Chapter 27: Long wait ends

Milie's POV

I didn't realise how badly I'd hurt him until he disappeared.

Not just distant. Not just quiet. Gone.

My phone stopped lighting up. No random texts. No sarcastic comments. No "did you eat?" messages.

Nothing.

And the silence didn't just stay in my room; it followed me everywhere.

I kept checking my phone anyway. Reflex, maybe. Or hope. But his name never showed up.

He even came to visit Dad, but made sure I wasn't home. That hurt more than anything else.

He wasn't angry. He had just closed the door.

Sammy was in touch with him, but even he didn't help.

For once, he didn't joke his way out of things or take my side. He just looked at me like I'd crossed a line.

"You messed up," he had said.

And the worst part? I agreed.

For the next few days after our last encounter, I tried finding Alan around campus.

Different buildings. Different times. I even checked places he barely went to.

He was nowhere. It was like he had erased himself from everywhere I could reach.

One night, I couldn't take it anymore.

I grabbed my keys and left before I could overthink it.

"Not today," I muttered to myself as I rang the doorbell. "He’s talking to me right now."

His grandma opened the door. "Milie?" she said, surprised. "Sweetheart, what are you doing here?"

"Is Alan home?" I asked, a little too quickly. "I need to talk to him."

Her expression shifted, soft but hesitant.

"He’s not here, honey. He’s not even in the town."

My stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"

"He is out of town," She said gently. "For a college program."

I blinked. "Out of town…?"

"Yes, for eight weeks."

"Eight weeks?" The number hit harder than anything else.

I actually felt it like something sinking straight through my chest.

"Oh."

That was all I managed before my vision blurred.

"Hey—hey, you okay?" she asked, reaching for me.

Before I could answer, his Mom was there, guiding me inside.

"Sit down," she said softly, pressing a glass of water into my hands. "Easy."

I didn't even realise I was crying until she wiped my cheek.

"He didn’t tell you?" she asked, watching me carefully.

I shook my head.

She sighed under her breath. "That boy…"

There was something in her tone, frustration, but not surprise.

I looked between them, suddenly unsure. Did they know? Did they know what I had done?

"Is she…?" his grandma started quietly, glancing at his Mom.

"No," she cut in gently. "Let’s not assume anything."

Then she turned back to me, softer this time. "Do you want me to call him?"

I wiped my face quickly. "No."

They both paused.

"He won't pick up," I added, forcing a small, weak smile. "It’s okay. It’s not… urgent."

It wasn't true. It felt like the most urgent thing in the world.

But I couldn't drag them into this. Not when I was the one who had pushed him away.

"I should go," I said, standing up.

"Milie—" his Mom started.

"I’m okay," I said quickly. "Really."

At the door, his grandma squeezed my hand.

"He’s soft at heart," she said with a small smile. "He won’t stay upset for long."

I nodded, even though something inside me said otherwise.

That night, I didn't sleep.

Or the nights after that. I found myself on the balcony more often than anywhere else.

Same spot. Same railing. The exact place where he had sat that night.

I replayed everything. His stupid jokes. Our night in the corridor. His smirks. The way he noticed things no one else did.

And the way he had walked away.

Every single night, I told myself I wouldn't think about him again. And every single night, I failed.

I didn't know what it was anymore. Guilt. Attachment. Or something deeper I didn't want to name yet.

All I knew was I wanted him back.

Not halfway. Not as "just someone."

I wanted him back fully.

Weeks passed. I smiled when I had to—studied when I had to. Sat with Sammy and Daxton like nothing had changed.

But inside, I was hurting every single day.

"Milie, read this," Daxton said one afternoon, tapping his book.

Sammy groaned from the beanbag. "Bro, just say the whole syllabus is important and be done with it."

"Seriously," I muttered, rubbing my forehead. "Why do exams even exist?"

"So we suffer together," Sammy replied, already halfway into a game on his phone.

For a moment, it almost felt normal... Almost, and then my phone buzzed.

I picked it up absentmindedly—and froze.

"Grace Aunty calling."

I shot up from the bed and walked straight to the balcony.

"Hi, Aunty… is everything okay?" I asked quickly.

"No, no, everything's fine," she said. "I just thought you should know… Alan's back. He'll be home in about fifteen minutes."

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

"He's… back?"

"Yeah."

My grip tightened on the phone. "Fifteen minutes."

After eight weeks of silence, it was down to fifteen minutes.

"Can I come over?" I blurted before I could think. "Before he gets there?"

There was a small pause, then a warm smile in her voice. "Of course, sweetheart. That's why I called."

"Thank you," I whispered, already moving. "Thank you so much."

By the time I hung up, my hands were shaking. Not fear. Not anxiety. Something heavier.

"Milie?" Daxton's voice came from behind me. "What's wrong?"

I turned, forcing myself to stay steady.

"Not now," I said quickly. "I'll explain later. Just trust me?"

He searched my face for a second, then nodded. "Fine."

I didn't waste another second. I reached his house, and my heartbeat was louder than the doorbell.

"Come in," his grandma said, smiling.

I stepped inside, my legs feeling strangely unsteady.

I sat at the edge of the couch, my foot tapping uncontrollably against the floor.

His grandma sat beside me, gently holding my hand.

"I'm glad he has someone like you," she said softly. "Otherwise, most of the friends he made had always taken advantage of him."

My chest tightened. She didn't know. She didn't know I was, too, one of those friends.

"He's always been like that," she continued. "Giving more than he gets. Even as a kid."

I swallowed hard.

"He'd come home and pretend everything was fine," she said with a faint smile. "But I knew. He craved one loyal friend."

Tears burned behind my eyes. I had done the same thing to him.

The doorbell rang, and everything inside me went haywire.

His Mom and Grandma rushed to the door, their voices lighting up instantly.

I couldn't move. I just stood there, gripping the edge of the table, staring at the hallway.

Then I heard his voice. And everything inside me broke at once.

His bag rolled in first. Then him. For a second, neither of us moved.

His eyes found mine. "Milie."

And just like that—everything I had been holding together for weeks came crashing down.

The room tilted, and my vision blurred.

And before I could hold myself together, everything went black.