68


    68


    Sienna’s POV


    50%


    We were still walking side by side, our steps slow as we made our way along the shoreline, now gradually crowded with visitors. Some childrenughed joyfully, sand flying as they ran, and the sound of the waves became a peaceful backdrop-yet it also made my chest tight, weighed down by too many unspoken things.


    Liam walked beside me in silence for a moment, then asked, “So… why are you here, Sienna?”


    His pace slowed as his eyes caught sight of my tote bag, a corner of myptop peeking out.


    “Are you here to find inspiration?” he asked more cautiously.


    I stopped walking. My chest felt full. Those questions-no matter how harmless the intention-pierced a private space I wasn’t ready to open.


    The sea breeze swept through my hair, tangling it messily, like my thoughts right now. I looked down, watching our footprints slowly disappear beneath the waves, like my small efforts to forget the real reason I came here. This ce, this beach, was meant to be an escape. Now, I don’t know what it is. Maybe a liminal space, a ce where I can pretend everything is okay.


    Liam was still standing next to me, but I didn’t look at him. I wasn’t tired, yet I couldn’t move. My body suddenly felt too heavy.


    Heavy with the weight I’ve carried all this time, buried deep within, hoping time would somehow dissolve it. But time isn’t a healer. It only makes wounds better at hiding.


    I inhaled deeply, letting the salty air fill my lungs, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. The scent of the ocean,


    usually calming, only reminded me of losses I still hadn’t been able to process. Theptop sticking out of my bag felt like a silent reminder of all the promises I’d once made—to myself, to someone who now was just a name, to a world expecting words from me, as if I weren’t slowly falling apart.


    Everything looked too beautiful to stare at for too long. As if nature was mocking me: look, everything keeps moving, whether or


    not you’re left behind.


    I kept walking. The sand beneath my feet was still warm, but it no longer broughtfort. A distance began to form, even in the


    middle of this crowd. As if the world was loud all around me, and yet I remained alone. Not because no one was beside me, but because no one truly knew the kind of battlefield I was fighting in my head and heart.


    In the distance, I heard theughter of children ying in the water. I nced over and saw that carefree joy-so foreign to me now. I used to be like that, too. Light, unburdened. Laughing without fear, writing without second-guessing, loving without being afraid of losing. But now, everything feltplicated. Layered with doubt and wounds.


    I knew Liam was watching. Maybe he was trying to read my gestures, guessing at thoughts I kept tightly locked away. But I didn’t want to exin. Not because I didn’t trust him-but because I didn’t know where to start. Sometimes pain is too vast to summarize in words, and too intimate to share, even with the best intentions.


    11:21 AM


    68


    Tue 2 Sep


    ?


    50% ■


    My steps led us away from the crowd. I wanted silence. I let the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks be the only thing I heard. Because in the roar of the sea and the stillness of the sky, at least I didn’t have to pretend to be okay. At least here, I could


    breathe-even if the grief hadn’t passed.


    “Liam,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “We should stop here.”


    He looked confused. “Why?”


    I took a deep breath. “You’re asking too many questions. It makes me ufortable.”


    Liam looked down. His shoulders slumped a little, and his gaze softened with regret. “I’m sorry. I… I just wanted to talk. But I


    forgot that maybe this is too much for you.”


    I nodded slightly. “I think… we should go our separate ways. I want to be alone.”


    I turned around, ready to leave this ce-and end a conversation that kept pulling me back to somewhere I had fought so hard t walk away from. But before I could take another step, a voice shouted from the distance.


    “Watch out!”


    I turned reflexively. The voice came from the left, near the rocks jutting out just beyond the shoreline. Amid the crowd that had started to panic, I saw a small child fall into the shallow water, their body swept away by a current stronger than anyone expecte It only took a split second to understand what was happening. The child had slipped while trying to climb the rocks-maybe to y, maybe just to get closer to the waves-and now they were iling, their legs kicking frantically in the water.


    My body moved before my mind could protest. I dropped my bag onto the sand and ran without a word. My bare feet hit the sand that grew firmer as I neared the water. I could hear someone calling the child’s name-probably the mother-her voice breaking panicked, carried by the wind. But I didn’t look back.


    The cold sea hit me like a p. I pushed forward, half-swimming, half-running through the water now up to my waist. The child had drifted farther, though not yet dangerously far. But the fear in their eyes-the confusion on their tiny face-made my heart


    race faster than ever.


    I reached out and grabbed the small body. They clung to me instantly, shivering. “It’s okay… You’re safe now,” I whispered, mo to myself than to them. My breath was ragged, but I forced my body to remain steady as I carried the child back to shore, fightin


    against waves that didn’t want to let us go.


    Once we reached the sand, a woman-clearly the child’s mother-rushed toward us, her eyes wet and face etched with fear now giving way to relief. She pulled the child from my arms, cradling them gently, then looked at me with grateful eyes. I gave a sma nod, unable to speak. My legs trembled violently-not just from the cold water, but from the adrenaline that hadn’t fully worn