Over the next few days, Hanna’s phone was a lifeline she constantly checked, hoping for a message or a missed call. But when she did hear from Finn, the texts were short, impersonal, each one more devastating than the last.
Hey. I can’t really talk now. Sorry.
Busy with school. Talk later.
Can’t meet up this week. Family stuff.The words felt cold, distant, like he was a stranger, and for a moment she simply stared, trying to understand how he could sound so indifferent after everything they’d been through. She took a breath, composing a response: I know things are tough right now. Just wanted to see how you’re doing. Can we meet up soon?She waited, hoping that he’d respond quickly, that he’d want to see her. But several minutes passed before his response came in.
Maybe later. Got a lot going on.Hanna felt a pang of disappointment, but she brushed it off. Maybe he was just feeling overwhelmed. His parents’ ultimatum had been brutal, and maybe he was still trying to figure out a way around it. She tried calling him later that night, hoping to hear his voice, but the call went straight to voicemail. Frustrated and confused, she sent him a quick message: I miss you.But there was no reply.
Over the next few days, she tried to stay positive, telling herself he just needed some time to sort things out. But as the silence grew, the ache in her chest deepened, each unanswered message and brief reply leaving her feeling more isolated. The boy who had once promised to stand by her through anything was slipping away, and she didn’t know how to hold on to him.
By the end of the week, she finally mustered up the courage to send a longer message, putting everything she felt into words.
Finn, please talk to me. I know things are complicated with your parents, but I don’t want to lose you. Can we just meet up, somewhere quiet? We could figure this out together.The reply came hours later, and when it did, it was colder than anything she’d expected.
Hanna, I can’t keep doing this right now. My family is too upset, and I don’t want to make things harder. I need to focus on school and soccer, like they said. Maybe it’s just… better if we give each other space.She read his message over and over, the meaning sinking in slowly like an anchor dropping to the ocean floor. Space.So, that’s it? You’re just… done?A few minutes passed before he responded.
I’m not saying we’re done. Just that things are different now.Her stomach clenched as she read the words. Different. He was pulling away, giving up, piece by piece. Her heart twisted with a mixture of hurt and anger. She wanted to call him, to demand he tell her what was really going on, but some part of her held back, afraid of what he might say.
The next day at school, she saw him across the hallway, and for a moment, her heart soared. But Finn didn’t look up. He turned quickly, disappearing down a side hall, as though avoiding her. The rejection hit her hard, and she felt the weight of his distance settling over her.
Desperate to get through to him, she tried one last time, sending him a message that night.
I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Finn. We said we’d be there for each other. Please just talk to me.The reply came late, and when it did, it felt like the final blow.
I’m sorry, Hanna. I can’t.Hanna put her phone down, her hands trembling as she fought back the tears. She could feel herself breaking, piece by piece, each unanswered call, each distant message widening the space between them. She had never felt so lost, so painfully alone.