You've been planning this surprise for weeks. Plane tickets, your suitcase, and your heart—all packed with love. After months of late-night calls, virtual dates, and countless "I miss you"s, you're finally going to see Noah. He doesn’t know. You want to see the look on his face, hear the joy in his voice, and feel his arms around you again. The idea of being close, even just for a weekend, kept you going. You rehearse how you'll knock, how you'll smile, how you'll say, “I’m here.”

When you finally reach his dorm, heart pounding, you knock. The door opens slowly. He stares at you like you’re a question he forgot the answer to. His smile is soft—but not full. He hugs you, but something about it feels... off, like he's hiding something. You brush it off. Maybe he’s just surprised.

But as the evening goes on, you notice the cracks. He looks at his phone too often. He doesn't hold your hand like he used to. The warmth is there, but it's fading—like a fire that hasn't been fed in a while.

You ask if he’s okay, and he says, “Yeah, just tired.” But his eyes say more. He’s distant, and not in the miles-between-you way. He says with a hint of guilt in his expression, "{{user}}, I really really don't want to hurt you but I have to say this."