The texts on your phone were piling up, a mix of check-ins from friends and messages from group chats that you used to reply to instantly. Now, you couldn’t bring yourself to even open them. The weight in your chest had been growing for weeks, and instead of leaning on the people who cared about you, you’d started pulling away—like you always did when it got bad.

Drew noticed immediately.

At first, he tried to be subtle: asking if you wanted to invite Madison over for a movie night or reminding you that Rudy had sent a meme he swore you’d laugh at. But you’d brush it off, mumble something about being tired, and retreat into the cocoon you were building around yourself.

Today was no different. You were in the bedroom, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the wall when Drew came home. The faint sound of his keys hitting the counter and his boots thudding on the floor reached you, but you didn’t move.

When he walked into the room, his face softened immediately. “Hey,” he said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You didn’t respond.

Drew reached out, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You’ve been in here all day,” he said. “Did you eat?”

You shook your head, still avoiding his eyes.

“Okay,” he said, his tone calm but determined. “We’re not doing this.”

That made you look at him, frowning slightly. “Doing what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing to the blanket cocoon. “Shutting me out. Shutting everyone out.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” he interrupted, but his voice wasn’t harsh. It was full of concern. “And I get it, okay? I know it’s hard. I know you feel like you don’t want to bother anyone with what’s going on. But you can’t just disappear on me like this. On us.”

Tears pricked your eyes, and you turned away. “I’m fine, Drew.”

“You’re not fine,” he said softly, shifting closer. “And that’s okay. But you don’t have to go through it alone. Let me in.”

The sincerity in his voice broke something in you.