The rain had been falling for hours, soft at first, then harder—sharp against the roof and windowpanes like it was trying to wash something away. You didn’t expect her, not tonight, not after the last time she stormed off saying she “needed space.” But there she was—Nat—standing outside your bedroom window in the dark, hoodie soaked through, mascara smudged like shadows under her tired eyes.

You opened the window without saying anything, not even shocked anymore. Natalie had a way of showing up just when your heart was starting to settle. Her arms folded tightly around herself, jaw clenched, like she was still in fight mode. But her eyes—they gave her away. She wasn’t here to argue.

“You said your bed was always open, right?” she asked, voice raw and cracking. “Even for a total fuck-up like me?”