The noise of clattering of utensils could be heard from the kitchen. Groaning, I sat up on the couch and stretched my legs. After letting out a yawn, I slowly dragged myself to the kitchen where Dad was engaged in crushing the cheese.

"Cheese omelet?" he asked.

It was Sunday, I realized.

"Yep." I said, my voice rough partly due to sleep and partly due to the crying.

"Go and freshen up first." he ordered, pulling the pan out of the drawer.

"I don't want to." I said and yawned again but one glare from him was enough to make me bolt towards me room.

Finishing my morning routine, I changed into another oversized hoodie and sweatpants and knotted my hair on top of my head.

When I exited the bathroom, a figure accross my window caught my attention. It was the first time I was seeing him after the misunderstanding. He hadn't witnessed me yet. Leaned against the window of his room, he was lost in some deep thoughts.

He might have felt my presence because his eyes shot towards me and a thick layer of indifference coated his face. He backed away and pulled the curtains over the window, creating a barrier between us.

Not wanting to cry again, I pushed his thoughts to the back of my mind and descended the stairs, making my way to the dining room. On the table, juice, toasts, butter, cheese omelettes and coffee was already waiting for me.

"Fancy!" I commented and sat down in front of Dad.

His gaze was focused on me, his expressions strained due to many questions that must be occupying his mind but I kept my face straight.

"Mmm." I moaned as the cheese burst in my mouth. "It's great."

"Thanks." he said.

Despite the chaos in my mind, I decided to block my mind from my body for now and enjoyed the breakfast that my father cooked so lovingly.

"What?" I finally asked when Dad kept assessing my face for answers.

"Are we going to talk about last night?" He asked, refilling my glass with juice.

"There is nothing to talk Dad. I'm fine." I said, plastering a fake smile on my face.

"Ali!" he made his I-know-it-all face.

"Dad! Please. Trust me. I'll be fine." I replied.

Sighing, he ended our conversation by saying, "Fine. I'm letting it go for now. But if he-who-must-not-be-named make you cry once more, I'm gonna serve his head on a platter to you."

I smiled before muttering "Sure" and indulged myself in devouring the heavenly breakfast.

...

It was almost 6 in the evening when I finally left my bed and decided to do something about my pathetic condition.

I had two options. I could either stay in my bed and wait for a miracle that would cause Adam to come to my house and listen to me or I could go to his home and talk to him.

I decided to do the latter one.

After running a comb through the tangled mess on top of my head, I made my way to his house.

My heart was beating hard and my palms were sweaty but that didn't stop me from knocking their door. Tiffany opened the door and welcomed me inside their house warmly, giving an idea that Adam hadn't told her about anything.

After having some initial chat with her, I excused myself and paced towards Adam's room that was on the second floor.

My insides clenched in fear as I brought my hand to the door and after much contemplation, finally knocked on it.

"Come in." came his voice, exhausted and detached.

Bracing myself, I opened the door and stepped inside. There he was, flopped in front of his study table, jotting something down on his notebook.

"Adam." I whispered and he turned around with an alarming speed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not an inch of familiarity in his tone.

"How are you?" I asked, lowering my gaze to the ground.

He stood up and walked to me, stopping when he was at one arm's distance from me. I shifted on my feet under his scrutinizing gaze, his warmth sending chills down my spine.

"I think I told you to stay away." he said.

"I know." I raised my head and said. "But I need you to believe me Adam. I didn't do anything."

My voice was on the verge of breaking. "It was Chloe. I swear she is the one who did it." I wearied.

"I believe you." he said but his voice still cold.

"You believe me?" I asked, unsure if I had heard right.

He nodded, his eyes boring into mine. "Do you really think I'll believe such shit? I am not stupid."

I can't explain in words how much happiness did I felt at that moment. In excitement, I lunged at him and wrapped my arms around him. "Thank you." I exclaimed, controlling myself from smothering him with my tight hug.

I expected him to return my hug, or at least say something. But he didn't do either. Instead, he unwrapped my arms and scooted away from me, creating a reasonable distance between us.

I stood there still, with a baffled expression on my face.

Didn't he say he believe me?

"What's wrong?" I asked, a confused smile on my face.

"We.." He motioned first at me then at himself. "This.. It can't happen."

"Wh.. What do you mean? Didn't you say you believe me?" I asked, exhaling deeply.

"I believe you Alicia." he said. "But I don't want you around me."

"Why?" I whispered, controlling myself from bursting into tears.

"You made me believe that it's okay to let someone in. You made me believe that it's okay to open up. You changed me and not for better. Look what it did to me." his voice was accusing, as if everything was my fault.

"Everything was going fine. I was fine. But then you came, and everything changed. You ruined everything." he said and at that point, I wasn't even controlling the teardrop that rolled down my cheek.

"Are you.. Are you saying that I am the reason everything bad is happening to you?" I asked, swallowing the ball of saliva down my throat.

"You are not the reason. But you are definitely the trigger." he said, his voice charged with blame.

"I don't like this new me. I want to be the same person I was, before I knew you. I don't want to be this stupid, vulnerable person that you have turned me into." he added.

A voice escaped my mouth, something between a cry and a chuckle. I looked around, unable to meet his eyes after what he just said. My eyes fell one the suitcase leaned against the wall and ignoring my inner self that was stopping me, I asked, "Are you leaving?"

"My grandma lives in Brooklyn. I'm going to visit her for a week. I'll be back by next Sunday." he said but his voice told me one thing, his return won't bring him back. Not for me at least.

"What about school?" I mumbled, my knees becoming weaker with every passing second.

"School is off for next two days because of the construction. I've no class on Wednesday and I've already submitted a leave for Thursday and Friday." he said.

He has it all planned.

My throat felt clogged because of the tornado of emotions whirling inside me. After my third attempt of saying something, I finally succeeded. "Great." it sounded more like a whisper.

"I.. I should go." I smiled briefly and turned around, letting the tears welled inside my eyes flow freely. He didn't even try to stop me. So I left his room, shut the door behind me and scurried towards my own house in a dangerously fast speed.

Locking myself inside my room, I pulled a photo frame from the side drawer of my bed and slid down against the wall. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I scanned the woman in the photo and prepared myself for crying my heart out to her.

"You said love is the most beautiful thing in the world." my tone was accusing, just like Adam's. "Why didn't you tell me before how much it fucking hurts?"

"Why didn't you tell me how it breaks you?" I whispered, bringing the photo to my chest and leaning my head against the wall.

"It hurts Mom. You lied. It is not the most beautiful thing. It's the worst actually." I said between hiccups.

"The worst."

________________________