she gave in her answer.
They started walking together in silence. But it was a soft kind of silence, not awkward more like peace trying to find its place between two people.
"Zion?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you… for not running."
He glanced at her, then looked straight ahead. "I wasn't trying to replace him, you know."
"I know," she said softly. "You were just there when I needed someone."
"I still am."
She looked over at him, really looked this time. The way his eyes met hers steady, kind, honest. So different from his twin.
"Do you ever think about how weird this is?" she asked. "Me and you. After everything."
Zion chuckled lightly. "Every day."
"And yet…" she began, unsure how to finish the sentence.
"And yet," he repeated, "it feels like the only thing that makes sense."
That night, Elira sat by her window, wrapped in a blanket, staring up at the sky.
For so long, she thought healing meant pretending the pain didn't happen. But maybe Zion was right healing wasn't about forgetting the past.
It was about choosing who you became after it.
And maybe… just maybe… she was ready to choose something better.