My chest heavy.
My mind—
Loud.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
Not about any of it.
But—
I didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t do anything.
And in that silence—
Something broke.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Flora let out a quiet breath.
Then nodded.
Once.
“Right,” she said.
And this time—
She didn’t look angry.
Didn’t look frustrated.
Didn’t look anything like she had before.
She just looked…
Done.
“Got it,” she added.
Then she turned—
And walked away.
No one stopped her.
Not even me.
Chapter Ten
The Promise
I didn’t expect to see her again.
Not like this.
Not outside of everything.
Not where there were no distractions.
No group.
No noise.
No version of reality to hide behind.
She was waiting near the gates.
Like she knew I’d walk that way.
Like she knew I hadn’t changed that much.
For a second—
I thought about turning around.
Pretending I hadn’t seen her.
Going back.
Back to something easier.
Quieter.
But she had already seen me.
“Liam.”
There was no anger in her voice.
That would’ve been easier.
I walked over anyway.
Slowly.
Like the ground might give out under me if I moved too fast.
“Hey,” I said.
It sounded wrong.
Too normal.
Too late.
Flora looked at me.
Really looked.
Like she was trying to figure out who I was now.
“Why didn’t you come?” she asked.
No build-up.
No hesitation.
I swallowed.
“I—”
Nothing came out.
She nodded slightly.
Like she expected that.
“They removed me,” she said.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Her voice didn’t rise.
Didn’t crack.
It just—
Stayed steady.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
A pause.
Then—
“Okay.”
That one word landed heavier than anything else.
“You didn’t say anything,” she continued.
Not accusing.
Not dramatic.
Just—
Fact.
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“That’s not true.”
I looked at her.
She didn’t look angry.
That was the problem.
“You knew exactly what to say,” she said. “You just didn’t.”
My chest tightened.
“That’s not—”
“It is.”
Silence stretched between us.
“I couldn’t just—” I started.
“Couldn’t just what?” she asked.
“Make it worse.”
Flora let out a quiet breath.
Not a laugh.
Not frustration.
Just—
Disappointment.
“Worse for who?”
I didn’t answer.
Because I knew.
“You think staying made it better?” she asked.
“I made a promise,” I said.
The words felt weak the second they left my mouth.
Flora froze slightly.
Then—
“What?”
“I said I wouldn’t leave again,” I said. “After everything that happened—I said I’d stay.”
She stared at me.
Like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“So you stayed,” she said slowly.
“Yeah.”
“And you think that’s loyalty?”
I didn’t respond.
“That’s not loyalty, Liam,” she said. “That’s control.”
Something in my chest snapped slightly.
“No, it’s not,” I said.
“It is,” she replied immediately. “He didn’t make you stay by force. He made you stay by making you feel like you had to.”
“That’s not—”
“You think he forgot about that promise?”
I stopped.
Because—
No.
He didn’t.
“He brought it up, didn’t he?” she said.
I didn’t answer.
Flora nodded.
Once.
Like that was all she needed.
“Of course he did.”
Silence again.
Heavier this time.
“I thought you’d at least try,” she said quietly.
That one hurt.
More than anything else.
“I did,” I said.
But it sounded wrong.
Even to me.
“No,” Flora said. “You didn’t.”
Her voice didn’t change.
Didn’t rise.
Didn’t break.
“You watched it happen,” she continued. “You saw everything. And you still stayed.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You could’ve left.”
The words hit immediately.
Hard.
“I couldn’t.”
“You wouldn’t,” she corrected.
I looked away.
Because she was right.
“I wasn’t going to leave again,” I said.
“And I wasn’t worth breaking that for?”
That—
That was the moment.
Because there wasn’t a good answer.
There wasn’t a right one.
“I didn’t say that,” I said.
“You didn’t have to.”
Silence.
Cars passed behind us.
People walked by.
Life carried on like this wasn’t happening.
Like something important hadn’t just broken.
“You know what the worst part is?” Flora said.
I didn’t answer.
“I was right.”
I looked back at her.
“About everything,” she continued. “About him. About the group. About what was going to happen.”
A pause.
Then—
“I just thought you’d be on the same side.”
My chest felt hollow.
“I am on your side,” I said.
Flora shook her head.
Slowly.
“No, Liam,” she said.
“You’re not.”
That landed.
Final.
“Because if you were,” she added, “you wouldn’t still be there.”
I didn’t respond.
Couldn’t.
She stepped back slightly.
Creating space.
Distance.
Something permanent.
“I’m not coming back,” she said.
“I know.”
“And you shouldn’t stay.”
I let out a quiet breath.
“I have to.”
Flora looked at me.
One last time.
“No,” she said.
“You don’t.”
Then she turned.
And walked away.
This time—
I didn’t follow.
Not because I didn’t want to.
But because I already knew—
I wasn’t going to.
Chapter Eleven
Zero
It didn’t hit me straight away.
That would’ve been easier.
Cleaner.
Understandable.
I stood there for a while after Flora left.
Not moving.
Not thinking.
Just—
There.
The space she left behind felt wrong.
Too empty.
Too quiet.
Like something had been taken out of the world and nothing had replaced it.
I could still see her.
Walking away.
Not turning back.
Not stopping.
And I didn’t follow.
That was the part that stayed.
Not what she said.
Not how she looked.
That.
I didn’t follow.
My legs gave out before I realised what was happening.
Concrete.
Cold.
Hard.
I hit the ground without catching myself.
Didn’t even try.
For a second—
Nothing.
No thoughts.
No reaction.
Then—
Everything.
It came back wrong.
Not in order.
Not clearly.
Just pieces.
Oliver laughing quietly in the library.
Ethan sitting beside him, close enough to matter.
Flora rolling her eyes, but smiling anyway.
Sarah leaning over, sharing headphones like nothing could touch us.
Anne reading something out loud.
William actually relaxed for once.
Brenda talking too fast because she was excited someone was listening.
James—
No.
My chest tightened.
Breathing felt—
Wrong.
Too fast.
Too shallow.
I pressed my hands against the ground like it would steady me.
It didn’t.
More memories.
Oliver sitting next to me.
Closer.
Closer than before.
Looking at me like something might happen.
Like something could happen.
“I’m asexual.”
The words hit again.
Fresh.
Sharp.
Not because of what they meant.
But because of everything I had built around them.
Everything I had let myself believe.
Everything he let me believe.
My vision blurred.
Flora’s voice—
“You’re not on my side.”
That one stayed.
Didn’t fade.
Didn’t distort.
Clear.
Because it was true.
“I made a promise.”
I let out a broken laugh.
It didn’t sound like mine.
A promise.
To what?
To who?
Not to Flora.
Not to myself.
To them.
To something that didn’t even exist anymore.
The group.
The group that split conversations.
The group that stayed silent.
The group that watched people disappear and said nothing.
The group that I chose.
Over her.
My hands started shaking.
I didn’t try to stop it.
“I stayed.”
The words came out quietly.
Cracked.
Like saying them out loud might change something.
It didn’t.
Because staying wasn’t strength.
It wasn’t loyalty.
It wasn’t anything I told myself it was.
It was fear.
Fear of being outside again.
Fear of being alone.
Fear of being—
Nothing.
And now—
I was anyway.
Because Flora was gone.
Oliver was never mine to begin with.
Sarah wasn’t really there anymore.
Anne was breaking.
William was blind.
Brenda was fading.
And James—
James was still standing.
Exactly where he always was.
Untouched.
A sound left my throat.
I didn’t recognise it.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It was—
Empty.
Like something had been hollowed out and left behind.
I dropped forward slightly.
Hands slipping.
Breath uneven.
More memories.
Faster now.
Harder to separate.
The bench.
The rain.
The ghosts of who we used to be.
Flora sitting beside me.
Still there.
Still real.
“I’m not coming back.”
My chest caved in.
“I know.”
Why did I say that?
Why did I let that be the end?
Why didn’t I—
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Hard.
Like I could force it all back.
Undo it.
Fix it.
But memories don’t rewind.
They just stay.
And they repeat.
Over and over.
Until they don’t feel like memories anymore.
They feel like proof.
Proof of what you did.
Proof of what you didn’t do.
Proof of who you are.
“I didn’t follow.”
That was it.
That was the truth.
The only one that mattered.
I didn’t follow.
The world kept moving.
Cars passing.
Voices in the distance.
Footsteps.
Life continuing like nothing had ended.
But for me—
Something had.
Not loudly.
Not suddenly.
Just—
Completely.
I opened my eyes.
The ground was still there.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Real.
No one was around.
No one was coming.
And for the first time—
There was no version of this where it got better.
No reset.
No return.
No “next time.”
Just—
This.
Me.
Alone.
And the silence I chose.
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