Chapter Eleven: He Doesn't Let Her Disappear
Feifei thought choosing herself would feel empowering all the time.
Some days it did.
Other days, it felt lonely.
She had grown used to moving quietly through school again—arriving early, leaving quickly, keeping her emotional distance carefully measured. It was safer that way. Less confusing.
But Kael didn't disappear the way she expected him to.
He didn't chase her.
Didn't confront her in front of people.
Didn't demand explanations she wasn't ready to give.
He just stayed… present.
Sometimes she noticed him nearby—across the courtyard, in the library, walking the same direction home. He never forced conversation. Never made her feel cornered.
One afternoon, she found him sitting on the low wall behind the library, the place where everything had spilled out days earlier.
She slowed without realizing it.
"You don't have to stop," Kael said when he saw her. "I was just thinking."
Feifei hesitated, then sat a short distance away.
The silence stretched.
Not heavy. Just waiting.
"I meant what I said," she spoke first. "About needing space."
"I know," Kael replied. "I wasn't trying to change your mind."
She glanced at him. "Then why are you still here?"
He looked ahead, not at her.
"Because choosing yourself doesn't mean you have to disappear," he said calmly. "And I didn't want you to think I'd stop caring just because you stepped back."
Her chest tightened.
"Most people do," she said quietly.
"Most people don't understand boundaries," he answered.
That simple statement unraveled something in her.
They sat there until the sky began to soften with evening light. No big confessions. No dramatic moments.
Just presence.
When Feifei stood to leave, she paused. "Thank you… for not taking it personally."
Kael nodded. "Thank you for trusting me enough to be honest."
As she walked away, Feifei realized something important.
For the first time, someone wasn't trying to save her.
They were just letting her exist.