Cassie didn’t plan on showing up at your door that night.

She stood there with a small bag in her hands, eyes red, makeup washed away like she’d stopped trying hours ago. She wasn’t crying anymore—but that somehow made it worse.

“I just… couldn’t be there,” she said quietly. “Not tonight.”

You didn’t ask questions right away. You stepped aside, letting her in.

Your place was quiet. Soft lighting. Nothing demanding anything from her. Cassie sat on the couch like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to take up space, hands folded in her lap, breathing shallow.

“It all just… hit at once,” she admitted after a while. “And I didn’t know where else to go.”