The steps between us.

What we didn't say

Chapter 21 – (Ilona) 

I don't see him the next day.

Not at school. Not on the sidewalk. Not even online.

It's not unusual—we're not glued to each other. But after last night, after that walk, after his message, it feels like something's missing. Like a page got torn out of the story and I'm trying to read around the gap.

I check my phone more than I want to admit.

Nothing.

By late afternoon, I cave and text him.

Ilona: Hey. You okay?

No reply.

I tell myself not to spiral. Maybe he's busy. Maybe he's with his mom. Maybe he's just... thinking.

But the silence feels louder than it should.

I walk to the bookstore anyway. Just in case.

He's not there.

Instead, I find Madelyn.

She's sitting on the bench with the crooked slats, scrolling through her phone like she's waiting for someone. Her eyes flick up when she sees me.

"Oh," she says. "Hey."

I nod. "Hey."

There's a pause. Not awkward. Just... loaded.

"You looking for Avery?" she asks, voice too casual.

I hesitate. "Yeah. Have you seen him?"

She shrugs. "He was here earlier. Seemed off."

"Off how?"

Madelyn looks at me for a long moment. Then she says, "He told me he was confused."

I blink. "About what?"

"About you. About us. About everything."

I feel my stomach drop.

"He said last night felt like something," she continues. "But he wasn't sure if it was real or just... nostalgia."

I don't know what to say.

Because that's not what he told me.

That's not what last night felt like.

"I thought you said he didn't feel the same," I say quietly.

Madelyn shrugs again. "People change their minds."

I leave before I say something I'll regret.

That night, I sit on my bed with the poem open in my Notes app. The one I told him I'd show him. The one I wrote months ago, when I couldn't say the words out loud.

You are the story I never thought I'd get to tell. You are the sidewalk, the laughter, the hoodie in October. You are the maybe I've always wanted to be yes.

I stare at it until the words blur.

Then I delete it.

Not because I don't mean it.

But because I don't know if he does.

The next day, I see him.

He's by the lockers, talking to someone I don't recognize. His laugh is quieter than usual. His eyes scan the hallway like he's looking for something.

Or someone.

When he sees me, he freezes.

I walk past him.

He follows.

"Ilona," he says, catching up. "Wait."

I stop, but I don't turn around.

"I didn't say that to Madelyn," he says. "Not like that."

I turn slowly. "Then what did you say?"

He looks frustrated. "I said I was confused. But not about you. About how to say what I feel. About how to not mess this up."

I cross my arms. "She said you weren't sure if last night was real."

He shakes his head. "It was real. It is real."

"Then why didn't you text me back?"

"I didn't know what to say."

I laugh, but it's not funny. "You always know what to say, Avery."

"Not when it matters," he says, voice cracking. "Not when it's you."

That stops me.

Because I know that feeling.

I've lived in it for years.

"I deleted the poem," I whisper.

He looks at me like I just told him I burned a bridge.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't think you wanted it."

"I did," he says. "I do."

We stand there, in the middle of the hallway, with people brushing past us like we're just scenery.

"I'm scared," I admit.

"So am I."

"But I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," he says. "Unless we keep pretending this isn't something."

I take a breath.

And this time, I don't hold it.

"I love you," I say.

His eyes widen.

Then soften.

Then he says, "I've been trying to say that for years."

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Thanks for reading 

Bye Loves~~