Chapter 36 The girl in his arms

Chapter 36 The girl in his arms
Michael had just finished speaking to the doctor about his father’s condition when Aria, his childhood friend, hovered beside him. She kept asking if he was okay, touching his arm the way she always did when she was worried. He didn’t have the strength to push her away. Not today.

He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to hold himself together. His father’s situation wasn’t good, and the doctor’s tone made that painfully clear. He felt the old heaviness settle in his chest again and the one that came every time life reminded him he didn’t get to keep much.

He turned slightly to lean against the wall, and that was when he saw a familiar figure at the far end of the hallway.

A girl with long pink streaked hair, her head was lowered and her shoulders were tight. It was definitely Daphne.

His heart dropped straight to the floor, and without hesitation, no confusion, and no doubt, he knew her shape and her posture.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

He took one step toward her, but she had already turned around, moving quickly toward the elevator, Michael’s breath caught.

He didn’t think, he followed.

“Daphne,” he called quietly.

She didn’t stop.

She walked faster, almost like she didn’t hear him, but he knew she did. He could always tell when she was shutting something out. When she reached the lobby doors, he quickened his pace.

She pushed through them and stepped outside into the open air, stopping only when she reached the bus stop near the road. She stood there with her arms folded, staring straight ahead as if focusing too hard on nothing.

He walked up behind her until he stood at her side.

“Daphne.”

She didn’t look at him.

Her voice came out flat, barely above a whisper.

“Don’t touch me.”

He didn’t. He kept his hands at his sides.

“I wasn’t going to,” he said quietly. “But you can’t just walk away like that.”

She let out a breath, sharp and uneven.

“You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t walk away from.”

He moved in front of her so she had to see him. Her eyes were calm, too calm, the kind of calm that came from exhaustion and disappointment layered together.

“You saw something,” he said softly.

She blinked once, slowly.

“I didn’t see anything. It’s not my business.”

“That’s not true.”

“Michael, I’m not doing this here.”

He stepped closer. “Then where?”

She looked away toward the street.

“You were hugging her,” she said, tone quiet but steady. “And I realized I don’t know anything about your world. Not really. You keep everything to yourself.”

“So you followed me,” he said.

“Because I was worried.”

“I know.”

“And maybe I shouldn’t have been.”

Her voice cracked slightly on the last word before she caught herself.

A bus approached in the distance, rumbling toward them.

Michael reached out and took her wrist gently, stopping her before she could step forward.

“That girl is my neighbor,” he said. “My childhood friend. She panics over everything. She hugs everyone. She’s always been like that.”

Daphne kept her face turned away, trying to keep her expression flat.

“You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Yes,” he said, “I do.”

“No, you don’t. We’re not…” She paused and swallowed. “We’re nothing.”

“That’s what you think?”

“That’s what it needs to be.”

His jaw tightened.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you don’t tell me anything.” Her voice was shaking now, even though she was trying to keep it level. “You hide everything from me. You act like I’m this problem you have to manage. And I don't like it.”

He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come.

She nodded, confirming the silence for him.

“That’s what I thought,” she whispered.

The bus pulled up and the doors opened. People got on.

People got off. Daphne was contemplating getting on the bus or listening to what Michael had to say, and in the end, she didn’t move toward the bus.

Michael didn’t let go of her wrist.

He stared at her like she was the only steady thing in his life.

“You think this hurts only you,” he said. “But it doesn’t.”

She finally met his eyes.

“It hurts me too,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked at him like she didn’t want to understand what that meant. Maybe because it would make everything harder.

He released her wrist slowly, giving her space.

“If you want to leave,” he said, “I won’t stop you.”

But she stayed where she was.

His phone rang.

The sound cut through everything between them.

He answered without looking away from her.

“Hello?”

Aria spoke quickly, voice urgent.

“Michael, your father…he’s crashing. You need to come now.”

His stomach dropped.

“I’m coming,” he said.

He hung up and tried to steady his breathing, but he couldn’t hide the panic on his face.

Daphne saw it immediately.

“Go,” she said softly. “Go now.”

He didn’t argue.

He turned and ran back into the hospital, his footsteps loud against the quiet sidewalk.

Daphne stayed where she was, staring after him, her chest tight and her eyes burning even though she refused to cry.

The bus pulled away, leaving her alone on the sidewalk.

She pressed

a hand against her mouth, trying to push down everything she felt.

“I’m not walking away from him,” she whispered to herself. “Not this time.”