Nayla's POV
The final day of school came and went, and Nayla didn't say goodbye.
She couldn't.
Her hands trembled as she packed her books that morning. She glanced at the mirror, hoping the person staring back would feel strong enough to face Zen. But all she saw was a coward hiding behind her perfect grades and good-girl mask.
Zen was everywhere in her mind that day—in the hallway corners they used to pass each other with secret glances, in the silent library table that still held the warmth of Zen's hand, in the laughter from other classmates that reminded her of a world she could never be part of without breaking the rules she'd spent her whole life obeying.
She kept her eyes down as the school emptied. She heard people hugging, celebrating. She heard voices calling names, but not hers.
She wanted to turn. To find Zen. To say anything. Even if it was just a stupid, selfish "I'm sorry."
But she didn't.
Because if she looked into Zen's eyes again, she might not have been able to let go. And her world—her carefully structured, straight-path world—was not built to hold someone like Zen. A girl with fire in her chest and truth in her voice. A girl who made Nayla feel things she wasn't ready to name, not in this world, not in front of everyone.
So she left.
Quietly.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
Just vanished—like the coward she feared she was.
And every night after, she hated herself a little more.
Not for loving Zen. But for pretending she didn't.
For making Zen believe she didn't care.
For disappearing, when all she wanted was to run back and hold her one last time.
ČTEŠ
The Script I Never Wrote
RomanceYou walked into a heart already shattered, thinking you could be the light that heals. But instead, you became the storm that tore open old wounds, breaking what was barely holding together. You promised salvation but left only devastation, pulling...
