Tabitha slammed the door behind her, the sharp sound echoing through the quiet house. Her mother's words still stung in her mind, harsh and relentless. "You're always overreacting, Tabitha. Why can't you just calm down?"
She stood there for a moment in the hallway, the weight of the words pressing against her chest. Her throat tightened, her eyes stinging with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. Not now. Not when everything felt like it was falling apart.
The house was silent—eerily so. It always was after their arguments. Her mother's voice, filled with disappointment and impatience, seemed to linger in the corners of the room. It felt like the walls themselves were closing in on her. How had it all gone so wrong? She could barely remember the last time her mother had looked at her without frustration. Each conversation felt like a battle. Every word she spoke seemed to make things worse.
And then there was her best friend. The one person she thought she could count on. "You're always crying, Tabitha," she'd said, her voice tinged with something that sounded like exhaustion. "You can't keep living like this. I can't keep carrying you."
Maybe she was right. Maybe Tabitha was too much—too emotional, too broken, too hard to love. She didn't know anymore. All she knew was that the silence of the house pressed down on her like a weight she couldn't escape.
The cool morning air outside beckoned to her, and she found herself stepping out of the house without really thinking about it. Her sweater felt too thin against the chill, but it was the kind of cold that seemed to seep deep into her bones, a reminder of how empty she felt inside. She walked without purpose, just moving, trying to escape the suffocating heaviness of her thoughts.
Before she knew it, she was standing in the park again—the same place she had been days before. It was quieter today, the trees casting long shadows in the early light, the ground still damp from the morning dew. And there he was. Sam. Sitting on the same bench, his dark figure almost blending into the shadows of the trees.
He was looking down, his expression unreadable. The wind rustled through the leaves, and the air smelled faintly of earth and grass. There was something oddly peaceful about the park in that moment, something that made her hesitate before approaching him. He didn't look up when she stepped closer, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he knew she was there, that he was aware of her presence even without looking.
She stopped a few feet away, unsure of what to do or say. The silence stretched between them, heavy but comfortable. Tabitha shifted on her feet, her fingers tugging at the sleeve of her sweater. Finally, she spoke.
"You look like you're thinking a lot," she said softly, not sure if she was even expecting a response.
Sam startled, his gaze lifting to meet hers. For a moment, neither of them said anything. He blinked, his dark eyes wide with surprise, then his face flushed a deep pink, almost like he hadn't expected her to speak at all. The sight of his shyness, his vulnerability, made her heart flutter in a way she didn't quite understand.
"I didn't expect… I mean, I wasn't expecting company," he said, his voice a little strained, but there was a lightness to it that hadn't been there the last time they spoke.
Tabitha smiled, the tension in her chest easing slightly. "I wasn't expecting to be here either."
There was a small pause as they both adjusted to the strange comfort of the moment. She sat down beside him on the bench, the cold from the metal seeping into her legs. She noticed how he kept his hands wrapped around himself, as if trying to shield himself from the world. She didn't want to press him, but the silence between them was starting to feel like an unspoken invitation.
He shifted slightly, and she glanced over at him, wondering what was going through his mind. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but kept hesitating. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter now, softer.
"I don't really know how to do this," he admitted, his eyes flicking to the ground as if he were embarrassed by his own words. "Being around people, I mean. I'm not… good at it."
Tabitha's heart softened. She knew that feeling all too well—the weight of being alone even when surrounded by people. "It's okay," she said gently. "I don't think anyone really knows how to do this. I don't, at least."
He looked up at her then, his expression shifting, just a little, as if he were seeing her for the first time in a new light. She didn't know why, but she could feel a warmth spreading between them, something unspoken but real.
"I just don't want to mess things up again," he said, his words quiet, tinged with something that sounded like fear.
Tabitha nodded slowly, the words resonating with her in a way she hadn't expected. Mess things up again. The weight of those words was heavy, and she wondered what he meant by them. But before she could ask, he glanced at her, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
"I'm afraid I'll fall for you," he said, almost as if it were a confession, but his voice was so soft it was barely a whisper.
Her breath caught in her throat at his admission, and her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure how to respond. The words hung between them, charged with an intensity she wasn't sure she was ready for. She tried to keep her voice steady, even as she felt her pulse quicken.
"I… I don't know what to say," she said, her voice softer than usual. "But maybe we both need time."
Sam nodded slowly, his eyes downcast again. He looked almost relieved, as if he had let something out that had been weighing on him. But there was still that tension between them, a quiet uncertainty that neither of them knew how to break.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of the unspoken words lingering in the air. Finally, Tabitha stood, brushing the dirt off her jeans.
"Well," she said, trying to keep the awkwardness from her voice, "I should probably go. I'll see you around?"
He stood with her, a small, shy smile crossing his face as he nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you."
As she walked away, she couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder, wondering what Sam was thinking. What was behind the way he looked at her? And more importantly, what did it mean for them, for the quiet connection that had formed between them in such a short time?
End of chapter 4.