Chapter 7 - Tears and Texts

Aria's POV

When I got home, Dad was already at work. Mom was there. She knows how I feel about being controlled, and she understands me. It’s just some days, she also fails to. But I guess that’s human nature. You can’t always understand everything. Everyone has different perspectives.

I told her about my project. She listened and said, “I don’t think Dad will agree. I know it’s important, but still. You know him.”

I nodded, disappointment sinking in. But still, it was my project, and I had to do this.

“I’ll talk to him when he’s back. Just help me, okay?” I said to my mother, my voice tinged with sadness.

She agreed.

As I walked past the door to my room, my phone buzzed. One new notification:

Heyyyyyy

You didn’t message? Are you home yet? If you don’t reply in 5 minutes, I’ll be at your balcony. WARNING ⚠️

Of course, it was Ray. His message lifted my spirits. It felt good to know someone cared enough to check in, someone I didn’t have to pretend around.

Sorry, I got caught up talking to my mom. I forgot. Apologies🥺

 I typed, sending the crying emoji just to make sure he understood.

Accepted, he replied, without hesitation.

He couldn’t resist that emoji. I didn’t know why, but it always worked on him.

I sent ❤️ to check if he was still upset with me.

🤗 he responded. His way of showing he cared—he never said it outright, but his actions always spoke louder.

Later that night, Dad came home. I was nervous to ask him, but I had no choice. This project was important.

Mom called us to dinner. She’d made his favorite dishes. Dad looked impressed.

We had light conversation during dinner. Once it was over, he sat on the couch, glued to his phone, catching up on the news.

“Dad, I need to talk to you about something,” I said, my voice uncertain.

“Say,” he replied, barely looking up.

“Uh, I have to do a p-project on local shops... or markets,” I said hesitantly.

“So what? Go and do it,” he answered casually.

“But we have to do it... in a group. A group of four,” I added, feeling my nerves flare.

He didn’t even look up at first. Then, when he heard the word group, his expression changed.

“So, what nonsense are you talking about? Take time from your busy schedule and go work. What’s wrong with you?”

I hesitated, then added, “Actually, I have two boys in my group.”

As soon as he heard this, he stared at me, fury evident in his eyes.

“Why? You’re in college, right? And the teacher is still making groups for you? Of course not! Tell me this is your idea!” His voice was sharp, rising with anger.

“Do you even understand how the world works?

 You can’t even tell the difference between good and bad people!” His words were like a slap to the face.

I stayed silent. I knew better than to argue. I couldn’t fight him when he was in one of his moods.

He was so overprotective, suffocating me with his control. Ugh, it was exhausting.

He continued, ranting, and finally told me to go to my room.

I rushed upstairs, my chest tight. The moment I lay on my bed, the tears started flowing. Why did I have to always feel like this? Why couldn’t I just make my own decisions? Why couldn’t he trust me? Why did he have to take control of everything? Why was this happening again?

Am I really that bad? I thought, my mind spiraling. Did I do something wrong? What’s wrong with me?

My pillow grew damp with tears, and the cool breeze from the balcony door made me shiver, fueling the fire inside me. My mood spiraled lower and lower.

I needed someone to talk to. Ray. He was the one person who could make everything feel better. But then, as I grabbed my phone, a thought struck me: I couldn’t lie to him. No matter what, he’d know. I didn’t know how, but he always could tell when I was lying.

So, I couldn’t lie anymore. I didn’t even try.

To distract myself, I opened my photo gallery, scrolling aimlessly. I stopped when I saw a picture of Him and me. Oh god, I had completely forgotten about that . A whole month had passed without me thinking about it. It wasn’t until now that the memory hit me. I was right—it wasn’t that I had forgotten about him, it was just that I hadn’t been in a better environment or surrounded by better memories. That’s why I kept thinking about him. No, man... I never thought this would happen.

Good job, Aria.

I continued scrolling, and then I found —the picture Ray had sent me, the cropped one. It was so special. Our first picture together—and the last, since we never took photos after that.

I stared at the photo, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over me. I remembered everything—the fun times, the fights, the inside jokes, all of it. I felt a warmth inside, even though I also longed to talk to him.

Wait…he had messaged me. He seriously had some sort of magic when it came to timing.

Good night, Miss Carry! ❤️

Good night, Mr. Eclair! 🤗

Those simple words made everything feel better. For the first time in hours, I felt lighter, a smile tugging at my lips. And just like that, I fell asleep, forgetting the chaos of earlier, drifting into a peaceful sleep.

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