Page 132 of The Bittersweet Bond

"Hi," Evin managed, her voice hoarse, as if she'd spent the entire night crying.

"Your mom told me you were here."

Milka lowered herself onto the rock beside her, leaving a small space between them. She didn’t say anything, letting the silence settle between them until Evin found the courage to close her eyes and take a deep breath.

"Before you ask—no, I’m not drowning in self-pity. I just needed some air." Her voice was steady, almost defiant.

Milka raised an eyebrow and sat back. "Getting air at eight in the morning? That sounds like you."

Evin shrugged, accepting the tea Milka handed her and taking a sip. The warmth spread through her chest, but she refused to show it.

"I'm fine, Milka," she said finally, with a smile that almost looked real. "I don’t need an intervention. No therapy talk. Really."

Milka sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "You know I don’t believe you, right?"

"Of course I do," Evin replied, a faint trace of humor in her voice. She liked Milka's bluntness. It made it easier not to lie—at least, not completely.

Milka studied her, her gaze steady but not pressing. "Evin, I know you. You're the last person to admit when you need help. But… I’m here anyway. Whether you need me or not."

Evin turned the cup in her hands, watching the delicate swirl of steam rise into the air.

"I know, Milka. I know."

The conversation faded, and for a moment, they simply sat there, their eyes on the sea. It wasn’t healing, it wasn’t a breakthrough, but it was something.

A fleeting moment where, for once, Evin didn’t feel entirely alone.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but eventually, Milka broke it. “Midterms are almost over. Looking forward to the new semester?”

Evin snorted softly, her lips curling into a lopsided smile. “Mhh… Not exactly thrilled.”

Milka chuckled. “Do you know what your GPA is yet? Or is that still a big mystery?”

Evin turned the cup in her hands. The tea inside had long gone cold. “No clue. But I think I’ve managed to pull myself out of the danger zone. Mostly thanks to Ben.”

Milka raised an eyebrow. “Right, you’re still studying with him. What does he get out of it?”

Evin shrugged, a hint of warmth creeping into her cheeks. “Nothing. What’s he supposed to get?” The wind blew strands of hair into her face, and she brushed them aside. “He just helps me with math. And bio. And basically everything that doesn’t come naturally to me.”

“Hm.” Milka drew out the sound before adding, “You do know he still has a crush on you, right?”

Evin let out a loud, genuine laugh. “No, he doesn’t! Ben’s just nice. And honestly, it feels good to have someone around who doesn’t constantly want something from me.”

“Okay.” Milka stretched her legs out, wiggling her toes in the sand. “But if he shows up with a Valentine’s gift, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Evin waved her off. “Not Ben. And besides—I’ve got enough on my plate.” She lowered the cup and stared into the distance, where the sea met the sky.

“How’s everything at home?” Milka’s voice was soft, but it was clear she wasn’t just asking out of casual curiosity.

Evin shrugged, the wind sweeping a loose strand of hair across her face. “Same as always—constantly asking if I’m eating enough, if I’m sleeping enough, if I have everything under control.”

Milka nodded slowly. “So, nothing new.”

“Not really.” Evin watched the waves roll in, one after the other. “Sometimes, I think they see me as glass. Like I’ll shatter if they look too closely.”

“You won’t,” Milka said firmly, her voice steady.

“I know.” Evin smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But sometimes, it still feels like I might.”

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