Back To You;

CHAPTER 15

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. After days of pretending that everything was fine, that I wasn’t feeling this constant knot in my stomach, I broke down.

It was just after lunch when I found myself slumped in a corner of the cafeteria, head buried in my arms, my books scattered across the table like I hadn’t even bothered to open them. Mae had been trying to get my attention all morning, but I had been too distracted, too... lost in my own head. And John, as usual, was talking a mile a minute about something ridiculous, trying to lighten the mood, but I just couldn’t bring myself to focus.

Finally, Mae noticed the look on my face. “Marie,” she said softly, sitting down across from me, “What’s wrong?”

I stared at her for a moment, blinking away the sudden swell of emotions that had been building up for weeks. I could already feel the tears threatening to spill, but I held them back. I wasn’t about to break down in front of Mae and John—not yet.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” I muttered, pushing my books aside. “I feel like Lauren and I are just... slipping away from each other. I don’t know what happened, but it’s like we’re not even the same anymore. He doesn’t have time for me, and when we do talk, it’s like he’s a stranger. I hate it, Mae. I hate that I miss him, and I hate that it feels like we’re just... fading.”

Mae’s expression softened, her usually sharp features turned into a quiet understanding. “Have you talked to him about it?”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know how to. It’s like we’re both so busy with everything else, but... it just feels wrong. I don’t want to keep fighting for something that’s already gone, you know?”

John, who had been unusually quiet up until then, leaned in, adjusting his glasses. “Honestly, it sounds like you’re letting it drift without doing anything about it. You can’t just let it fade away, Marie. If it matters to you, you need to fix it. Talk to him.”

The words stung, but I knew he was right. I had been letting everything slip without confronting it head-on.

“I don’t even know where to start,” I admitted, exhaling a shaky breath.

“Well, if you want to keep it, go get it. Don’t just sit around and hope he’ll notice,” John said firmly, as though he were speaking from experience.

I nodded, feeling a small flicker of resolve in my chest. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe we could fix this, but I had to be the one to make the first move. It wasn’t going to fix itself.

A few days later, after much deliberation and several moments of hesitation, I made a decision. I was going to end whatever this was between me and Lauren.

I had convinced myself that it was for the best. We were drifting, and the longer I waited, the more it hurt. It wasn’t fair to either of us to keep pretending that everything was fine. The distance had already been established, and maybe it was time to stop fighting for something that seemed impossible to revive.

So, I wrote him a text. It was short, to the point. Nothing dramatic, no long monologues. Just... clarity.

“Hey Lauren, I think we need to talk. I don’t know what’s happening between us, but I don’t want to keep pretending everything is fine if it’s not. Maybe we need some time apart to figure things out.”

I hit send before I could think about it too much.

The message sat there, glaring at me from my screen. I felt a strange relief, but it was accompanied by the tightness in my chest. This was it. I was putting an end to whatever was left of us.

To my surprise, Lauren didn’t ignore the message. He replied almost immediately.

“Wait, Marie. Don’t do this. I don’t want to lose you. I know things have been different lately, and I know I’ve been distant. But I don’t want this to end. I don’t want us to drift apart. Please, give me a chance to make this right.”

I stared at the message, my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting him to fight for us.

I sat there for what felt like forever, my fingers hovering over the screen. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to open myself up again, to risk getting hurt, but when I thought about it, I realized something: I still cared. I still wanted this. I wasn’t ready to give up on him, on us.

I typed back slowly, trying to find the right words.

“Okay, let’s talk. But we need to figure out where we go from here.”

The text was simple, but it was enough.

The next few days were a bit of a whirlwind. Lauren and I found some time to sit down and talk about everything—the distance, the busy schedules, the feeling that we were slowly becoming strangers to each other. But in the end, we agreed that we didn’t want to let go. Not yet. We were both committed to making things work, to finding time for each other again, even if it meant adjusting our priorities.

For the first time in weeks, I felt a spark of hope. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe we could fix this. And just like that, we were good again. We laughed, we made plans, and we started carving out time for each other.

The drifting had stopped. We were back on course.

And I could finally breathe again.

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