e measured in weeks or days-it was measured in unsent texts, avoided songs, and the ach

ed running in the mornings with Camila. Her days were filled, her schedule tight. But

he'd reach for her phone during sunsets, ready to share a photo-only to stop herself at th

-

but he hadn't picked up his sketchbook in weeks. The same playlist looped in his headphones, filled with songs that rem

ld himself this space was healthy. That maybe they both needed to gro

-

of summer. Ava sat on a bench outside her last class,

ws," she sai

n eyebrow. "

feel about unpl

inked.

Off-campus. Big one. Guess

ch flippe

ac

usand thoughts crashin

Camila said quickly. "I jus

if I'm ready,"

e doesn't come wrapped in perfect timing. Sometimes, it's just... a conv

-

t green dress that fluttered around her knees, her hair pulled back loosely.

warm night air. She recognized a few people from high school, som

e he

aughed at something one of them said, his dimples flashing. She almost turned and ran. But he looked up- and saw her. Their eyes met. The world st

d, stopping i

H

is voice falter

ank

a moment, the noise of the

been?" he fi

id truthfully.

ded. "

ghts she'd imagined this conversation. But now

o somewhere qu

ated, the

-

t of the backyard, where fairy lights hung from

under a canopy of leaves, t

e said softly. "I thought if I stayed

wn at her han

hinking a lot about what I said. A

gaze, hear

" she

to give you the kind of love you deserve when I couldn't even get my own

s. "You did. But I hu

ve called,

was drowning instead o

t for a while, the n

love you,

topped," s

w if we're ready. Not completely. But I do know I d

rt of her aching with the w

e do now?"

e. "We start slow. We try again. As friends firs

m, resting her hea

," sh

-

, Ava woke to a

a

w we've still got work to do

ed and t

v

uild. Even if it'

-

avoided- her fear of abandonment, his anxiety about failure, the pres

for his hand again. They weren't perfect. But

ve back in. They waded. Texts replaced silence. Short, tentative at first- "How's your day?" "Saw something that reminded me of you."

e whole subway ride into town. When she stepped into the quiet café near the edge of campus, she spotted him inst

l longer than before, curling slightly near his ears. His denim jacket had frayed at the collar, the same one h

said as sh

H

aramel latte on Saturdays," he said,

Some things d

me learning how to ask the barista

t and surprised, like a breeze through a half-open

id. I just didn't always

was a

said, wrapping her fi

said. "I've

morning. No timelines. No big d

oetry. He told her about coaching youth soccer and how he'd started drawing again- mostly for himself, mostly at night

-

sitting under the fairy lights. Her back was turned, but he'd captured the tilt of her shoulders and

v

ok like someon

came sec

a

lways

-

hing real and slow-burning and cautiously hopeful. One evening, as the sun dipped behind the skyline, Jace invite

ated- the

s were scattered around. A guy with a guitar sat on a stool, tuning the

her at

," he sai

id I

think you'

id I," she

ack, shoulders brushing, not quite

of sound that sank into your chest and m

out finding your way back

ret it?" she ask

way from the sta

e needed t

eed it. But I regret how much I let fear control

regret pretending I did

r. His expression w

need you,

hand. This time, the

-

ed in the quiet things: shared playlists again. Morning texts. The return of inside joke

past. Moments when Ava would flinch if she didn't hear from him for a full day, or when Jace strugg

ght on a walk. "But sometimes I don't even know wh

nt to be someone you feel safe unra

en quietly sa

-

n-progress but as partners in healing. Ava invited him to meet her parents

, where his little niece pulled Ava's hair playfully

ace laughed- and

-

a's room reading different books but sharing the same b

thinking,

," she

the two of us. Somewhere quiet. Coastal, may

d at him.

et. Just you and me. No sc

ok and resting her head on

need to rush

ed silence. A sketch of someone you never stopped seeing-even when they weren't there.

-

ter Three Contin

Three Word Cou

ps set during their summer trip-or shift to a past