Back To You

Breaking point? (3)

I grabbed a box from Olivia's room and headed toward the front door, where the others were already loading the moving truck. The afternoon sun felt warm on my skin, but a cold knot twisted in my stomach.

I set the box down to pull open the truck's heavy back door—only to realize it was already shut.

Great.

Before I could decide whether to pry it open myself, a familiar voice broke through the quiet.

"Need some help with that?"

I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. That voice. His voice.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to look. But curiosity and old habit betrayed me. Tayler stood there with that small, unreadable smirk, like nothing had happened between us.

"No thanks," I said flatly, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Without waiting for a reply, I opened the truck myself and shoved the box inside.

The next hour dragged as we hauled boxes into the truck. Despite the noise and chatter of everyone helping, I felt suffocated—each movement shadowed by Tayler's presence. Too close. Too present. A reminder I wasn't ready to face.

Finally, the truck was loaded. Olivia and I climbed into her car and followed behind to the new house.

Unpacking was a blur, filling the empty room with bits of her life. But even as we decorated and laughed, my mind kept drifting back to Tayler—how easily he'd slipped back into my world, unwelcome and yet impossible to ignore.

By the time evening fell, we were exhausted. A knock at the door broke the quiet.

"Come in!" Olivia called.

Kelianne peeked in. "Hey, we're all heading out for dinner. You coming?"

I hesitated. The idea of sitting anywhere near Tayler again made my chest tighten.

"Yeah, just give us two minutes," Olivia replied, glancing at me.

After Kelianne left, I grabbed my bag, and we drove to the restaurant.

As I stepped out, a sharp realization hit me—I'd left my bag in the car.

"Madi, you coming?" Olivia asked from the entrance.

"Yeah, just go ahead. I'll be there in a sec."

I slipped back to the car and grabbed my bag, dreading what awaited inside.

There was only one seat left.

Next to him.

Tayler's eyes caught mine as I approached. I rolled mine and sat stiffly, hoping to disappear into the background.

The conversation flowed around us, but his presence was a quiet storm. I could feel it in my skin, in every breath I took.

"So, do you guys know each other?" Cody asked suddenly.

Tayler hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah... we know each other."

"How?" Markell pressed, sensing the tension.

Tayler sighed, glancing away. "We... were together, a while back."

The table went silent.

Nate's voice cut through the tension. "Okay, but Madi, why do you look like you want to murder him?"

I let out a short laugh, bitter and humorless. "Some things just aren't forgivable."

Tayler avoided my gaze, staring at his plate. Good.

Dinner went on, but time slowed, weighed down by the invisible barrier between us.

Outside, the group buzzed with energy. Kelianne turned to me.

"Sleep over tonight? It'll be fun."

I hesitated, swallowing the knot in my throat. The thought of spending a night with Tayler so close was unbearable.

"I don't know... I don't think it's a good idea."

Azra chimed in, "Come on, you deserve a break."

Aisha smiled. "Face masks, movies. Just chill."

Olivia's grin was reassuring. "It'll be low key, promise."

I opened my mouth to refuse but stopped. Their hopeful faces made me doubt myself.

"Okay," I said quietly. "But no promises. This is gonna be weird."

They cheered, but my heart sank.

Later, as we watched a cheesy rom-com, I kept stealing glances at Tayler. His silence was louder than any word.

By midnight, the laughter and face masks had me feeling almost normal. Almost.

But when "To All The Boys: P.S. I Still Love You" started, that old discomfort crept back in.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, I woke at 3 a.m., thirsty and alone.

Careful not to wake anyone, I slipped toward the kitchen for water.

Then I heard footsteps behind me—slow, deliberate.

Panic gripped me. I grabbed the nearest thing—a small kitchen knife.

"Woah, woah! Let's not stab anyone tonight, yeah?"

Tayler's voice was calm, teasing.

I turned, heart hammering. There he was, hands raised, smirking like he owned the night.

"I thought someone was breaking in," I muttered, voice sharp.

He chuckled. "Yeah, burglars definitely go for Gatorade."

I set the knife down, keeping my back to him, wishing he'd just disappear.

But he stayed.

Waiting.

I finished my water and returned to the couch, curling up tight.

No matter how much I told myself I was over him, Tayler was still here—haunting every corner of my mind.

And that was the worst part.