Morning should feel lighter.
It should feel like sunlight through a clean window, or like the soft exhale after a long week, or like the fragile, hopeful moment just before something good begins. But this morning?
This morning felt like someone had piled stones on my ribs while I slept.
I lay staring at the ceiling, listening to the city outside my window — the low hum of traffic, the occasional shout, the rustle of wind weaving its fingers through tree branches. Life moving. Life continuing. Life refusing to pause just because mine felt suspended in some strange emotional purgatory.
I hadn't spoken to Ace.
I hadn't spoken to Lily.
I hadn't spoken to James.
And I sure as hell hadn't spoken to Liam.
My phone sat on the dresser, black screen facing the wall like I'd turned it toward a corner for misbehaving. Really, it was me hiding. Pretending silence was a shield and not a prison.
For a minute, I tried to breathe normally.
I failed.
The anxiety pressed up my throat the same way it always did when things got too close, too intense, too real. I shoved away the blanket and swung my legs over the side of the bed, grounding myself with the feel of the hardwood floor under my bare feet.
Routine.
I needed routine.
Even if it was flimsy, makeshift, held together with coffee and denial.
I padded into the kitchen, boiled water, stared at the kettle until it shrieked like it was accusing me of being a mess. I poured it over instant coffee — because I was too restless to do anything fancier — and braced my hands on the counter.
The memory of Ace on the bridge flashed again.
His eyes.
The worry in them.
The softness he tried to hide.
The guilt he shouldn't have felt.
The way he stood close enough for warmth but far enough for comfort.
It was too much.
I grabbed my mug and retreated to the living room, curling into the corner of the couch like a piece of folded paper. Steam curled around my face. I stared at the swirling surface of the coffee like it held answers.
Everything in me felt… raw.
I pulled my knees to my chest and tried to make myself smaller.
I wasn't avoiding Ace because I hated him.
I wasn't avoiding Lily or James because I didn't trust them.
I wasn't avoiding Liam because I was angry.
No.
I was avoiding everyone because the emotional earthquake of the last forty-eight hours had knocked something loose inside me — something I didn't know how to name.
And naming it felt like handing over control.
So I didn't.
Couldn't.
My phone buzzed on the dresser.
Loud.
Relentless.
Again and again like someone was calling, not texting.
I ignored it.
Five seconds passed.
Then ten.
Then—
A knock at my door.
I froze.
One knock.
Firm.
Too familiar.
Then Lily's voice, muffled but unmistakable.
"Mia? Open up. I swear if you're dead I'm haunting you."
My heartbeat did a graceless somersault.
James's voice followed, softer but worried.
"Mia, please. Just let us in."
I closed my eyes.
And then—
A third voice.
Deep.
Frustrated.
Threaded with something that made my stomach twist.
Ace.
"Mia. Open the door."
I almost dropped my mug.
Of course it would be all three of them.
Of course they'd form a mini-posse to hunt me down.
Of course Ace would come even after I'd ignored all his messages.
I placed the mug on the table with trembling fingers and walked to the door.
Before I even touched the knob, Lily spoke again.
"If you don't open this we're contacting your landlord and telling them you're harboring a raccoon."
I snorted despite myself.
When I finally pulled the door open, Lily shoved past me like a very tiny hurricane, James trailing behind her carrying a grocery bag.
And then Ace walked in.
Or rather — stepped in. Slowly.
Like he wasn't sure whether to cross the threshold.
His eyes swept over me once, cataloguing, calculating, quietly checking for damage. I tugged my sleeve subconsciously, suddenly aware of everything — my messy hair, my rumpled T-shirt, the shadows under my eyes.
He didn't comment.
Didn't let anything show.
But something in his expression softened.
Just a fraction.
And honestly? It was worse seeing his softness than his anger.
Lily whirled around, hands on her hips, a terrifying force of nature in pink sweatpants.
"Explain why you've been ignoring us."
James held up a croissant bag like a peace offering.
"We brought carbs."
I swallowed. "I'm fine."
Ace scoffed — quiet, sharp.
"Mia. You're not fine."
"I'm—"
"You're not."
The room went still.
Lily and James exchanged a look — the oh-the-tension-is-juicy-but-also-concerning look — and made themselves busy unpacking pastries.
I backed toward the couch, trying not to shake.
Ace followed, but kept space between us.
He didn't touch me.
Didn't corner me.
Didn't demand answers.
He just… waited.
Which was somehow worse.
I sat down, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders.
Ace sat on the armchair across from me, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, expression unreadable.
Lily plopped down next to me.
James sat on the floor by the coffee table.
We were a weird little circle of worry and tension.
Lily poked my knee.
"You scared us."
James nodded.
"You scared Ace."
Ace shot him a murderous look.
James raised both hands.
"What? You did."
I felt something crack in my chest.
A thin line of guilt.
A thin line of fear.
"I… just needed time," I whispered.
Ace's jaw flexed.
Not angry.
Just… hurt?
I hated that more than anything.
Lily squeezed my hand.
"And you should've told us."
"I know."
Silence pressed between us — not hostile, just heavy.
Then James said something that detonated the room.
"So… do we talk about Liam?"
My stomach dropped so fast it felt like a physical fall.
Ace's head snapped up.
Lily froze.
James realized a second too late what he'd done.
I stood abruptly.
"I'm not— I can't—"
But before I could flee, someone else spoke.
From the doorway.
"Maybe you should let her decide."
We turned.
Liam stood there.
My first love.
My first heartbreak.
My first everything.
Looking at me like the years between us collapsed into nothing.
My breath stuttered.
Ace stood up instinctively, positioning himself half a step in front of me, subtle but unmistakable.
Protective.
Possessive.
Silent.
James muttered under his breath, "Oh hell."
Lily whispered, "This is going to be bad."
I didn't move.
Couldn't.
Liam's eyes stayed locked on mine.
"Mia," he said softly. "Can we talk?"