Shadow of doubts
VIOLET
The blinking cursor on my laptop screen felt like a ticking clock, each flash taunting me with my inability to write. I stared at the half-formed sentence I’d typed:
"Sometimes, love feels like an unfinished puzzle—pieces scattered everywhere, but none of them fit the way you want them to."
I sighed, deleting the words in frustration. Normally, writing came easily to me—a place where I could pour out my emotions and make sense of the chaos in my heart. But today, the words felt trapped, buried under the weight of everything happening between Ryan and me.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples, trying to force myself to focus. Maybe if I just stopped thinking about him—
My phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a new text. My stomach twisted as I reached for it, and my heart almost stopped when I saw his name.
Ryan.
With trembling fingers, I opened the message.
Ryan: “Hey. Hope you’re good. I’m sorry for snapping at you last night. I’ll be coming to Berkeley soon. I have something to tell you”
I stared at the screen, reading and rereading the words until they blurred together. He was reaching out. Apologizing. And he was coming here.
He had something to tell me.
A mix of relief and dread coursed through me. After the cold distance between us and the sharpness of his words last night, this felt like a lifeline I wasn’t sure how to grab. But at the same time, my mind spiraled with possibilities.
What did he want to tell me?
Was it about the picture? Was he finally ready to believe me? Or… was he coming to end things?
My chest tightened at the thought, and I shook my head quickly, trying to push the worst-case scenario out of my mind. No, he wouldn’t reach out like this if he was ending things. Would he?
I set my phone down on the desk, staring at it as though it held all the answers. My thoughts swirled like a storm, each one crashing into the next.
The room felt unbearably empty even more without the presence of Mia. She had left for her boyfriend's place two days ago. More reason that urge me into going to the party.
My phone screen glinted in my hand,the message from Ryan staring back at me. I contemplated replying. What would I say?
I placed the phone back on the desk and leaned my forehead against my palm, the tension in my shoulders refusing to ease. The silence of the room was deafening, yet the storm raging in my mind was even worse.
Just as I was about to push the thought of replying to Ryan aside, a sharp knock at the door shattered the quiet.
I froze, my head snapping toward the sound.
Who could it be? I wasn’t expecting anyone, and Mia wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.
Sliding out of my chair, I padded toward the door. A faint shuffling sound on the other side made me hesitate for a moment before I reached for the lock. Slowly, I pulled the door open, my eyes widening in surprise at the sight before me.
“Amelia?” I said, my voice more of a question than a greeting.
“Hi, Violet!” she exclaimed, relief washing over her face. “I was so worried about you!”
I stepped aside, allowing her into the room.
“You left without a word last night, and I looked everywhere for you,” she said, her words coming in a rush. “I called too, but you didn’t pick up.”
Right. She had called. I vaguely remembered seeing her name flash on my phone, but I’d been too wrapped up in the mess with Ryan to even think about answering—or maybe some part of me had been avoiding her on purpose.
“Are you okay?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.
It was then I realized I hadn’t said a word since she walked in.
“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” I blurted out quickly, the words tumbling over each other. “I just remembered I had an assignment due last night, so I left early. You were busy talking to people, and I didn’t want to interrupt. I should’ve called when I got home, but I ended up crashing immediately. Sorry about that.” I forced a smile, hoping it would ease her worry.
Amelia let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing. “Oh, okay. I was just worried. For a moment, I thought the tequila might’ve knocked you out somewhere,” she teased, the corner of her lips lifting in a playful smile.
I managed a small laugh, thankful for the lighter mood. “No, nothing like that.”
But her eyes lingered on me, scanning my face with a hint of unease. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look… pale.”
I must have looked terrible—I hadn’t really slept since last night. “I’m fine, really. Just tired,” I assured her. “Thanks for checking.”
She hesitated, as if debating whether to push further, but eventually nodded. “Alright, if you say so. I’m heading out now, but I’ll check on you later, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, forcing another smile. “Thanks, Amelia.”
I walked her to the door, watching as she left before locking it behind her.
The moment she was gone, I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
Maybe I was just being paranoid. Overthinking. Amelia seemed nice—she hadn’t done anything outright to suggest she wasn’t. So why did this uneasy feeling linger, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts?
Ashley’s voice echoed in my mind: If your gut is telling you something’s off, don’t ignore it.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to stop brushing it off.
I grabbed my phone and opened Instagram, typing Amelia’s name into the search bar. Her profile came up instantly—pictures of her smiling with friends, beach vacations, cute coffee shop aesthetics. Everything looked so ordinary, so curated.
I scrolled through her posts, one by one, searching for anything that might explain the odd feeling in my chest. Nothing stood out. Just the life of a seemingly normal girl.
I sighed, about to give up, when something caught my eye. An highlight reel
The highlight was from years ago—four, maybe even five.
It was labeled Golden Elite Gala Party.
I froze. Golden Elite—my high school. Amelia had been there?
Why hadn’t she mentioned it? I told her about Golden Elite once, and she’d acted like she’d never heard of it.
Curiosity prickling at my skin, I clicked on the highlight and began watching. It was a montage of a wild party—strobe lights, loud music, people dancing and laughing. Just another cruising night for Golden Elite’s elite crowd.
But then my breath hitched.
A photo came up on the screen, blurry but unmistakable. Amelia was standing in the frame, smiling brightly. And next to her…
It was Ryan.
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