The screen flickered to life, illuminating Sabrina’s tired, conflicted expression.
She hesitated—part of her didn’t want to open the photos. She knew it would hurt.
But another part of her felt she had to.
She tapped the gallery.
And then he appeared.
Her boyfriend. Smiling under warm sunlight.
Wrapped around her in a tight embrace at the beach. Making a goofy face during dinner.
Holding her hand as if letting go was never an option. Each picture hit her like a punch to the gut.
Her throat tightened.
She swiped to the next one.
And the next.
And the next.
The more she looked, the heavier her heart beca.
"I’m sorry..." she whispered, though no one could hear. The words cracked, barely forming.
She felt sick with guilt—guilt that her thoughts had been drifting toward Ross.
Guilt that her body reacted to him.
Guilt that whenever Ross smiled at her or looked at her with concern, sothing inside her fluttered.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
She lowered her gaze, sha prickling her skin. Am I cheating?
She hadn’t done anything—but the feelings were there.
They were growing stronger every day, and she was terrified of what that ant.
Her eyes blurred with tears. One slipped down her cheek, hitting the phone screen.
Then another.
Then she rembered the cold, crushing truth she had been avoiding.
Her boyfriend...
He was probably dead.
Or worse—he might be one of those zombies outside, shambling endlessly with empty eyes, no recognition, no warmth, no mories of the life they shared.
The idea hollowed her out completely.
The man who once held her with love now possibly wandered as a corpse, driven only by hunger and instinct.
"Why..." Sabrina’s voice cracked into a sob. She covered her face with her palm as more tears fell.
"Why did everything have to end like this...?"
She slid down to the floor, the phone pressed against her forehead as she cried—softly at first, then with trembling intensity.
The grief she had kept damd up for days ca flooding out: fear, heartbreak, confusion, loneliness, guilt. All of it mixed until she could barely breathe.
Minutes passed. Maybe longer.
Eventually, her sobs softened. The storm of emotion subsided just enough for her to lift her head.
She looked at herself in the mirror across the room.
Her eyes were swollen and red, her lips trembling slightly.
But beneath the sorrow, sothing else shimred faintly. A spark.
She pushed herself up slowly and stepped toward the mirror.
She gripped the sink with both hands, leaning closer.
"You can’t keep living like this," she murmured to her reflection. Her voice was hoarse, but firr now. "You can’t cling to what’s gone."
It hurt to admit it. It tore her apart. But she needed to say the words.
"He’s gone... and I have to survive."
She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and wiped her tears with deliberate movents.
Her entire deanor shifted—her spine straightened, her shoulders rolled back, and her expression hardened with resolve.
This world was cruel now. This world demanded strength. And she had to find hers again.
Whatever the future held—uncertainty, danger, even Ross—she would face it head-on.
She pocketed her phone and unlocked the door.
When she stepped out, she wasn’t the sa trembling girl who had entered.
Her steps were steadier. Her breathing calr.
The pain was still there, lingering like a bruise that would take ti to fade, but beneath it was a newfound determination.
Sabrina walked forward, ready to face her fate... and ready, perhaps, to slowly let go of her past.
She wanted to see one person so desperately that her whole morning felt like a blur.
Every step she took, every corner she turned, her eyes searched for him—Ross.
And she didn’t have to look long.
As always, he was exactly where anyone could expect to find him: at the center of a small whirlwind of people and responsibilities.
He stood surrounded by workers, survivors, and curious onlookers, answering questions, giving orders, fixing problems, and sohow still managing to look calm and composed.
Ross always carried himself with a kind of natural authority—one that made people flock to him without even realizing it.
Sabrina stayed at a distance at first, her fingers twisting nervously around each other.
She waited five minutes. Then ten. Then twenty.
Nearly half an hour passed before he finally started wrapping up the last of his tasks.
Most people would have gotten tired of waiting, maybe even annoyed.
But not Sabrina.
She didn’t mind at all.
Just watching him—his focused expression, the strength in his movents, the quiet confidence in the way he spoke—made her heart flutter in a way she couldn’t fully hide.
She felt warm. Safe. Drawn.
And, embarrassingly, happy.
When Ross finally noticed her, his face softened.
He dismissed the last worker with a nod, and monts later, the two of them found themselves having lunch together.
They sat across from each other, sharing simple food yet laughing as if it were a royal feast.
Every ti Ross chuckled, Sabrina’s heartbeat jumped.
Every ti she said sothing silly and he smiled at her—really smiled—her chest tightened.
Around them, people whispered.
"I swear there’s sothing between them."
"They look so close."
"They’re totally becoming a couple, aren’t they?"
Sabrina tried to ignore it, but she could feel her cheeks heating.
Ross didn’t seem to care at all, continuing the conversation like the entire world wasn’t watching them.
And though the rumors weren’t true—not yet—Sabrina knew she was getting dangerously close to wanting them to be.
She couldn’t keep pretending she wasn’t drawn to him, not after everything.
Lunch ended too quickly. Too soon.
The mont Ross stood up, Sabrina felt a strange determination settle inside her chest.
She had made a decision last night—one she thought she’d stick with—but now, after seeing him, hearing him laugh, watching him breathe...
She couldn’t hold it back anymore.
She took a deep breath, her hands trembling just slightly.
When Ross turned to look at her, she forced herself to speak before courage slipped through her fingers.
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