65

KATHERINE THRONES

I drove back to the apartment complex, my heart racing with anticipation, fear, and excitement as well.

The cool evening breeze swept through my hair as I navigated the familiar streets.

I couldn't believe I had finally mustered the courage to confess my true feelings to Katie.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest, and for the first time in a while, I felt genuinely free.

She was my best friend, after all, and she deserved to know the truth. It was so hurtful and stressful hiding it from her. It was a relief to have her support, even though I knew she was still processing everything.

As I parked my car and made my way to Alexander's apartment, a sense of nervous excitement coursed through me.

I wanted to make things right, to show him that my feelings were genuine. I wanted to apologize for running away and accept to be his girlfriend for real this time.

I wanted this. I wanted to be his own. I wanted to be his girlfriend.

I knocked on the door and awaited a response. I couldn't wait to see his face, to jump into his arms and tell him I loved him as well. I was practically smiling at the thought of it.

I knocked again, but no response either. I continued to knock, my knuckles rapping against the door several times.

Each knock seemed to reverberate through the silence, and my heart sank a little with each unanswered call.

I had hoped he would be home so we could talk, so I could explain everything properly and make things right. Seemed like he had gone out.

Just as I was about to turn away, a voice from inside caught me off guard. It was his voice, slurred and heavy, asking, "Who's there?"

I furrowed my brows, puzzled by his unexpected response. Why would he sound like that? Then, it hit me—he was drunk.

The realization sent a pang of guilt through me. I had hurt him earlier, running away without giving him a chance to explain. No wonder he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

"It's me, Katherine," I answered, my voice a mixture of concern and sadness. "Can we please talk?"

There was a pause, and I held my breath, waiting for his response.

After what felt like an eternity, his voice came again, rough and distant. "Go away, Katherine."

My heart sank further at his words, the rejection like a punch to the gut.

I wanted to explain, to apologize, to make things right, but it seemed he wasn't in a state to listen.

I leaned against the door, my forehead resting on the cool wood, frustration welling up inside me.

"Alexander, please," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. "I know I messed up, but I want to make things right. I want to talk to you."

There was a long silence, and I could almost hear the internal struggle in his mind.

Finally, his voice came again, softer this time but still tinged with bitterness. "Katherine, just go. I don't want to hear it."

Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, a mixture of regret and longing washing over me. I had hurt him deeply, and now, he was pushing me away. I took a deep breath, wiping away the tears before they could fall. I wouldn't give up that easily.

"Alexander, I'm not leaving until we talk," I insisted, my voice determined. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry for that. But I need you to understand why I did what I did."

There was a heavy sigh from the other side of the door, and I could almost picture him running his hand through his hair in frustration. "Katherine, I can't do this right now. Just fucking go."

I closed my eyes, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. I knew I couldn't force him to listen, but I also couldn't walk away without trying to make amends. "Fine, Alexander," I said, my voice steadier now. "I'll leave for now. But I'm not giving up on us. Whenever you're ready to talk, whenever you're sober enough to hear me out, I'll be here."

With that, I turned away from the door, my heart heavy with a mix of emotions. I walked away, my steps slow and reluctant, but I knew that I couldn't force him to confront his feelings before he was ready.

All I could do was wait, hoping that someday he would be willing to give us another chance.

-:-

Monday morning arrived, casting a gloomy shadow over the start of the school week. Why? Because I had not woken up to Alexander's good morning texts, nor had I spoken to him since that evening.

As I walked through the bustling corridors, my heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

I had to talk to Alexander, to make things right between us. The weekend had been long and agonizing, filled with unanswered calls and texts, and I couldn't bear the thought of him staying angry with me for much longer.

Spotting Alexander by his locker, I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders.

Today was the day, and I was determined to break through the wall of silence that had grown between us.

With every step I took, my confidence wavered slightly, but I pushed through, my determination overriding my doubts.

"Hey," I greeted him, my voice a mixture of hope and trepidation.

He glanced at me, his expression icy and distant.

It was a look I wasn't accustomed to seeing on his face, and it sent a shiver down my spine. "Hey," he replied curtly, his tone devoid of warmth.

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat growing as I tried to find the right words. "Look, Alexander, I know you're upset with me. And I understand why. But we need to talk about this. We can't just keep avoiding each other."

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the contents of his locker as if they held the answers he was seeking.

"I messed up, okay?" I continued, my voice growing more urgent. "I shouldn't have run away like that. But I need you to know that I care about you, that I never meant to hurt you. I love you"

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a hardened expression.

"I need you to say something," I pleaded, my heart aching at his continued silence. "You can't just shut me out like this. We're supposed to be able to talk to each other, to work through things."

Finally, he looked at me, his gaze unreadable. "Maybe we're not as good at that as we thought," he said coldly, his words a sharp rebuke.

I felt a pang of pain at his response, the weight of his anger crashing down on me.

This wasn't the Alexander I knew, the one who was open and caring, who always found a way to make me smile.

Something had changed between us, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing the connection we had.

"Please, Alexander," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I want to make things right, to fix this between us. But I can't do it alone. I need you to talk to me, to tell me how you feel."

For a moment, it seemed as if he might relent, as if he might open up and let me in.

But then, he shook his head and closed his locker with a resounding thud.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, feeling utterly defeated.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched him disappear into the crowd of students.

This wasn't how I had hoped our conversation would go. This wasn't how I had hoped our relationship would go- or rather, end.