The night grew heavier. The fan hummed softly in the corner, and the smell of alcohol floated faintly between them.
Elena sat cross-legged on the couch, the half-empty glass resting beside her. Nathan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes searching her face.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked quietly. "You've been quiet since your call. You look… off."
She gave a weak smile. "I'm fine. Just— you know when you talk to your mom and she says something that hits deeper than it should?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah."
"She reminded me of my dad," Elena said under her breath, her voice cracking a little. "It's just— it hurts sometimes. How life's been unfair to us."
Nathan wanted to say something, but he didn't. He just watched her take another small sip from the glass.
After a moment, he cleared his throat. "You said you wanted to drink, but maybe what you really want is to talk."
Elena looked up at him. "Then talk," she said. "You said earlier you wanted us to talk. So talk."
Nathan inhaled deeply, then leaned back.
"Alright," he said. "First of all… when everything happened, I was angry. Really angry. At you, but mostly at myself. I couldn't believe you'd do that to me — especially after I told you why I'm scared to love again. Why I guard my heart."
He looked down at his hands. "I told myself you didn't care. That you never did. I said stupid things just to hurt you — that someone else was a blessing and you were a lesson." He shook his head. "That was a lie. I just wanted to make you move on… and maybe make myself believe I could too. But when I saw those notes you left behind, I couldn't. I read every single one, Elena. And that's when I knew I hadn't grown past you."
Elena's eyes softened. She placed the glass aside. "Nathan…"
"No," he cut in gently. "Let me finish. I don't want to play the victim anymore. I still like you. Maybe too much. I've thought about everything, and I want us to try again — properly this time. But before we do, I need to know why. Why you did what you did."
The room went still. Only the ticking clock filled the silence.
Elena took a deep breath. "It wasn't because I didn't trust you," she began quietly. "I was scared. Scared of needing you too much. Scared that asking for help would make me weak, or bring me back to the kind of pain I fought hard to escape."
She looked down, twisting her fingers together. "That time you said you were stranded, I thought— maybe it wasn't the right moment to talk about what I needed. So I tried to handle it myself. But then Marcus showed up. He always somehow knows when I'm struggling, and he took advantage of that. I didn't even let him help, but things got messy fast. And when I finally told my friend, that's how you found out. I wasn't hiding it forever. I just… didn't know how to say it."
Her voice trembled now. "Someone who can't even ask for help— how do you expect her to open up about her pain?"
Nathan's jaw tightened. He reached out slowly, resting his hand over hers.
She looked up at him again, eyes wet. "Everything fell apart after that. I couldn't forgive myself. But I never stopped caring about you. I just thought letting life move me forward was the only way to survive it."
Nathan's hand squeezed hers. "And now?" he asked softly.
She breathed out. "Now… I'm tired of running from what I feel. You said you forgave me, and if you meant it — then maybe we can start again. Just not as the people who hurt each other, but as the people who finally understand each other."
Nathan's gaze softened. He nodded slowly, then reached for her glass. "Then let's drink to that," he said with a faint smile.
She smiled too, a small one — broken but honest.
They drank. Talked. Laughed a little. Fell silent again.
The night drifted quietly between them, carrying old memories that refused to fade, but somehow, for the first time in a long while… it didn't feel heavy anymore