𝙄𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝙈𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 - 𝘊𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯 𝘍𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘥

𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙁𝙞𝙫𝙚. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘛𝘰 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘈 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. My mind was racing, the weight of my father's death pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. It had been days since I returned from emptying his house, but the emptiness hadn't left mw. If anything, it had grown, filling every quiet moment, every pause, every time I tried to close my eyes.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and found Caitlin's number. My thumb hovered over the call button for a moment. It felt wrong to call, but the loneliness gnawed at me, my thumb pressed down before I could second-guess myself, and the phone rang. Once. Twice. I almost hung up, but on the third ring, Caitlin answered.

"Elena?" Caitlin's voice is soft, groggy from sleep but instantly attentive. "Is everything okay?"

I swallow, suddenly unsure of what to say. My throat feels tight, and I struggle to find words. "I-uh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Caitlin's voice softens further, concerned. "It's fine. I wasn't really sleeping anyway. What's going on?"

There's a pause, heavy with unsaid things. I stare at the wall in my darkened room, heart pounding. I hadd no idea how to explain the mess in my head, the weight I'd been carrying since my father's death, the confusion that clung to me like fog.

"I can't stop thinking about him," I finally whisper. "My dad. And everything else. I just-" My voice cracks, and I bite down hard on my lip. "I don't know what to do, Caitlin. I don't know how to move forward."

On the other end, Caitlin stays quiet for a moment, just listening. There is no rush, no pressure. It's the first time in weeks I feel like someone is truly there for me, without judgment or expectation.

"You don't have to have all the answers right now," Caitlin says gently. "You don't have to figure it all out at once."

"I feel stuck," I admit, my voice shaking. "Like I'm supposed to be okay, but I'm not. My dad's gone. Football feels... off. And us... I don't know what we're doing anymore."

Caitlin lets out a slow breath. "I know it's hard, Els. But you're not alone in this. You don't have to carry it all by yourself."

"I've never been good at letting people in," I murmer. "You know that."

"I do," Caitlin says softly. "But I'm here, whenever you're ready. I've always been here."

The silence hangs between us, thick and full of unsaid words. I wipe a tear from my cheek, feeling the warmth of Caitlin's voice through the phone, the calm reassurance that I'm as lost as I feel.

"I miss you," I say before I can stop myself. My voice is barely above a whisper, but it feels like the heaviest admission I'd made in months.

Caitlin's breath caught, and she pauses before answering, her voice steady but full of emotion. "I miss you too."

For a moment, neither of us speak. The weight of the past months lingered between us, but there's a quiet understanding that maybe, just maybe, things don't have to stay broken forever.

We don't say much more after that. Caitlin stays on the phone, just listening as my breathing slows, as the weight of the night finally starts to ease. We don't need to talk about the details- our connection is still there, even in the quiet moments.

As my eyes grew heavy, I mumble a soft "goodnight," and Caitlin responds with the same gentle warmth.

"Goodnight, Els. Call me if you need me, okay?"

I nod, even though Caitlin can't see me. I hang up, a strange feeling of peace settling over me.

I pull the blanket tighter around myself, letting the sound of Caitlin's voice echo in my mind as I finally drifted off to sleep.