With less than a week before Ryan left, every moment started to feel heavier - and every second, more precious.
"Five days."
Ava said it casually, but the words hit Zoey like a quiet storm.
They were sitting in the kitchen, sunlight pouring in through the window. Ryan was in his apartment upstairs finishing paperwork for university. Everything felt normal. Too normal.
"Don't count," Zoey muttered, stirring her tea even though she had already added too much sugar.
Ava leaned against the counter, watching her closely. "You need to count. It's real."
Zoey didn't answer.
Five days.
Five days until he left for university. Five days until the late-night walks and random movie nights would turn into video calls and "I'll text you later." Five days until the space beside her would feel too wide.
Her chest tightened.
Later that afternoon, she found herself outside Ryan's building again.
She didn't knock right away. She just stood there, staring at the door, rehearsing words she still wasn't brave enough to say.
It's just Ryan.
Your Ryan.
Your best friend.
The door opened suddenly, and she nearly jumped.
"Zo?" Ryan blinked in surprise. "You've been standing there long?"
She flushed. "No. I just got here."
He studied her face for a moment, like he could sense something different. "Come in."
His room looked emptier now.
More boxes. Less clutter. Pieces of him already disappearing.
Zoey walked slowly around, fingers brushing the edge of his desk. "You're really almost done packing."
"Yeah." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Didn't realize how much stuff I had."
She forced a small smile. "You always keep everything."
"Not everything," he said quietly.
The words lingered in the air.
Zoey's heart thudded.
Don't overthink it.
They sat on the floor, backs against the bed. For a while, they just talked about small things — university orientation, his dorm roommate, what classes might be like.
Normal conversation.
Safe conversation.
But underneath it, something trembled.
"You'll visit, right?" he asked suddenly.
Zoey looked at him. His voice wasn't playful. It wasn't teasing. It was careful.
"Of course," she said quickly. "You won't get rid of me that easily."
He smiled faintly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good."
Silence settled between them again.
This silence was different from the others.
It wasn't comfortable. It wasn't light.
It felt like time ticking.
That evening, Ava insisted on ordering pizza.
"Countdown dinner," she declared dramatically.
Zoey groaned. "Can you not call it that?"
Ryan laughed softly. "It's kind of accurate."
They sat cross-legged on the living room floor, pizza box open between them. Ava kept talking, filling the room with stories and jokes, but Zoey noticed the way Ryan's laughter came slower tonight.
She noticed everything.
The way his fingers tapped lightly against the floor.
The way he looked around the apartment like he was memorizing it.
The way his eyes lingered on her just a second longer than usual.
Ava noticed too.
Of course she did.
At one point, Ava stood abruptly. "I forgot something in my room," she announced — clearly a lie — and disappeared down the hallway.
Zoey shot her a look, but Ava just winked before vanishing.
Now it was just the two of them.
Again.
Ryan cleared his throat. "You've been quiet."
"I'm just tired," she lied.
He tilted his head slightly. "Zoey."
That tone.
Soft. Gentle. Almost protective.
Her chest ached.
"I'm fine," she insisted, but her voice cracked just slightly.
Ryan shifted closer, not touching her, but close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.
"You don't have to pretend with me."
That did it.
Her eyes burned.
"I just…" She swallowed hard. "I don't like thinking about you leaving."
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he stared at the pizza box like it held answers.
"I don't like it either," he admitted quietly.
Her heart skipped.
He continued, softer now. "Everything's changing."
"Yes," she whispered.
Another silence.
Heavy. Tender.
Unfinished.
Zoey's hands trembled slightly in her lap. This was the moment. She could feel it. The opening. The space where the truth could slide out gently and finally breathe.
Say it.
Say it now.
But fear wrapped around her ribs, squeezing tight.
What if it ruins everything?
What if he doesn't feel the same?
What if this is the last peaceful night you have together?
She swallowed the words.
Instead, she smiled weakly. "You'll do great there."
Ryan looked at her for a long time.
Too long.
"Yeah," he said finally. "I hope so."
Later, when he walked her to the door, the hallway felt colder than usual.
Five days.
The number echoed in her head.
"Text me when you get home," he said automatically.
"I always do."
She hesitated before stepping away.
He hesitated too.
For a split second, it felt like he might say something more. Like he was standing on the edge of a confession just as much as she was.
But he didn't.
"Goodnight, Zo."
"Goodnight, Ryan."
She walked away before she could change her mind.
Back inside, Ava was waiting.
"You didn't tell him," she said gently.
Zoey shook her head.
Ava sighed but didn't scold her. "Four days now."
Zoey closed her eyes.
"I know."
Her chest felt tight. Not broken. Not shattered.
Just full of words she wasn't brave enough to release.
And time was slipping through her fingers.
With each passing day, the space between silence and confession grows smallerand sometimes the hardest battles are the ones fought within the heart.