Chapter 5 Sofia pov(side of the story)

I stared at her message again. And the voice note.

I listened to it three times before I had the courage to reply. Her voice cracked, her tone hollow. I could hear it-she missed me. But I couldn't bring myself to respond the way she wanted. Not because I didn't care. But because... I couldn't.

Too much is going on in my life, things I don't even know how to explain. Problems that wrap around my chest like chains. And sometimes I wonder if it's better not to say anything at all. Because once I open up, everything will come spilling out. And I don't know if I'm ready for that.

Oh, right. I forgot the introductions.

I'm Sofia. Ema's girlfriend... or maybe ex-girlfriend. But in my heart, she's still mine. She might have pulled away, but the connection didn't die. Not for me.

I'm twenty. And yes-I'm a lesbian. Fully, truly, completely.

I've dated girls before. Plenty of them. And somehow, it always ends the same-obsession. They become obsessed with me. Needy. Intense. Ema was no different. Actually, she was worse. But in a sweet way.

Her obsession felt like safety, like being wrapped in a warm blanket after a cold, lonely day.

My mom is a pastor. Yeah, imagine the irony.

In her eyes, being gay is a sin. In her voice, it's disgust. That's why no one knows. Not my church friends. Not my family. Not even my neighbors. So every day, I live two lives: the perfect daughter... and the closeted lover.

One night changed everything.

I was bored, scrolling through my feed, and I posted a selfie. I didn't think much of it. Then-ping-a like. Then a DM. I opened it, and it was from a girl I didn't know. She complimented me, and I was curious. Who is this?

Then we had our first voice call.

Her voice. God... that voice.

Soft, deep in a way that made my stomach flutter. I remember closing my eyes just to hear her talk. And when she asked me out that same night, I didn't even think. I said yes.

We clicked. Instantly.

We talked every minute of the day. Laughed until midnight. Sent voice notes in whispers like we were each other's secrets. And somewhere in all of that, I fell. Not hard. But deep enough to get scared.

Because Ema's love was heavy.

Beautiful, but heavy.

She wanted to talk all the time, wanted to know everything, wanted my full attention even when I was drowning in my own mess. I loved that she cared... but it was too much sometimes. She doesn't know that I have anxiety. That I overthink. That sometimes I hate myself for not being able to love her back in the way she deserves.

So I pulled away.

Bit by bit. One missed call. One late reply. One silent night.

She noticed. Of course, she did.

She called me, asking what was wrong. But how do I say, "I don't know"? Because that's the truth. I didn't know. I just felt numb. Lost.

That night, she sent me a message saying she was losing her obsession. She wrote a whole paragraph that I honestly didn't finish because it hurt too much. My chest tightened. I didn't want her to stop loving me. Her love was loud. Fierce. And I got addicted to it.

So I texted her: "I'm sorry."

She replied fast, like always: "No problem."

But I knew it was a problem. A big one.

Two days later, she told me again-"I don't feel the connection anymore." I tried to explain that I had things bothering me, but she didn't push. She just said, "It's fine."

But it wasn't.

Her replies used to come with energy. Emojis. That cute way she always added a small "lol" even when things weren't funny. But now... they felt empty. Formal. Like talking to a stranger.

And it breaks me more than I can admit.

I check her status every day. I replay her voice notes like a fool. And now, my birthday is this Sunday... but I'm not excited. What's a birthday without the one person who made me feel like I was worth celebrating?

I still love her.

But I'm scared to say it.

Because maybe... just maybe... she's already moving on.