JHARIED'S POV
I barely slept last night. I didn't know what was harder—the anxiety in my chest or the silence Heartfilia left by not letting me into her room. I didn't hear her. She didn't even pass through the living room. It was as if she wanted to erase my presence from the entire house.
When I opened my eyes, my gaze went straight to her bedroom door. Still closed. It was early, barely 6:15 AM, but I felt like I'd been standing guard all night. I couldn't bear sleeping while she, I don't know—was crying? Afraid? Angry?
I didn't know.
I grabbed my jacket and went out to the kitchen. I got a mug, made some coffee, but no matter how hard I tried to make my morning feel normal, the anxiety wouldn't go away. There was a heaviness in the house. A heaviness in my body. A heaviness between us that I couldn't understand.
The click of her doorknob made the image of her immediately flash into my mind. I paused, stopping mid-sip of my coffee.
She came out: slowly, so quietly, so different from her usual movements.
She was dressed in her jacket; she was pale, her eyes were red, as if she had not slept all night. I didn't speak right away. I didn't want to make her any more tense.
"Good morning," I greeted her.
It was as if she hadn't heard me. She didn't even look at me; she just went straight to the table, sipped some water, and adjusted her bag as if she wanted to leave urgently.
I did so in a gentle manner. "Heart…" She didn't raise her head.
"Heart, speak to me," I said, in a quiet, straightforward manner.
"I don't have time, Jharied," she replied coldly. "I have somewhere to go."
"You're not leaving like that," I replied. I stood up, blocking her path without touching her. "What is going on with you?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, "I'm fine.
"You are not fine." I stared at her face. "You can't look at me. I've been trying to talk to you. You wouldn't let me into your room last night."
She shut her eyes tightly, clearly annoyed, but not at me—at what she carried.
"Jharied… please. Don't pressure me."
That hurt to hear, not because she was pushing me away, but because it was clear she was struggling and refused to let me share the weight she was carrying.
"Heart," I said softer now, "if you have a problem, tell me. I'm not your enemy."
"You wouldn't understand."
"What wouldn't I understand? Just try to trust me."
I saw her shoulders rise a bit. She was fighting back the tears.
"Not now."
That was all, but I felt the plea in her voice.
"But I'm still driving you," I said
"I don't want you leaving alone."
She did not disagree, nor did she agree. She just stood silent, holding her bag, and walked right up to the door.
I followed her right away. I had so many things to ask but kept quiet for now.
The whole drive was quiet. I grasped the steering wheel and tried to sort out in my mind where it all started. She stared out the window with her hands clasped as if they were shaking.
"Really, you are not going to tell me now?" I asked while driving. Not forcefully, but laced with concern. She shook her head. "I can't talk about it right now."
"But, Heart—"
"Jharied, please," she whispered almost inaudibly. "Just leave me be for now."
I stopped. I didn't say another word. I didn't want to overwhelm her any more than I had to. If she needed space, I would give it to her. But that didn't mean I would stop worrying.
When we arrived at school, she got out without looking at me.
"I'll walk you to your classroom," I said.
"No need. I can manage."
"I'm not asking. I'm walking you."
By the tone of my voice, she could tell I wasn't going to take no for an answer.
So, she didn't argue.
We walked inside, still silent. But with every step she made, it was clear she was carrying the weight of the world.
She kept her head down, even though she knew people were watching us, especially since we were together. There were people gossiping, staring, smirking. But she didn't care.
I cracked the door to her classroom open. "I'll stay here until you go inside."
"You don't have to—"
"I need to," I cut in. "And I want to."
She looked at me briefly, her eyes reflecting traces of exhaustion, tears, and fear. And before she could say anything, she turned her back and went inside without ever looking back.
I looked down at the ground.
I didn't know what hurt more, that she wasn't answering me, or the fact that it was so evident she had absolutely no idea where she fit into her own life.
When I came out of the classroom, I directly went to our hang-out place. I needed to breathe, and I needed to get my thoughts together about what I should do. When I arrived, Roy, Lara, and Zander were already there.
"What's up, jerk?" Roy slapped my shoulder right away.
"You look like you just buried someone."
I slumped into a seat. "Damn it… I don't know."
The three looked at each other.
"What? You and your wife had a fight?" Zander asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't call her my wife," I snapped, even though I knew he was only teasing. I rubbed my temples. "She has a problem." I had no choice but to tell them; I could trust them.
"What kind of problem?" Lara asked now serious. "Health? Family? You?" She asked this string of questions, and I wondered why I was included—how could I be the problem when I was this handsome?
"If I knew," I replied, "I would've told you already." I said flatly.
"So… she's not telling you?" Roy asked, folding his arms.
I shook my head hard. "Since last night. She hasn't spoken to me. She wouldn't let me in her room. Earlier… it was like she didn't even know me."
They were silent.
"Bro," Roy said, "that means it's serious."
"I know," I said. "But she won't say anything, even when I push her."
"Maybe she doesn't want to involve you," Lara said.
"When women have problems, sometimes they prefer to be alone."
"But Heart isn't like that," I immediately countered. "Even when she's scared, angry, or annoyed—she's not like that. She doesn't turn her back on people. She doesn't push people away."
"So that means…" Zander continued, "…this time something hit her harder.
I nodded. "I just don't know what. But I feel it. Something's wrong. Something big."
I tightened my grip on the table. "I don't want to abandon her. But she won't talk."
"Then find a way," Lara said. "You're Jharied. You don't give up."
I managed a slight, humorless smirk. "I won't give up. But damn it… it's hard seeing her like that."
"Did she say anything at all?" Roy asked, full of seriousness now.
"Only one thing," I replied, and they straightened up in their seats.
"What?" They waited on my response, clearly very much interested to know.
"'Just leave me be for now.'"
They were silent again, probably disappointed at my answer. What could I do, if that was all she kept saying?
I looked up at the ceiling of our spot, pushing my damp hair back.
"I don't know," I muttered,
"what she's going through. But I know one thing…
"What thing?" Zander asked.
"That something or someone is hurting her." Because that's when I realized the truth: I was restless because she wasn't pushing me away just to avoid me.
She was pushing me away to protect me. And that made me even more anxious.
Because if her problem was that heavy. how heavy was the person she was afraid of?