Aria learned very early in life that silence could be louder than words.
It followed her into the morning like a shadow she couldn't shake thick, heavy, and pressing against her chest. The sun streamed through her curtains, painting golden streaks across the walls, but it did nothing to lift the weight settling deep inside her. She lay still for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything from the night before.
Julian's voice.
His eyes.
The way he had looked at her like he was afraid she might disappear if he blinked too long.
She exhaled slowly and sat up.
This wasn't how love was supposed to feel… was it?
Her phone buzzed softly beside her. She didn't need to check the screen to know who it was. Julian had always had a way of sensing when she pulled away, like he could feel the distance even without words.
She picked it up anyway.
Julian:
Good morning, Ari. I hope you slept well.
A pause.
Then another message appeared.
Julian:
I know things felt heavy last night. I just want you to know I'm here. No pressure.
Her fingers hovered over the screen. She wanted to reply. She really did. But every response she formed felt dishonest. How could she explain the storm inside her without sounding ungrateful? How could she tell him she was scared of love, of expectation, of being needed too much?
She locked the phone and stood.
Downstairs, the house was quiet. Her parents had already left for work, leaving behind the familiar scent of brewed coffee and toast. Aria poured herself a glass of water and leaned against the counter, grounding herself in the coolness of the glass.
She wasn't running from Julian.
She was running from what loving him might demand.
Later that afternoon, Chloe dragged her out of the house against her will.
"You've been acting weird," Chloe said bluntly as they walked down the sidewalk, iced coffees in hand. "And by weird, I mean emotionally unavailable Aria which is not your brand."
Aria sighed. "I'm just tired."
Chloe stopped walking and turned to her. "That's a lie."
Aria looked away.
"Okay," Chloe continued gently, "then don't explain. But don't pretend you're fine either. Julian's trying, Aria. Like really trying."
That made her chest ache.
"I know," Aria whispered. "That's the problem."
Chloe frowned. "How is that a problem?"
"Because he loves me in a way I don't know how to return yet," Aria admitted. "And I'm scared that one day he'll realize he's giving more than I am."
Chloe studied her for a long moment. "Or maybe you're just afraid of letting someone see all of you."
Aria didn't respond.
Because Chloe was right.
That evening, Julian showed up anyway.
She hadn't invited him. She hadn't replied to his messages. Yet there he was, standing at the gate with his hands in his jacket pockets, eyes hopeful but careful.
When she opened the door, he smiled not wide, not forced. Just soft.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," she replied.
They stood there awkwardly for a second before he cleared his throat. "I wasn't sure if you wanted space or company. I figured I'd offer myself as an option."
That made her smile despite herself.
She stepped aside. "Come in."
They didn't sit close at first. There was a respectful distance between them on the couch, like an unspoken agreement not to cross emotional lines too quickly. Julian rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor before finally speaking.
"I don't want to overwhelm you," he said quietly. "But I also don't want to pretend I don't feel what I feel."
Aria swallowed.
"I care about you," he continued. "Deeply. And I'm not asking for promises. I just want honesty."
She turned toward him then. "What if my honesty isn't pretty?"
He met her gaze. "Then I'll still listen."
That was what broke her.
"I'm scared, Julian," she confessed. "Every time things start to feel real, I panic. Not because of you but because I'm afraid of losing myself in someone else's expectations."
Julian nodded slowly. "I don't want to own you, Aria. I want to walk beside you."
Her eyes burned.
"You don't have to love me the way I love you," he added gently. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I'd rather be close to you honestly than loved falsely."
She reached for his hand without thinking.
He didn't squeeze. Didn't pull her closer. He just let her hold it.
And for the first time in a long while, Aria didn't feel trapped.
She felt seen.
Later, after Julian left, Aria stood by her bedroom window, watching his car disappear down the street. Her heart felt sore but lighter, like something fragile had been handled with care instead of force.
Love wasn't loud.
It wasn't rushed.
And maybe just maybe it didn't have to cost her herself.
As she climbed into bed, her phone buzzed one last time.
Julian:
Thank you for trusting me tonight. Sleep well, Ari.
She smiled softly.
And for the first time, she didn't wonder if love would break her.
She wondered if she was finally ready to let it stay.