65


    50%


    65


    Sienna’s POV


    I rubbed my face, trying to stop the flood. But the more I resisted, the clearer the details became.


    Maybe others would say I was just being too emotional. That I should be able to distinguish between affection and attachment. But who could measure that? Who could decide when love has gone too deep to let go?


    Since a week ago, I’d been trying to write about these feelings-about a loss not caused by death, but by a distance I created


    myself. Every time I started, my words stalled halfway through. Maybe because I knew that if I finished, it would mean admitting I


    had truly left.


    A seagull glided across the sky, its wings spread wide. I imagined Noah, maybe running through the yard, chasing something he could never quite catch. And I… I was that something.


    A small voice inside asked: was I too cruel to him?


    But at the same time, there was a part of me begging not to go back. Not because I didn’t love him, but because I was afraid I’d hurt


    him even more if I stayed.


    Liam.


    The name passed through my mind like a shadow refusing to fade. I remembered our meeting at the café, his halting words, his


    plea for me toe back. A part of me almost caved then-the part that still wanted to believe love could be repaired. 1


    But I also remembered how it felt, after years of trying to enter Liam’s world and never being fully weed. I remembered how


    he chose silence when he should have defended me. I remembered standing alone when all I wanted was for him to stand beside <ol><li></li></ol>


    I let out a long breath.


    Maybe I was tired, but I was also stubborn. I didn’t want to go back just because Liam had suddenly realized what he’d lost. Love


    built out of guilt isn’t whole love. I needed more than regret.


    Then why did I still feel this way? 1


    Why couldn’t I feel truly relieved after leaving?


    My eyes returned to my still-litptop. Maybe I should finish the manuscript. Maybe if I buried myself in deadlines and fiction, I could stop thinking about real life.


    But before I could take that step, my phone buzzed softly.


    I turned my head. An iing call.


    From Liam.


    1:20 AM Tue 2 Sep


    50%


    65


    My heart pounded, but I didn’t pick it up right away. I just stared at the glowing screen, his name disyed clearly. My hand trembled slightly until the call stopped.


    I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff-one step could send me falling again, but standing still wouldn’t save me either.


    I closed my phone slowly and set it on the table. I wasn’t ready to answer. Maybe I never would be.


    I looked out at the calm sea in front of me, as if searching for answers in the rippling waves.


    I missed my child. I missed the version of myself I used to be. But I also knew I could no longer be someone who lived only on the scraps of another person’s attention.


    From a distance, I stared at theptop screen still glowing. The words there seemed to scream to be finished, but my mind was too crowded with things that couldn’t be put into sentences. It felt like a tangled thread-the more I pulled, the more lost the ends


    became.


    I left my half-empty coffee cup and stood from the balcony chair. My body felt heavy, but a small whisper in my head pushed me


    to move.


    Maybe I really did need to go out for a while. To touch the real world, not just stay cooped up in a small room with an unsettled


    mind.


    I took myptop and slipped it into my tote bag, then put on a light cardigan against the morning breeze. My flip-flops slid easily


    onto my feet. I stepped out of the apartment toward the narrow path that led to the beach.


    The sky was still a pale blue. The sun wasn’t too harsh yet, leaving only a faint warmth along the horizon. The salty, humid air


    from the sea greeted me like an old embrace I didn’t realize I’d been missing.


    My steps were slow as I descended the stone stairs toward the stretch of soft sand. The waves rolled gently, quiet-as if they knew


    I hadn’te to celebrate, but to soothe a trembling heart.


    I walked along the shoreline, letting the sand slip between my toes. In my hand, the bag with myptop swayed lightly. I didn’t yet know where I would sit, but I knew I wanted to write somewhere different, in a ce where the atmosphere might heal me, even just a little.


    A few people were jogging, a young couple walked hand in hand, and a small dog ran after a ball its owner had thrown. The world kept moving forward-unconcerned whether my heart was breaking, unconcerned whether I was trying to escape a wound.


    Strangely, thatforted me.


    Then, suddenly, my steps halted.


    In the distance, between the line of rocks and the dampening edge of the shore, I saw a figure I knew all too well. Liam.


    He stood with his back to the sun, the morning light framing his body like the silhouette of a memory. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his shoulders tense-not with anger, but like someone holding a heavy weight in his chest.


    My eyes didn’t blink.


    11:20 AM Tue 2 Sep


    65


    50%


    Liam’s gaze swept the horizon, then slowly shifted toward me. For a fraction of a second, the world seemed to stop moving. There


    was sorrow in his eyes. Not just hurt… but deep regret.


    I should have turned away. I should have spun around and gone back to the apartment, pretending I’d never seen him. But my feet


    were rooted in the sand, as if the earth itself refused to let me go.


    11:20 AM Tue 2 Sep