Chapter Twenty-Seven: Shadows and Apologies
(Lyra's POV)h
The hallway felt impossibly long. Every step echoed, every laugh and whisper around me sounded louder than it should. I kept glancing at Evan and Aveline… both avoiding me, acting like I didn't exist.
Did I do something wrong? My chest tightened, and a heavy pit of hurt settled in my stomach.
By the time free break hit, I couldn't handle it anymore. I slipped away to the music room — our second spot, quiet, safe, away from everyone. I sank into a corner, pulling my knees close.
The hurt, the jealousy, the sticky note, the kiss from Evan — it all felt like too much. And before I realized it… I relapsed.
The familiar sting, the tears, the shame… my chest constricted, and I felt entirely alone.
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I sat there, heart pounding, sobbing quietly, feeling smaller than ever. I can't… I can't do this alone.
I grabbed my phone with shaky hands and dialed Soraya. "Hey… I… I need you," I whispered, barely able to speak.
Moments later, Saphira joined the call too. "Ly… where are you? We're coming," she said, calm, soft, protective.
Within minutes, they were at the music room. I opened the door, mascara streaked down my cheeks, shame curling around me like a heavy blanket.
"Lyra…" Soraya murmured, not asking questions, just wrapping me in a hug. Saphira immediately pressed a hoodie into my hands and gently applied bandages to my wrists.
I couldn't speak. I just cried into their shoulders, shaking.
---
They sat with me, letting me breathe, letting me cry, letting me be broken without judgment.
"Why?" Saphira asked gently. "Tell us."
I hesitated, then whispered everything: Evan, the sticky note, the kiss, the dinner, the jealousy, the hurt. My words tumbled out in uneven gasps.
Soraya rubbed my back. "Oh Ly… we've got you. All of you."
Saphira nodded. "We'll fix this. Don't worry."
After some time, we figured out why — what had been festering between Evan, Aveline, and me, the avoidance, the tension. Soraya and Saphira promised they'd help.
---
They called Evan.
I felt a knot in my stomach. What if he's mad? What if he… hates me?
"Lyra," his voice was soft when he finally answered. "I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have avoided you. I didn't know how to… handle everything."
"I… I just… felt like you didn't care," I admitted, voice breaking.
"I do. I care. More than anything. I messed up. I'll make it right," he whispered, and I could hear the sincerity in every word.
I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the wall. Maybe… maybe it's okay to trust him again.
He stayed on the line, softly apologizing, talking about how he never wanted to hurt me, how he'd handle things better from now on. Slowly, the weight in my chest lifted, replaced by warmth… and a cautious hope.
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By the time I hung up, I was exhausted but… lighter. Soraya and Saphira sat with me for a while longer, teasing gently now, but carefully, letting me know everything would be okay.
And for the first time that day, I truly believed it.