Part 5 of The Space Between Us: When We Don’t Say Goodbye | Desire Lines
DL - There wasn’t a fight.
No shouting. No tears.
Just space. Quiet space.
And that was what frightened Livia the most.
For three days, Noah didn’t come by. No texts. No late-night check-ins. No casual jokes about her obsession with lemon tea or how she always fell asleep during movie credits.
She stared at her phone longer than she cared to admit.
Maybe this was what endings looked like now, not dramatic, not messy… just fading.
On the fourth night, it rained again.
And rain, for them, had never just been weather.
Livia stood by her window, her reflection ghosted over the streetlights outside.
She whispered to herself, “If you’re not coming back… say it.”
But silence remained loyal to the distance between them.
She didn’t sleep that night.
The next morning, a knock.
Not a message. Not a call. A real knock.
She opened the door.
Noah stood there, drenched, disheveled, holding nothing but a small note folded in his palm.
“I didn’t know how to show up,” he said.
“But then I realized... not showing up was worse.”
She didn’t respond. Just waited.
He unfolded the note and read it aloud:
“You scare me because you matter. And I didn’t know how to handle that.
But I’d rather lose my pride than lose you.”
Livia blinked fast. “Then why the silence?”
“Because I didn’t think I deserved you. And because I thought... maybe you'd realize you're better off without me.”
She stepped aside.
“Noah,” she said, voice trembling but firm, “don’t do that again. If you leave, leave. But don’t vanish.”
He nodded slowly. “I won’t vanish again. I promise.”
They didn’t hug. Not right away.
But he took off his wet jacket, stepped inside, and sat beside her.
And when she handed him her favorite mug, chipped and slightly warm, it felt like forgiveness.
That evening, they said nothing for hours.
But silence, when shared,
isn’t absence.
It’s trust.
To be continued...
Next Chapter: “The Words We Save”