My phone buzzed once, twice. Lena's name lighting up the screen. I didn't touch it. Couldn't.
Instead, my thoughts went where they always went now: to her with Max. I pictured him leaning close, telling her to breathe, to calm down. Her wiping at her eyes, nodding. His hand steady on her shoulder.
But isn't this what I wanted?
I pushed her away to protect her. Wanted her to forget me, move on, live a life untouched by me. I wanted to vanish from her world so she could be happy, safe.
Then why does it ache like this?
I told Josh to leave with Mom. I stayed behind because it was the right thing to do. For him, for Dad, for all of us.
So why don't I feel proud of my sacrifice?
Why does it feel more like punishment than purpose?
Maybe because I know the truth.
Even if I did it all for them, it only ended up hurting them.
And they might never forgive me for that.
"First Lena. Then Josh."
The words slipped out like a confession.
I turned onto my side, gripping the mattress until my knuckles whitened.
"I'm the common denominator," I whispered into the dark. "Jason was right. I'm the curse."
I wished there was someone, or something to argue back. To tell me it's not true. Instead, there was only stillness, swallowing me whole.
I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the silence screamed louder.
Padding into the hallway, I caught the faintest sound from the kitchen. Like glass cracking, soft and brittle.
Grandma.
She was sitting at the table in the half-light, hands folded, shoulders bent. Not praying, not humming like she always did. Just… crying. Quietly. Like she didn't want anyone to know.
Her voice trembled into the air. "Everything's falling apart. First Mark… now Josh… and Ash. My poor boys. What did we do to deserve this?"
I froze in the doorway, my chest caving in. I wanted to go to her, to put a hand on her shoulder, tell her she wasn't alone. But my legs felt nailed to the floor.
I leaned back into the shadows before she could see me. My throat ached. My fists clenched uselessly at my sides.
I was supposed to protect her. To protect Dad. To protect Lena. To protect Josh.
Instead, I was watching them all crumble.
And I… I was the weakest link holding them.
⟡ ✧ ⟡
The house was dead quiet. Dad hadn't come out of his study in hours. Grandma's door was shut. I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, the dark pressing in on me from every side.
My phone lit up on the nightstand, again. Lena.
Her name glowed in the dark like it wanted to burn straight through me.
Please talk to me.
Are you okay?
Ash?
I turned the screen facedown. I couldn't. Not when every word out of my mouth would be another lie.
I dragged the blanket over my face, trying to bury myself in silence. That's when I heard it. Three soft taps.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My heart stopped.
I sat up, pulse racing, and pulled the curtain back.
And there she was.
Lena, standing in the porch light, hair falling loose around her face, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She looked like something fragile, like one breath of wind might shatter her.
Her voice carried through the glass, breaking and small.
"Ash… please. Let me in."
The world tilted under me.
The knock comes again. Soft, hesitant, but persistent.
For a second, I think I'm imagining it. Then I see her. Lena, through the thin curtain, her shadow against the glass.
My chest tightens. I should pretend I'm asleep.
I should ignore her, let her think I've moved on.
But my hand moves before my brain does.
The window creaks open, and the cold night air slips in, brushing against my face like a ghost.
Lena's standing there in her hoodie, damp hair stuck to her cheeks, her eyes tired but burning with something I can't look at for long.
I should've pretended I was asleep. But she would've kept knocking anyway. That's who she is. Relentless, even when it hurts.
"Hey," she whispers, voice trembling just enough to sound human.
"Hey," I say back. It's stupid, meaningless, but it's all I can manage.
She climbs in quietly, landing with a soft thud on the carpet. She smells faintly of rain and vanilla. Familiar, comforting, and dangerous all at once.
We sit in silence for what feels like forever. The ticking clock in the next room fills the space between us. She's staring at the floor. I'm staring at the way her hands are shaking.
Finally, she says it.
"I went to see your grandma."
My breath catches.
"She told me about the divorce… and Josh."
Her voice wavers like she's afraid of breaking me by saying his name. I don't look at her. I just nod, once.
"You should've told me, Ash."
I swallow hard. My throat feels like sandpaper. "I didn't want to…"
She cuts in, sharper now. "...make me worry? Really? That's your excuse?"
Her voice cracks on the last word, and I hate myself for it.
"You don't understand," I mutter, turning away. "You've got your own problems, Lena. You shouldn't have to deal with mine."
She exhales, a bitter laugh slipping out. "Bullshit."
The word hits like a slap; not because of how she says it, but because it's true.
She stands up, pacing now, her hands trembling.
"You don't get to decide what hurts me. You don't get to disappear and pretend it's for my sake."
Her voice breaks on "sake." Tears glimmer in her eyes, catching the porch light from the window.
I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms, trying to hold it all in: the guilt, the fear, the prophecy whispering in the back of my head.
If I tell her the truth, she'll never forgive me.
If I don't, I'll destroy her anyway.
So I just stand there, silent, watching the girl I love cry because of me.