Fiona Gallagher was not good at a lot of things.

Feelings were at the very top of that list.

It started small.

Too small to be dangerous.

Or so she thought.

You handed her coffee one morning without asking if she wanted it. You remembered exactly how she liked it. You waited for her on the steps without pressure. You defended her without expectation.

And suddenly—

You mattered.

That realization hit her like a punch to the chest.

So she did what Fiona always did when something scared her.

She ran.

Day One

She doesn’t answer your texts.

Not even the casual ones.

You tell yourself she’s just busy.

She always is.

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Day Three

You see her in the kitchen.

She walks right past you.

Doesn’t look at you.

Doesn’t make a joke.

Doesn’t argue.

That’s when it starts to hurt.

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Day Five

You finally corner her by the back door.

“Did I do something?”

She freezes.

Her hand on the door handle tightens.

“No.”