The sun rose slowly, casting a pale gold over the quiet college town. It was the kind of morning that should've felt peaceful—but for Athena, it only made the ache in her chest more real.
She hadn't gone home.
Instead, she had stayed in the student library all night, curled in a forgotten corner behind the psychology section, wrapped in her hoodie with her phone on silent. Her eyes were heavy from crying, her throat sore from holding back everything she hadn't said.
Mason hadn't called again.
She didn't know if she was relieved or hurt.
She blinked slowly, the light creeping through the high windows. Her limbs ached from sleeping upright, and her heart… well, that still hurt most of all.
She stood up stiffly and made her way to the restroom, splashing water on her face and staring at her reflection. Her eyes were puffy, her hair a mess.
"Get it together," she whispered to herself.
But even saying it felt like a lie.
---
Meanwhile, Mason sat in their apartment—silent, sleepless, and haunted by the weight of his own words.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but when he opened his eyes, it was already morning. His phone was in his hand, her name glowing on the screen from messages he hadn't sent.
> Are you okay?
Please talk to me.
I'm sorry.
He had checked every place she might have gone: her favorite café, the art room, the campus park. Nothing.
And the longer she stayed gone, the more he feared what her silence meant.
He picked up the unopened gift she had left for him. With shaking hands, he unwrapped the ribbon and opened the leather-bound journal. Inside, she had written:
> "Every page is a piece of us. Fill it with memories. Because I believe in forever—as long as you do too."
Guilt choked him.
He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door again.
---
Athena was walking across campus, heading nowhere in particular when she felt a presence behind her.
"Athena!"
She froze.
That voice.
She turned slowly, her expression unreadable as Mason jogged up to her, slightly out of breath.
"I looked everywhere," he said, eyes wide and tired. "You didn't answer your phone—"
"Because I didn't want to talk to you," she cut in, her voice quiet but sharp.
He flinched.
"I know," he said. "I deserved that. I just—I needed to say I'm sorry. Really, truly sorry. I was exhausted and stupid, and I didn't think before I spoke. You didn't deserve any of that."
She stared at him, silent.
"I forgot something important," Mason continued, voice cracking. "I forgot you. And I hate myself for that."
Her chest rose and fell with a shaky breath.
"You can't just apologize every time you mess up and expect it to fix everything," she said, blinking away tears. "I need more than words, Mason.
"I know," he said softly. "That's why I'm not asking you to forgive me right now. I just… I need you to know I see it now. What I've been doing. How I've been letting us slip through my fingers. And I don't want that. I don't want to lose you."
Athena hesitated. Her heart wanted to run into his arms—but her mind screamed caution.
"I need time," she said finally. "Space. To think. To feel like me again."
Mason nodded, swallowing hard. "Take all the time you need. Just… don't give up on us. Please."
She didn't say anything. She just turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of campus, holding the journal she had once given him with hope.
And for the first time in months, Mason realized love wasn't enough if you didn't protect it.