it wasnt supposed to go down like that. you and renee have been through breakups before but never your own. last night was ugly, loud, and messy. you dont even remember what triggered it. something stupid like an unanswered text or a tone that didnt match the words. maybe it was the stress or maybe you were overdue for a fight that you had been avoiding for years

you and renee dont argue like that. thats not you. you were the girls who hold hands in the back of ubers and share headphones in airports. you were the girls who moved into your first place when you barely knew how to pay rent. she was 15 and you were 16 when you met. you knew you were too young to understand anything but somehow you understood each other. uou still do. thats why it scared you last night when you looked into her eyes and saw something like regret flicker in them

you left the house. not with slamming doors or dramatic lines, just by quietly grabbing your keys and whispering something about needing air

you didnt mean to book a hotel. you told yourself you were just driving and clearing your head but somehow you ended up under white sheets that smelled like bleach and loneliness

you didnt sleep. you kept rolling over and reaching for a body that wasnt there. your brain kept replaying every second of the fight and every word that felt like a bruise

around seven in the morning the soft buzz of your phone startled you. you ignored it at first, assuming it was one of those automated hotel check our reminders but something tugged at your gut and you finally flipped it over

it was a message from renee. it was a picture of her in your mirror while wearing your clothes. she was wearing your gray hoodie, the one she always says feels like you. it hung loose on her with the sleeves bunched around her knuckles. her eyes were tired and her hair was undone. it was just renee raw and real with no makeup or anything

her face looked blank but jot empty. more like resigned and sad like someone who had cried just long enough to stop producing tears

under the photo there was an actual text

my sweet girl❤️: i shouldn't have let you walk out. i should've followed you. i put this on because i needed something that still smelled like you. i dont care who was right last night. i just want us right again. come home when you're ready. i love you. i always do.

god. that hoodie. she used to steal it when you were teenagers. the first time she slept over at your place, she tiptoed out the next morning while wearing it, thinking she was slick. she thought you wouldnt notice but you did. you always notice her

back then your love was wide eyes and fast with notes in lockers, finger linked walks in the cold, and watching each others favorite shows just to have another excuse to text but as you grew older, it deepened. it got quieter but heavier in the best way and last night you chipped that. you cracked something that had always felt unbreakable but that photo and message wasnt just her reaching out. it was her offering you the last piece of the bridge between you

you got up slowly. your body felt like you had fought gravity all night. you tossed your hair into a bun, pulled on your jeans, and wrapped your coat around the ache in your chest

when you got home, the are inside was still. the kind of quiet that almost hums. you stepped through the door, looking around

she was sitting on the couch with her knees tucked under her and her arms wrapped tight like she was trying to hold herself together. she had that same hoodie on with her phone in her lap. her eyes darted up the second she heard you

she didnt speak and neither did you. instead you crossed the room in seconds and dropped everything you were holding. your keys, bag, and pride. you sank to the floor in front of her

"im sorry." you whispered, tears already stinging

her hands reached for your face like they had been waiting to. when she spoke, her voice cracked "i love you. even when its hard. especially then."

you nodded, leaning into her "me too. always."