All I think about

Mallory

I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Kian's face when I told him it was over, the hurt in his eyes—it wouldn't leave me. Every time I closed my eyes, it was there, like a ghost haunting me.

I sat in my room, staring blankly at the wall, trying to pretend that I hadn't just shattered something good. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I had done the right thing.

Right?

I hated myself for not being able to hold onto him. He deserved so much more than me. He deserved someone who wouldn't drag him down with my problems.

There was a knock on my door, and I jumped, wiping away the few stray tears that had fallen. I didn't want to answer it, didn't want to face anyone, but I couldn't ignore it.

I opened the door, and there was mammy, standing in the hallway, looking at me with a tired expression.

"Everything okay, Mal?" she asked softly.

I nodded quickly, too quickly. "Yeah, fine. Just tired."

She raised an eyebrow, not buying it. But she didn't press, and I was thankful for that.

She was about to turn to leave when she paused. "You know, your father—he hasn't been home all day, but he's been talking about you. How much he's worried."

I swallowed hard. "I'm fine, mam."

"Right," she said, her voice a little softer now. "Just... don't shut us out, alright? If you need anything—"

"I'm fine," I repeated, more forcefully this time.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded and left the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow as the tears finally came. I hated how much I missed him already.