Shadows of Tomorrow

Chapter Three: Drifting

The wind tugged at the edges of Maria’s jacket as she stepped outside, the crisp air biting against her skin. Autumn had arrived in full force, painting the trees with splashes of gold and crimson, but Maria felt disconnected from it all. The world was moving on without her—leaves fell, students walked briskly across campus, laughing and chatting, and the sky overhead was a deep, cloudless blue—but Maria felt like she was frozen in place, unable to catch up.

Eric was waiting for her near the entrance to the park, leaning against the wrought iron fence that lined the perimeter. His back was to her, but Maria could still recognize him instantly—the way his broad shoulders were slightly hunched, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark coat. Even from a distance, she could sense his tension.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and approached him, her steps hesitant. Part of her had wanted to cancel, to avoid this conversation altogether, but she knew she couldn’t keep running forever. The message she had sent earlier that morning—Let’s meet in the park at 4?—felt like a small surrender. She couldn’t keep pushing him away, no matter how much easier it seemed.

Eric turned as she neared, his face lighting up momentarily before a shadow of concern crossed his expression. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth she didn’t feel like she deserved.

“Hey,” she replied, stopping a few feet away from him. The distance between them felt like more than just physical space—it was the emotional distance she had built up over the past few months, the walls she had erected to protect herself from her own fears. Now, standing here with him, she wasn’t sure how to start breaking them down.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the park filled the silence—birds chirping in the trees, the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant laughter of children playing. Eric shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flicking to the ground before returning to her.

“I’m glad you agreed to meet,” he said finally, his voice cautious. “I’ve been worried about you, Maria. We all have.”

“I know,” Maria replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She wrapped her arms around herself, more for comfort than warmth. “I’m sorry, Eric. I just... I don’t know how to explain what’s going on.”

Eric took a step closer, his brows furrowing in concern. “You don’t have to explain everything. I just want to know what’s going on with you. You’ve been so distant, and I don’t know how to help.”

Maria looked away, her eyes tracing the patterns in the grass at her feet. She wanted to tell him everything—to open up about the fears that gnawed at her day and night, the sense of dread that left her paralyzed in her own life—but the words wouldn’t come. How could she explain that she felt like she was drowning in the very idea of the future? That every moment felt like a countdown to inevitable failure, to death, to the end of everything?

“I’m scared,” she said finally, her voice cracking. “Of everything. Of the future, of failing, of losing you.”

Eric’s face softened, and he took another step forward, closing the distance between them. He reached out, gently placing a hand on her arm, his touch warm and reassuring. “Maria, you don’t have to be scared of losing me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Maria shook her head, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “You say that now, but I’m a mess, Eric. I’m pushing everyone away. You, my friends, even my mom. I don’t know how to stop, and I’m scared that one day, you’re all going to realize it’s easier to just... leave.”

Eric’s grip on her arm tightened slightly, his gaze never wavering. “I’m not leaving. I know you’re struggling, and I’m not saying it’s easy, but I’m not giving up on you.”

For a moment, Maria allowed herself to believe him, to let his words sink in. But the fear was still there, lingering just beneath the surface, whispering that this peace was temporary, that the storm was still coming. She could feel it, like a weight pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” Maria admitted, her voice barely audible. “I feel like I’m falling apart, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Eric let out a slow breath, his thumb rubbing small circles on her arm. “You don’t have to fix it all right now. But you can’t do it alone. Let me help you. Let your friends help you. We’re here for you, Maria.”

Maria looked up at him, her vision blurry with unshed tears. His eyes were full of quiet determination, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope—small and fragile, but there. Maybe she didn’t have to face this alone. Maybe there was a way out of the darkness, but it would take time, and it would take letting people in, something she had been resisting for so long.

She wiped at her eyes, forcing a small smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Eric smiled back, his hand sliding down to take hers. “You don’t have to know right now. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Maria nodded, feeling the tight knot in her chest loosen ever so slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small step forward, a small crack in the walls she had built. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

They walked side by side through the park, the conversation light and easy, a stark contrast to the heavy emotions they had just shared. Eric told her about his week, about classes and work, and Maria found herself laughing at his jokes, the sound unfamiliar but welcome. For a brief moment, the weight of the future lifted, and Maria allowed herself to be present, to enjoy the simple act of being with someone who cared about her.

As they reached the edge of the park, Eric turned to her, his expression serious again. “Maria, I know you’re scared of the future, but you don’t have to face it all at once. Take it one day at a time. We’ll get through it together.”

Maria looked at him, her heart swelling with gratitude. She didn’t know what the future held, and the fear was still there, lurking in the corners of her mind. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t as alone as she had thought.