My Seven Ex's

Elio didn’t call the next day.

At first, I told myself it was nothing, people got busy, and silence didn’t always mean distance, sometimes it meant someone needed space. I repeated that until it almost felt believable.

But as the hours turned into night, my phone stayed quiet with no messages, no missed calls, just the faint glow of the screen each time I checked, as if mocking me.

Ava was different too.

She stayed over at my house that week, moving through my room like she belonged there, humming softly, borrowing my things. Yet whenever Elio’s name came up, she changed the subject, her laughter came late and her eyes drifted away from mine.

A week went by, only one short call from Elio, and few dry messages, nothing explained the growing distance between us.

It sat in my chest like unfinished business.

One night, Ava and I lay on my bed, the room dim except for the streetlight seeping through the curtains. The city outside was restless, alive, unaware of the quiet struggle in my head.

She turned suddenly, “so… what really happened that day at Elio’s?”

I hesitated, my fingers twisted into the blanket, but then I told her how close it got, how overwhelmed I felt, and how I asked to leave.

Her reaction surprised me.

“You’re eighteen now,” she said sharply, and “You’re not a kid anymore, you can’t keep acting scared.”

“That’s not fair, I said, “i wasn’t scared, i was just wasn’t ready.”

She scoffed, or maybe you just didn’t want to admit what you wanted.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

We argued voices low but sharp, as if we feared the walls might listed and old resentments spilled out, things we’d never said aloud. When it ended, we lay back-to-back, pretending sleep would erase the tension.

We didn’t speak for two days.

On the third night, Ava approached me quietly, she sat beside me, her tone soft and apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

Relief loosened something inside me, “i don’t want us fighting.”

“We won’t,” she promised, “let’s just fix things.”

She smiled, “we’ll go talk to Elio, together and Clear everything up.”

Hope bloomed me too easily.

Elio’s apartment felt different that evening too quiet, too controlled. He listened while Ava talked, nodding slowly, his face unreadable.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” he said finally, “i just didn’t know how to handle everything.”

I believe him, then he offered us drinks, I smiled and suggest milk, It was comfortable and something familiar to me.

Ava chose wine.

We talked, the tension eased and laughter returned in small bursts. I drank my milk, unaware of how warm my body felt and how light my head had grown.

Ava watched me closely and smile then her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen, “i need to take this.”

She stepped away, and the room shifted.

Elio moved closer, his hand brushed my waist, his kiss came quickly and confidently. My thoughts blurred, heat rushing through me in a way that felt unnatural.

I remember wanting more without knowing why.

Then I couldn’t see clearly.

I woke up to sunlight and confusion.

The room was unfamiliar, my head throbbed, and my thoughts felt heavy and slow. For a moment, panic surged then I saw Elio’s arm around me.

My chest tightened.

This wasn’t what I expected.

Fragments of memory floated back, incomplete, like pieces from someone else’s dream. I sat up too quickly, dizzy, my heart racing.

My phone buzzed.

Ava.

I answered.

“Relax,” she said lightly, “i told your mom you slept at my place.”

The words sank deep.

Something inside me whispered that this wasn’t right that comfort shouldn’t come wrapped in secrets.

But my sense seems long been buried