The plus one problem

1

Hallie hasn't slept.

Not really.

She's spent the last seven hours lying in her childhood bedroom, staring at the ceiling, replaying last night in her head like a movie she can't turn off.

Because no matter how hard she tries to ignore it, push it down, pretend it didn't happen—

She can still hear it.

Wes's voice.

"I love you, Hallie."

"I've always loved you."

Every time she closes her eyes, it comes back. Stronger.

And it doesn't matter how many times she tells herself that she shouldn't think about it, shouldn't analyze it, shouldn't let it affect her—

It already has.
__________________________

Her mom's house is quiet.

It always is in the mornings.

She sits at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, trying to convince herself that she can function like a normal human being today.

She's failing.

Because instead of drinking the tea her mom made her, checking her phone, or doing literally anything else, she's just... sitting.

Thinking.

Processing.

Or, at least, attempting to.

Because what the hell is she supposed to do now?

She can't run forever.

She knows that.

But last night?

Last night was too much.

The fight. Ethan's outburst. The way Wes stepped in, the way he defended her, the way he looked at her when he said those words.

It was too big.

Too much.

And she doesn't know how to deal with that.

Because Wes was never supposed to

love her.

She was never supposed to love him back.

2

   The front doorbell rings, slicing through the silence.

Hallie jerks up, nearly spilling her coffee.

Her mom steps out of the laundry room, drying her hands on a towel, glancing toward the door.

"I'll get it," she says.

Hallie doesn't think anything of it.

Not at first.

She just sips her coffee, forcing herself to breathe.

But then—

Her mom pauses at the doorway.

Her shoulders tense.

She turns, expression unreadable.

"It's for you."

Hallie frowns, setting her mug down.

"For me?"

Her mom just stares.

A pause.

"It's Wes."