guilty as sin? (tayvis)

what if i roll the stone away?

Taylor could feel the weight of Travis's hesitation pressing against her chest. Every unspoken word between them was like a knot, tightening more and more, pulling at her heart. It would be so easy to say something—anything—to break the silence, but she didn't. Instead, she stood there, trapped between her own thoughts, trapped between the life she had with Joe and the confusing feelings for Travis that had only grown stronger since that voicemail.

"Well, I'm going to head out," Travis finally said, running a hand through his hair. He didn't seem to want to leave, but the tension between them had become too much.

Taylor swallowed hard, forcing a smile. "Thanks for coming with me tonight. It was fun."

"Yeah, it was," Travis replied, his voice softer now. "I'll see you tomorrow, maybe? I mean, if you're not busy."

"Yeah, sure," she replied, her heart heavy. "Tomorrow."

They hugged briefly, and it was almost like neither of them wanted to let go. Taylor could feel the warmth of his body, the way his arms wrapped around her like he was holding on to something—maybe hope, maybe memories. When they finally pulled apart, Travis gave her one last look before heading for the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Taylor let out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her heart raced, and she felt like she was standing on the edge of something huge, but she didn't know if she was ready to jump.

Sitting down on the couch, she buried her face in her hands. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why did her heart feel like it was being pulled in two different directions—toward Joe, the man she'd loved for five years, and toward Travis, her best friend who was starting to feel like something more?

She grabbed her phone, her fingers hovering over Joe's name. She wanted to call him, to hear his voice and remind herself of what they had, but deep down, she knew it wouldn't change anything. He was distant, preoccupied with his own life, his own dreams, and his friend. And Taylor... she was starting to wonder if their dreams still aligned.

With a shaky breath, she sent Joe another message.

You
"Are we okay, Joe?"

She stared at the screen, waiting, hoping for a response. But after a few minutes of silence, she tossed the phone aside and stood up, pacing the living room. The feelings bubbling up inside her were too much to keep down. She needed clarity. She needed something to make sense.

But nothing was clear anymore. Not Joe. Not Travis. Not even herself.

As she stood there, staring out the window at the glittering New York skyline, one thought crossed her mind:

Maybe tomorrow will bring answers.

(...)

The next morning, Taylor woke up to her phone buzzing on the nightstand. Squinting at the sunlight streaming through the blinds, she reached over, heart skipping a beat when she saw Joe's name.

Joe
"Hey. Of course we're okay. Why wouldn't we be?"

Taylor stared at the screen, her chest tightening. His response felt cold—dismissive even. It didn't acknowledge what had been gnawing at her for months now. She wanted more than a simple reassurance. She wanted him to see her, to *really* see what was happening between them.

You
"We haven't been talking much, and you've seemed distant."

This time, she didn't wait for an immediate reply. She tossed the phone onto the bed and got up, walking to the bathroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror, her eyes tired and her thoughts heavy. How did everything get so complicated? She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on her face, trying to shake the frustration that was creeping up on her.