Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 31

I used to think love was enough, that choosing someone with your whole heart meant something. But now I’m not sure. Because even the strongest heart can feel like a burden when the world is waiting for you to fail.

So I folded inward. Avoided him. Avoided everyone. Let silence grow like ivy in all the places I used to bloom. I told myself this was safer. That hiding gave me peace.
But in truth, it only gave me more space to think.

About everything.
About everyone.
About James.
And about me.

And how maybe, I wasn’t breaking because of him. Because I was already cracked long before he held me. And now that he’s gone, I can hear the sound of my own pain again.

Unfiltered. Undistracted. Terrifying.

“B, please talk to me…”

His voice cracked. Pleading. Like it was the only thread holding him together.

I didn’t want to turn, but I did. James stood there, eyes swollen, red-rimmed, like he hadn’t slept, or maybe hadn’t stopped crying since the last time I looked him in the eyes and believed we’d be okay.

Then, his hand reached out. He grabbed my wrist.

And just like that, pain pulsed through me like a warning bell, sharp and immediate.
Under my gray sweater. Under the fresh gauze I wrapped that morning.

Because last night, I said hello again to the part of me I pretend doesn't exist. The one that hides beneath school medals, fixed smiles, and perfectly written essays. The one with edges, sharp and real, edges I can control, unlike this world that keeps shoving decisions in my face. Telling me who I should love and who I shouldn’t.

But that blade...it never lies. It doesn't whisper rumors behind my back. It doesn’t judge or guilt me. It just… listens.

“J-James…” I stammered. My voice barely a breath. “I... I can’t.”

His expression shifted. I saw it. That flicker in his eyes like something inside him broke. “You said you’d always choose me,” he said. Soft. Fractured. Not angry. Just… broken.

I looked at him... and God, I hated myself.

Because he wasn’t the villain they painted him to be. He was just a boy who asked me to stay. And I was the girl who promised she would.

I didn’t answer.I let the tears fall silently like tiny betrayals on my cheeks. Then I pushed him. Not hard, but just enough.
Enough to say “please don’t follow.”

And I ran.

His voice behind me, barely a whisper now. "Please..."

But I didn’t stop. I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t.

Because sometimes… self-preservation looks a lot like selfishness. Sometimes, in order to breathe, you have to leave the people who love you choking. Sometimes, breaking a promise isn’t a conscious decision... it’s the result of drowning so long that even the lifeboat feels like weight.

I meant it when I said I’d always choose him. I meant it with every fragile, hopeful piece of me. But today… I had to choose me. Even if that meant becoming the villain in his story.

I screamed.

I screamed so hard my lungs burned, like they were tearing open from the inside out. The wind at the rooftop swallowed the sound, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t screaming to be heard. I was screaming to finally let it out... all of it.

The grief. The pressure. The guilt of hurting James. The guilt of not disappointing my dad even when I promised that I'd do better. The weight of pretending to be okay.