I could still see the way Rei had looked at me last night—the way his expression had shifted, the way something inside him had dimmed. And now, looking at Nami, I realized I might have just done the same to her.
Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. She simply sat there, staring at me.
For the first time since last night, I allowed myself to feel it fully—the ache in my chest, the heaviness in my throat, the exhaustion in my bones.
And in that moment, I wasn't sure what was worse. The fact that I had hurt Rei…
Or the fact that I had meant every single word.
"You did the right thing," Nami said firmly.
I looked at her, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do you really think so?"
She nodded without hesitation. "Of course. You had already told him no before. So why is he coming back and dragging it out again?"
A dry laugh escaped her lips before she crossed her arms. "Honestly, I feel like punching him twice. And here you are, wasting your tears over him?"
I stared at her, surprised by her bluntness. But that was Nami—never one to sugarcoat her words. A part of me wanted to smile at her unwavering support, but another part of me… wasn't sure if I truly believed her.
"And you're crazy," Nami scoffed, narrowing her eyes at me. "Just last night, you told me you liked Arin. And now you're crying over Rei?"
I opened my mouth to respond but shut it just as quickly. Did I like Arin? Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. Maybe I was just trying to convince myself of something that wasn't even real.
Frustration bubbled up inside me, tightening my chest. I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. "I don't know, Nami. Maybe I like him. Maybe I don't. I really don't know."
Her gaze softened for a fraction of a second, but then she leaned in, her tone shifting from concern to authority. "Fine. You don't know about Arin. But one thing is clear—Rei's chapter needs to be closed. For good."
There was no hesitation in her voice. It wasn't just a suggestion—it was a warning. A demand.
I swallowed hard, staring at the desk in front of me. I wanted to believe it was that simple. That closing a chapter was as easy as turning a page.
But some stories had a way of clinging to you, even when you tried to leave them behind.