From Darkness to Light: She Taught Me to Love Myself.

6: Three Weeks Of Silence

For three weeks, I didn't hear a word from Niki.

No forced apologies. No awkward encounters. No grand gestures.

It was as if she'd vanished from my life entirely, and, for a while, I told myself I was fine with that. After all, wasn't this what I wanted? Niki leaving me alone, giving me space? But as the days went by, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. This wasn't like her—at least, not the Niki I knew.

Liv noticed too. "She's been pretty quiet, huh?" she asked one afternoon as we walked to class. "Not that I'm complaining, but... it's weird."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off. "Maybe she finally got the message."

But in the back of my mind, I couldn't stop wondering. Where was she? Why had she stopped trying?

Three weeks had passed since that morning at my locker, and in that time, Niki had barely looked in my direction. She wasn't eating lunch with her old friends anymore, but she wasn't coming near me, either. It was like she'd retreated into her own world, and no one—not her friends, not me—had any idea what was going on.

At first, I told myself it didn't matter. I didn't owe her anything. But the longer she stayed silent, the more unsettled I became. The truth was, I'd grown used to her attempts to apologize, even if they were misguided. The absence of her presence felt... strange.

Then, on the last Friday of the third week, everything changed.

It was the end of the day, and I was heading out of school with Liv when I saw Niki waiting by the entrance, her posture stiff and nervous. Liv raised an eyebrow, shooting me a glance.

"Looks like she's back," she muttered under her breath.

I swallowed hard, feeling a mix of emotions I couldn't quite name. Part of me wanted to keep walking, to avoid whatever this was going to be. But another part—the part that had spent the last few weeks wondering why she'd disappeared—needed to know what she had to say.

"Niki," I said cautiously as we approached.

She looked up, her eyes wide and nervous. "Ari, can we... can we talk? Alone?"

I hesitated, glancing at Liv. She gave me a small nod, her way of saying she had my back no matter what.

"Fine," I said after a moment, my voice stiff. "Let's talk."

Liv gave me a quick squeeze on the shoulder before heading off, leaving Niki and me standing there by the entrance. The air felt heavy, filled with everything that hadn't been said in the past few weeks.

Niki shifted awkwardly, wringing her hands together. "I—I know I've been quiet. You probably think I gave up, but... I haven't."

I crossed my arms, unsure where this was going. "So why the silence?"

She took a deep breath, looking more nervous than I'd ever seen her. "I stopped because... I realized I was doing everything wrong. I thought that if I could just keep apologizing—if I made it big enough, grand enough—you'd forgive me. But I finally realized that I can't force that, and I can't fix this with gifts or by being loud about it."

I blinked, surprised by her words. This was different. Niki wasn't stumbling over herself like before. She wasn't trying to push some quick solution. She seemed... calmer, more thoughtful.

"For the past three weeks," she continued, her voice trembling slightly, "I've been trying to figure out how to apologize in a way that would actually matter. Not just to make myself feel better, but to show you that I understand how deeply I hurt you."