50

50
The rest of the night passed in a strange blur of silence from my end and Anne’s constant chatter, trying to fill the void. I barely heard a thing she said. Not because she wasn’t interesting—Anne always had something to say—but because my thoughts had slipped into another dimension entirely. I wasn’t even sure I blinked for half the ride home.

I was stuck on one thing.

Should I move on?

Should I let Emma go—completely?

But what if there was still a chance? What if everything that happened between us wasn’t just a fleeting moment? What if I was being cowardly, not even trying to reach out to her? What if she had been waiting this entire time for me to call or text?

And if I did contact her and she asked to see me... I was still grounded for ten more days.

Ten. Long. Days.

What exactly am I supposed to do?

“Overthinking much?”

Anne’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts as she hopped into the driver’s seat.

I blinked, turning to her slowly. “How the hell do you do that?”

She didn’t answer. She just laughed.

Like really laughed. A full belly laugh that made her wipe tears from the corners of her eyes.

“Ohhh my God,” she said between giggles. “Of course I knew what you were thinking. You’re my baby sister. You remember when we were kids? We were so close that we didn’t even need to talk—we’d just look at each other and boom! We were already plotting chaos.”

My lips twitched into a small smile. That memory was as clear as day.

I was the rebellious one. The troublemaker. Always getting grounded for something—stealing cookies, scribbling on the walls, coloring the dog’s tail with Mom’s lipstick. Every time I was punished, I’d find a way out. And Anne... Anne was always my partner in crime. One glance, and she’d know I needed help sneaking out of the house or covering for me when Mom caught wind of another one of my escapades.

But that closeness faded when she moved out.

I missed her so much back then. She had her own life, new friends, new boyfriends, while I was stuck at home. I loved our parents, but I never quite found that same connection again—with anyone.

“Reminiscing?” Anne asked.

“Holy shit, Anne!” I nearly jumped out of my seat.

She was laughing again.

“What?” she grinned.

“Stop reading my mind! Just drive, please.”

I must’ve sounded annoyed because she didn’t push further. Instead, she started the engine, and we drove in silence.

I stared out the window, but my thoughts weren’t outside. They were with Emma. My heart felt heavy again. I missed her. So much. It physically ached.

When we reached our building, Anne didn’t say a word, even when I paused outside our door and my eyes flickered to Emma’s apartment. She noticed, I could tell, but she stayed silent. And I was grateful for that.

I went straight to my room, collapsed on my bed, and pulled out my phone.

I scrolled down my contact list and stopped at her name.

Emma.

I hovered my thumb over it.

I started typing.

Hey...
Deleted.

Hi, Em...
Deleted.

Emma.
Deleted.

Ughhhhhh!

I groaned and threw my phone to the far side of the bed. What the hell am I even trying to say?

Anne’s words echoed in my mind.

If you don’t plan on moving on, then you should be fighting for her.

Wasn’t letting me go already a closure? Maybe. But it didn’t feel like one. It felt like an open wound.

I reached for my phone again. My fingers hovered, hesitant and unsure.

Then finally, without thinking too much, I typed:

Emma.

And hit send.

That was it. Just her name.

Pathetic, maybe. But somehow, it felt like a lot.

I stared at the screen, chest tight, heart thumping hard enough to hurt. My mind raced with every possibility. Would she even respond? What if she ignored me? What if—

PING!

The sound made me jolt, nearly throwing the phone in the air.

A message.

From Emma.

Jen...

Just that. My name. But it had... something. The way she wrote it—with the ellipsis. It wasn’t nothing. It felt like longing. Or maybe that was just me, hoping it meant more than it did.

I replied quickly before I could chicken out again.

Uhm... How are you?

As soon as I sent it, I slapped my forehead. Really? How are you?

Out of everything I could’ve asked or said, I picked the most cliché question in existence.

Another ping.

That was fast.

Can you come over?

I froze.

My entire body froze.

What?!

I stared at the message, wide-eyed.

She wanted me to come over.

Now?

I glanced at the clock. 11:07 p.m.

And I’m still grounded.

Dammit!

Panic fluttered through my chest. She wanted to see me. Emma wanted to talk. My stomach flipped, my fingers shook, my whole body was buzzing.

I started pacing my room.

Okay. Okay. Breathe. Think.

I needed to get out of the house—without waking up Mom and Dad.

Another ping.

Jen?

She was waiting.

Anne.

Of course. Anne!

I rushed out to the living room. Anne was lying on the couch, scrolling through her phone like nothing in the world could shake her peace.

She didn’t even look surprised to see me when I ran up.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked, sitting up.

“I need something,” I said, breathless. “And I need you not to say no.”

“Okay?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I need to see Emma.”

There. I said it.

Anne blinked. Then paused. No sarcasm. No teasing.

“Go,” she said simply.

“What?” I blinked.

“You want to go, right? And she’s literally next door. So go.”

I stared at her, trying to figure out if she was messing with me. But no. She was serious.

“Jen,” she said, softer now, “go. But please come back. Tonight. I’ll stay here and cover for you if Mom or Dad wakes up.”

I didn’t think—I just leaned in and hugged her tightly.

Then I left.

I stood in front of Emma’s door, heart pounding, palms sweaty, knees almost buckling under the weight of nerves and memories.

I had stood here so many times before.

Each time filled with joy. Anticipation. Love.

But tonight was different.

I knocked.

Three times.

The door opened in less than ten seconds.

And there she was.

Emma.

Barefoot, wearing an oversized hoodie—one I’d seen her wear a dozen times—and shorts. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she looked... tired. But beautiful.

So beautiful.

We stared at each other, and for a moment, neither of us said a word.

I couldn’t breathe.

Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how to begin.

Then finally, softly—

“Hey.”

That voice. I missed that voice more than I realized.

“Hey,” I replied, almost a whisper.

I stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. What to say.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she said.

I looked at her.

“I didn’t think you’d ask,” I replied.

We both smiled. Just a little.
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