(Michelle's POV)
Friday night passed in a blur.
Not tears.
Not full breakdowns.
Just… numb exhaustion.
I went home in silence.
I showered in silence.
I crawled into bed in silence.
And every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing—
Lara's face.
Her shaking hands.
Her voice cracking open.
"You stole him!"
"You flirted with him behind my back!"
"You were just waiting for your chance!"
I hugged my pillow and swallowed hard.
I knew she was hurting.
I knew she didn't mean half of what she said.
But the other half?
The part where she hated me?
That… hurt more than I expected.
I didn't sleep well.
Just drifted in and out of thoughts shaped like guilt, confusion, and the quiet warmth of Steven walking me to my car afterward.
And then—
Saturday arrived.
I didn't have class.
I didn't have plans.
Steven texted late last night:
Steven:I'll give you space today. Rest. We can talk tomorrow.
He didn't say "are you okay?"
He didn't say "don't worry."
He just… understood.
