Page 163 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

So I waited…

And waited…

Until finally⁠—

I’m not sure.

That was it.

Not a yes. Not a no. But something to keep me hanging by the edge.

Hopeful, but close to dying.

I stared at the message, my chest tightening again—but this time, it wasn’t just pain. It was urgency.

Because suddenly, waiting didn’t feel like an option anymore.

I needed to see him. To fix it. To make sure we weren’t ending like this.

So before I could overthink it, I grabbed my things and went to his apartment.

Three knocks on his door—the sound echoed louder than it should have.

A few seconds passed, and then the door opened.

Victor stood there. And for a moment, everything stilled, because I saw the love of my life again.

But he looked… different.

Not undone. Not broken. But tired.

There was a heaviness in his eyes, something faintly guarded beneath the surface. Like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Like something had lingered with him, too.

And for a brief, fragile heartbeat, relief slipped into my chest. Because I knew he was affected too. That this—us—mattered to him too.

“Hey,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

He stepped aside, wordlessly.

I walked in.

In the living room, we sat across from each other.

Same place. Same people. But everything felt unfamiliar now.

Victor leaned back slightly, one arm resting along the edge of the couch.

There was a space between us that hadn’t been there before. I could feel it, yet I still tried to deny it.

I sat forward, hands clasped together, trying to steady them.

But the silence stretched—heavy and unforgiving.

I swallowed. “How are you?”

He didn’t look at me right away.

“I’m okay,” he said.