Liam turned first, his movements slow, deliberate. His hand brushed mine one last time before falling away, leaving behind a ghost of warmth in the cold.
I followed his gaze.
Aaron stood framed in the doorway, arms crossed, posture rigid. His jaw was locked tight, his mouth a hard, grim line. But it was his eyes—the way they raked over the scene before him—that cut deepest. He looked at us like a wildfire surveying a forest, ready to consume every trace of what once was.
The air between us crackled, heavy and brittle. I swallowed hard. "Liam, this is Aaron. Aaron... Liam."
Liam gave a nod—polite, detached—the kind of nod you offer a rival before a duel. His mouth twisted into a faint smile that didn't touch his eyes. ""Oh, hi, we were just discussing cosmic parasites, nice to finally meet you."
Aaron didn't smile. He didn't move. His gaze dropped for the briefest second to where Liam's hand had been on mine, and something dark flickered across his face.
I cleared my throat, forcing my voice through the thick tension. "Aaron, what are you doing here?"
His stare pinned me where I stood. There was something desperate in it, something fractured. His voice low, almost hoarse. "I thought we could talk."
I stood frozen, torn between a thousand versions of myself—the girl who once would have run to him, the woman who now felt the ground shifting under her feet.
Aaron stepped forward, just slightly. "Alone," he added, pointedly.
The word sliced the air between us. I felt Liam shift beside me in quiet, steady loyalty. He didn't move to hold me back. He simply stood there, waiting. Letting me decide.
I turned to him. Liam's eyes met mine—blue, open, steady, without a hint of pressure. If anything, there was a kind of pride in them. A silent vow that no matter what I chose, I wouldn't be standing alone.
He gave a small nod, the ghost of a grin tugging at his lips. I'll be outside," he said with a grin. "Decoding star charts in the parking lot. Shout if you need backup—or a dramatic exit strategy.."
A breathless laugh broke free from my chest, shaky but real. Then he stepped closer—close enough that only I could hear him—and whispered, fierce and sure: "You owe him nothing. Youronly debt is to your own happiness." He squeezed my hand once, firm and grounding. Then he turned and walked away without another word, without another glance back, leaving me standing in the eye of the storm.
Aaron took a breath, as if steeling himself. The door clicked shut behind Liam, leaving me alone with the past I'd been running from—and the future waiting for me to claim it. The silence stretched between us like a tightrope, fraying. Aaron's eyes were glassy now, but his voice stayed low, careful—like he knew one wrong move would send the whole moment crashing.
"June..." His voice was raw silk. "Please. Just... tell me what to do. Anything. If there's something—anything—I can do to make you forgive me, I'll do it. I swear."
I didn't answer. Not right away. Just looked at him. This boy who once held all my love in his hands and treated it like something replaceable. This man now standing in front of me like the ache in his chest was new—like mine hadn't been echoing for months before he noticed.
He waited. And I let him. Because sometimes silence is the only way to show how deep the wound really went. He stepped closer, his expression cracking. "Say something. Yell at me. Curse me out—just... don't shut me out."
I swallowed hard. The words came like breath through a bruise.
"I already said everything, Aaron." My voice didn't shake. It was still, and it was final. "You made your choice. And when you did, you taught me how to survive without you."
He flinched. Just barely. "So now..." I exhaled slowly, evenly. "Do it again. Leave me alone."
His brows drew in. "June—"
"No."
One word. Clear. Full stop. "I'm asking for space. And if there's even an ounce of respect left in you, you'll give me that. You'll give me the quiet I need to finally stop bleeding."
He gave a small nod and turned away, the weight of it pulling his shoulders down. After a while, I stepped out of the studio like I was surfacing from underwater—lungs tight, chest heavy, silence ringing in my ears. The city evening had softened; the air cool but not unkind. I needed that—kindness. Quiet. I wasn't even sure where I was going, only that I needed to not bein thereanymore.
Then I saw him.
Liam was sitting on the low wall by the streetlamp, knees drawn up, iPad in his lap, the screen casting a soft glow on his face. He looked up the second the door shut behind me. No questions. Just that look—open, warm, steady.
"Hey," he said, his voice as gentle as starlight. ""I thought I'd wait for you. You don't have to say anything. Just... come sit?"
I walked to him before I could think too much about it, the tension in my shoulders loosening with every step. He scooted over, made space like he always did. As I sat beside him, he didn't reach for me. He didn't crowd the moment. He just offered me quiet. Safety. A soft space to fall into.
"I was just charting the night," he said, glancing back at the screen. "Apparently, the moon's in Gemini. Which either meansemotional duality or that the universe wants us to go dancing again."
