Her parents didn't ask anything further.
By the end of the night, the decision was made. After a brief discussion filled with careful words and concerned glances, they booked her flight for tomorrow evening. One by one, they retreated to their rooms, leaving the house wrapped in a silence that felt heavier than before.
Rose didn't sleep.
She sat by the window of her room, knees pulled close to her chest, the cool night air brushing softly against her skin. The curtains moved gently as the wind slipped inside, lifting her hair and letting it fall again—light, restless, just like her heart.
The night was calm. Too calm.
The sky stretched endlessly above her, dark and beautiful, scattered with stars that shimmered like they knew something she didn't. Her eyes reflected their glow—bright, glassy—as if she was holding something inside them. Something fragile.
But she didn't let it fall.
"He must have had a reason," she told herself quietly.
That was how Rose always was—understanding, even when it hurt.
She replayed the call again and again, wondering why she hadn't asked him to explain. Why she hadn't asked him to try again. Why she had agreed so easily, like she always did when it came to him.
"He always agrees with me," she thought.
"So I should respect his decision too."
That was why she didn't complain.
Why she didn't question him.
Why she didn't ask him to reconsider.
But now—sitting alone in the dark—regret crept in softly.
"What if I meet him one more time?"
"What if we talk face to face?"
"What if he understands… and agrees that long distance could work?"
The thought made her chest tighten.
She blamed herself for deciding too quickly—again. For moving ahead before letting her heart catch up. Rose had always been like that—thinking after everything was already done.
Her mind wandered back to memories she hadn't invited.
The way Travis understood her silences.
The way he never complained about her disappearing into her own world.
The way he defended her when his friends called her a nerd.
"I like her the way she is," he used to say.
And he meant it.
He was her best friend before he was her boyfriend. Her comfort before he was her love. And even now, she couldn't bring herself to think of him as someone from her past.
She hadn't told him she was leaving yet.
She didn't know how to face him with a calm smile while her heart was breaking quietly inside. So instead, she chose distance. Chose silence. Chose to run.
Not because she was strong—
But because staying hurt more.
As the night deepened, Rose rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window, breathing slowly, letting the wind carry pieces of her pain away.
Tomorrow, she would leave.
With unanswered questions.
With unspoken words.
With love she never learned how to let go of.
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