Page 61 of Seven Lost Summers
Theo shifts, one hand still clinging to Nate, the other fisting the back of my jacket.
The three of us fold into each other, wrapped tight in a silence that only exists when something permanent has been ripped away.
We don’t speak.
We don’t move.
Just the three of us, holding on in a silence so heavy it feels like the world itself is holding its breath.
And I know, with every part of me, that nothing will ever be the same again.
Chapter 11
Nate
It’sbeenfivedayssince Bianca died.
Five days of pretending the world hasn’t ended.
Five days of dragging my body out of bed and walking through a life that doesn’t feel like mine anymore.
The sun still rises. People still talk, and none of it fucking matters.
I keep thinking I’ll wake up. That one morning I’ll open my eyes and the air won’t seem this heavy. That I won’t ache like I’m drowning in a room full of oxygen.
But every day bleeds into the next, and she’s still gone. Still not texting me. Still not walking through the door with her iced latte and that smile that made everything seem less broken.
I keep catching myself about to say her name. About to send her a meme. About to tell her something Theo did that would’ve made her laugh until she snorted.
And then I remember… she’s not here to laugh anymore.
Everything I do seems pointless. I eat, but nothing tastes of anything.
I sleep, but I don’t rest. I breathe, but the breath is shallow, my body doing this out of obligation, not from want.
I sit here, trying to stitch myself back together with threads that keep snapping.
I can’t remember who I was before her. I realize that’s stupid, given the amount of time we had together. Eight months of loving her, and I can’t tell who I’m supposed to be without her.
All I understand is this: Bianca is gone.
And the world keeps turning as if that’s not the most fucked-up thing it’s ever done.
Theo’s barely here.
He disappears now, vanishes into silence and shadows as though that’s the only place he can breathe. Sometimes he’s gone for hours. Other times… it’s days. No messages. Only absence.
I don’t understand where he goes.
Fuck, I can’t tell if he even wants to come back. But the worst part now is I no longer know how to reach him anymore.
I used to be able to pull him out of the dark by saying something stupid. Elbow him. Remind him that he’s still here, that he’s still loved. He’d roll his eyes, call me an asshole, and let the wall crack just enough for me to squeeze through.
But not now.
Now it’s concrete. Cold and solid. He’s locked behind the wall and I don’t have the fucking key.
I want to reach out and grab him and shake the pain out of him. Tell him we’re in this together. That I feel the same way too. That Bianca’s name still echoes in my chest like a bruise that won’t stop blooming.
