(Lizzy's POV)
The rain began softly that evening, as if the clouds had been listening to her heart all day and finally decided to weep with her. Lizzy stood by her dorm window, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass. The world outside blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver, and for once, she didn't feel the urge to hide from the storm.
She felt… lighter. Not entirely free, but less chained to the silence she'd been living in.
Ben's words kept replaying in her head "You're not broken. You're just healing."
No one had ever said it like that before. No one had made her pain sound like something that could grow into strength.
When Funmi knocked and stepped inside, the air shifted. "You missed dinner again," she said, placing a small bowl of jollof rice on the desk.
"Thanks," Lizzy murmured, her voice soft. "Wasn't hungry."
Funmi sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You've been quiet lately. I mean, quieter than usual. Is everything okay?"
Lizzy hesitated, her eyes fixed on the rain. "I think… I'm learning how to be okay."
Funmi blinked, surprised by the honesty in her tone. "That sounds deep. You wanna talk about it?"
A small smile tugged at Lizzy's lips. "Not tonight. But someday, maybe."
Funmi nodded, respecting her space. "Just know I'm here, yeah?"
"I know," Lizzy said softly. And she meant it.
Later that night, after Funmi left, Lizzy pulled her journal closer. For weeks she had avoided writing, afraid of what might pour out. But now her pen moved, slowly at first, then freely words spilling like rain.
Some days I forget I'm still learning how to breathe.
Some days I remember that healing doesn't mean forgetting.
And maybe that's what makes it beautiful.
The next day, she met Ben under the oak tree again. The ground was damp, the air cool, and the smell of rain still lingered.
"You came," he said with a small grin.
"Didn't want you thinking I'd disappeared."
He chuckled. "I wouldn't let that happen."
They talked about little things classes, books, the upcoming midterms. But beneath the surface, there was something quieter, deeper the awareness that they'd crossed an invisible line.
For the first time, Lizzy didn't flinch when he looked at her too long. She didn't shrink away when their shoulders brushed. It felt… safe.
Ben watched her carefully, noticing how her laughter came a little easier, how her eyes didn't hide as much anymore.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
Lizzy looked up, curious. "What is it?"
"What does healing sound like to you?"
She thought about it for a long moment. Then, softly, "It sounds like silence that doesn't scare me anymore."
He smiled, understanding.
And for the first time, Lizzy realized healing wasn't about erasing the past. It was about learning to sit in its quiet echoes without falling apart.
As the afternoon sun broke through the clouds, a small warmth spread through her chest fragile, but real. The beginning of something new.