How to be loved

53 - in Vegas!

How to be loved

53 – in Vegas!

Becky's POV

"I think it's time for you to go," Nam said softly, her voice steady as she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was ten in the morning, but the night still lingered in my heart, heavy with all the things left unsaid. Freen hadn't come out of her room since last night. The air around us was thick with tension, a quiet reminder of how much still hung in the balance.

"But Nam..." I began, my voice trembling, a mixture of fear and uncertainty threading through it. I wanted to argue, to explain why I had to stay, but Nam shook her head. Her look wasn't harsh, but it held a knowing quality, as if she understood something I hadn't fully grasped yet.

"Freen's stubborn, especially when she's hurt," Nam continued, her tone warm but resolute. "Right now, she needs space to figure things out. If you stay, she'll just keep avoiding you. I don't want her to shut down entirely, Becky. Give her time. Let her come to you on her own."

Her words weighed heavily on me, a painful truth I didn't want to admit. My heart was screaming at me to stay, to fight for Freen, to break through the walls she'd put up. But deep down, I knew Nam was right. Freen needed time to process, and staying here, standing outside her door, wasn't going to help.

I sighed, the sound filled with helplessness. "I don't want her to think I'm giving up on her," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Nam's expression softened, and she placed a comforting hand on my arm. "You're not giving up," she said gently. "Giving someone space isn't the same as giving up. Sometimes, it's what they need most. She knows you're here for her. When she's ready, she'll come to you."

I nodded slowly, though every part of me rebelled against the idea of leaving. The thought of walking away, of leaving Freen alone with her thoughts and her pain, felt like a betrayal. But I couldn't force her to talk if she wasn't ready. I knew that.

"Go," Nam urged again, her eyes filled with understanding. "She won't stay in there forever. She knows how much you care."

I hesitated one last time, my gaze fixed on Freen's closed bedroom door. I wished for any sign that she might come out, that she would want to talk, but the silence stretched on, unbroken. The longer I stood there, the more suffocating the quiet became.

Reluctantly, I turned toward the front door. Each step felt like a heavy defeat, as if with every step I was walking away from Freen, from everything we'd built together. My hand hovered over the doorknob, my heart warring with my mind, before I finally pulled it open.

As I stepped outside, the cool morning air hit me like a splash of cold water, a harsh contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. I paused for a moment, glancing back at the house, hoping Freen might appear at the doorway. But the door remained closed, and the silence followed me out.

Nam joined me on the porch, her presence a quiet reassurance. "She'll be okay," she said softly. "You both will."

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to hold onto that hope, but doubt gnawed at me. What if this space between us kept growing? What if, by giving her time, she realized she didn't need me anymore?

Nam must have seen the fear in my eyes. "Freen cares about you more than you know," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Just give her the time she needs. She'll come around."

I forced myself to nod, trying to cling to that reassurance, though the ache in my chest wouldn't subside. With one last glance at the closed door, I turned away, trusting in Nam's words—and in Freen's heart.

The walk to my car felt excruciatingly long, each step weighed down by the uncertainty that filled me. When I finally sat down in the driver's seat, I gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring blankly at the house. It felt as if a part of me was still there, lingering in the silence with Freen.