Fractured

22. Not Really Alone

For the rest of the morning, I lay in bed, letting the negative thoughts seep in, one after another, corrupting me from the inside out.

I'm the only one to blame. She would've stayed if you weren't such a miserable, depressed loser.

The thought echoed through my mind like a curse, looping endlessly, refusing to let go. Each time it repeated, it burrowed deeper, twisting my self-pity into something darker, sharper.

The walls around me seemed to close in, the once-familiar room now feeling like a suffocating box. Light filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the floor, but even that felt harsh and unwelcoming, like it was judging me too.

Faena had moved on, and here I was—stuck. It was my fault for being childish, for clinging to a version of myself I should've outgrown.

My fault for always dodging responsibility, for letting my life slip between my fingers. Every misstep, every flaw, every careless moment—it all played on repeat in my mind, painting me as the villain in this story of loss.

Why would anyone want to be friends with someone so... pathetic?

The silence in the room was heavy, filled with all the things I should've said, all the changes I should've made. But now, it was too late.

I curled up into a ball, clutching my pillow like it was a lifeline—a makeshift medkit for feeling utterly alone. I wanted this healing process to be smooth, no sudden setbacks, no painful reminders.

But here I was, lying in the ruins of what used to be a friendship, all because I couldn't just... be normal.

A soft knock sounded at my bedroom door. I didn't even turn to look; I was too wrapped up in my own self-pity, the weight of it pressing down on me like an anchor. The door creaked open, and I felt the mattress dip as someone sat beside me.

A warm hand settled on my shoulder, fingers gently tracing small circles—a comforting gesture, urging me to let go, just a little.

Lucas's familiar voice broke through the silence, steady and kind. "What happened, darling? Talk to me."

His words hung in the air, a gentle invitation to spill the weight I'd been carrying alone. But part of me didn't want to. I didn't want anyone else to see the mess inside my head, least of all him.

I muttered, "Healing sucks."

Lucas let out a light laugh—not mocking, but gentle and understanding. "It's difficult, sure. But that's what healing is, Jess. You have to accept the bad to embrace the good."

I shifted, rolling onto my back to look up at him, his face calm and encouraging. "I don't want to accept losing Faena," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes softened as he held my gaze. "I know you don't," he said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "But sometimes, letting go isn't about forgetting. It's about making room for something new; new people, new experiences, maybe even a new you."

I swallowed, my throat tight with the weight of his words. "But she's been there through every phase of my life. How am I supposed to be new without my best friend in my life?"

Lucas kicked off his shoes, settling further onto the bed beside me. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close until I was nestled against his chest. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles along my back as he spoke, his voice soft but steady.

"I get it, Jess. Losing someone who's been a part of your life for so long—it's like losing a piece of yourself," he murmured. "But sometimes, people drift, even the ones we thought would be there forever. That doesn't mean what you two had wasn't real or that it didn't matter. It just means... maybe you're meant to grow in different directions."