Chapter 24: The First Lesson
I wanna start building something that’s mine, not given. -Liana
Liana
Dr. Bailey handed me a flyer after our Tuesday session.
Plain paper. Blue ink. A logo I didn’t recognize.
“It’s an online tutoring platform,” she said. “Mostly for elementary ESL students.”
I stared at it.
“You understand English,” she continued. “You just need more practice with structure. You said you want to improve your english. Teaching is the best way to learn.”
I looked up. “I’ve never taught anyone.”
“You don’t need a degree,” she said. “Just patience. And clear instructions. You already do that with yourself.”
I didn’t know what to say.
She didn’t smile.
But her tone softened in that way she used sometimes. when she saw the panic flicker behind my eyes before I even knew it was there.
“You don’t have to decide now. Just… think about it.”
And she left it at that.
No push. No pressure.
Just the flyer in my hand.
That night, I went back to my room after dinner and pulled out my laptop, the one he bought me after we signed up for the class.
I typed in the platform name.
It didn’t look fancy. The layout was clean. Friendly. Soft colors.
Pictures of kids holding up worksheets, smiling through the blur of low-resolution webcams.
There were tutor profiles. Language levels. Time slots.
Parents posted requests for help.
“My daughter is 7, learning beginner English.”
“Looking for a patient tutor for my son, age 9.”
“Must be okay with shy students.”
Most sessions were online.
Some were voice-only. Others used video.
I hovered over the “Apply” button for a long time.
I’d never turned on my camera before. Never had the chance to use it.
But the more I looked through the listings, the more I saw… people.
People who looked harmless.
Kids who didn’t need a perfect tutor.
Just someone kind. Someone who listened. Someone who tried.
Could I be that?
I didn’t know.
But maybe I wanted to try.
Not because of the money.
Though Dr. Bailey had mentioned it.
“It’s not much,” she’d said, “but it’s something.”
She was right.
I had nothing. No job. No record. No income.
And that was fine. Elias never asked.
But I was tired of only needing.
Of always being the one who received.
What if—
Just once—
I could give something back?
I clicked on “Create Account.”
It asked for a name, an intro video, a preferred age group.
My hand hovered over the webcam icon.
I breathed in.
Then turned it on.
The screen blinked.
And there I was.
My hair tied back. A soft gray sweatshirt.
The background: the bookshelves Elias made for me.
I looked… small.
But not scared. Not entirely.
I hit record.
“Hi,” I said. My voice came out quieter than I expected.
“My name is Liana. I’m a tutor for beginner English. I can help with reading and pronunciation. I’m very patient.”
I paused.
“I used to be scared to speak English. Now I’m not. I want to help other people feel the same.”
I blinked.
Then smiled. Just a little.
“I hope to meet you soon.”
I stopped the recording. Watched it once. Didn’t hate it.
I uploaded it. Filled out the rest. Clicked submit.
Then sat back.
There was no explosion. No great rush of pride or fear.
Just the quiet.
And the thought: Maybe this is how it starts.
Not all at once. Not with applause. Just… a small click.
A whisper that said: You’re doing something.
Something that’s yours.
Chapter 25: Watchdog
I never saw myself as violent. but that second… I wanted to crush the smile on his face. -Elias
Elias
She was late.
Not by much.
Ten minutes, maybe twelve.
But enough.
I was standing in the kitchen, pretending to clean the counter.
Glancing at the clock. Then back at the hallway.
I told myself to wait.
Told myself she was fine.
But when minute thirteen hit, I pulled out my phone.
Opened the app.
The blue dot blinked.
Still at the bus stop.
Not moving.
I stared at the screen. Refreshed. Zoomed in.
Still there.
She never lingered that long.
Not without texting.
Not without something wrong.
My pulse climbed. Not fast. Not loud.
Just enough.
Like a low drumbeat building in the dark.
I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the map like it owed me an answer.
Ten more minutes passed before the dot finally moved.
Slow.
Then steady.
Toward home.
I should’ve relaxed.
I didn’t.
I walked over to the window near the front door.
Pulled the curtain just enough to see the street.
Waited.
And then, there they were.
Two figures walking side by side.
Liana.
And some kid.
No, some guy.
Her age. Maybe a few inches taller. Athletic build. Big smile.
He was carrying something.
A stack of books. Her books.
She had her hands free. Walking lightly. Not laughing, but listening.
Focused. Relaxed. Too relaxed.
My jaw locked.
I didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
Just watched as they reached the edge of the driveway.
He said something else. Animated.
Bouncing on his heels a little like a golden retriever in sneakers.
She didn’t laugh.
But her shoulders weren’t tight. Her hands weren’t clenched.
She looked… okay. With him.
I hated that.
Hated how fast my thoughts spun.
Who is he?
How long have they talked?
Did she ask for help?
Why didn’t she text me?
He passed her the books at the foot of the stairs.
Said something.
She nodded.
He waved, broad, cheerful, full of boyish confidence.
Then walked away.
Liana stood there for a second, staring at the books in her arms.
Then turned toward the house.
I let go of the curtain before she looked up.
Stepped away from the window like it had burned me.
Paced the living room once.
Then again.
I felt stupid. Paranoid. Possessive.
The kind of guy I never wanted to be.
She’s not mine.
She’s not mine.
She’s not—
Why the hell was he smiling so much?
I could see it. The way he looked at her.
Too obvious. Too hopeful. And she had no clue.
Of course she didn’t.
She saw the best in people. Always did.
She probably thought he was just being nice. Helpful.
And maybe he was.
But I knew that look.
I’d worn it too many times in my life not to recognize it.
That kid liked her.
And I was losing my goddamn mind over it.
Not because she did anything wrong.
She didn’t.
But because I couldn’t stand the way she looked at him.
Not with affection.
Not even with interest.
But with ease.
Like she belonged in that moment.
And I wasn’t in it.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
Realized my hands were clenched.
Relaxed them. Breathed.
It didn’t help.
God, was I this messed up because I hadn’t gotten laid in months?
Longer?
Was this some sick combination of jealousy and withdrawal?
I wanted to laugh.
I didn’t.
She trusts me. Maybe too much.
And I didn’t want to break that. Not ever.
But watching her walk with someone else, even just for a few blocks.
Felt like watching my hands let go of something I never got to hold.
She stepped inside.
Books clutched tight. Hair a little windblown. Eyes calm.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry I’m late.”
I nodded.
Didn’t ask. Didn’t say anything about the guy.
She didn’t offer, either.
And that silence between us…
It said everything I didn’t want to hear.
Chapter 26: The Edge of Something
I should be happy that she didn’t need me anymore. Instead, it just hurt like hell. -Elias
It was a quiet Saturday morning.
Liana made toast. Elias brewed coffee.
They didn’t talk much. Just the usual, soft-footed rhythm of two people who shared a space long enough to not need words.
The sun came in from the east-facing windows, catching the curve of her cheek as she reached for the jam.
That’s when his phone rang.
He checked the screen.
Scott.
He answered without hesitation.
“You’re in town?” A pause. Then a small huff of amusement. “Sure. See you later, Scott.”
Liana didn’t look up. But she heard it.
Scott. The name hung like a thread in the air.
Elias slipped his phone into his pocket and returned to his coffee, avoiding her eyes.
He hadn’t seen Scott in months. Maybe longer.
She was convenient. No strings.
A phase he didn’t regret, but never thought about.
And lately… he’d been getting strange.
Too careful. Too coiled. Too close.
A drink wouldn’t hurt. He needed the outlet.
“I’m going out tonight,” he said casually. “You gonna be fine by yourself?”
Liana nodded. “Okay.”
That was it.
Until the doorbell rang at 3:17 p.m.
Elias glanced at the clock, then toward Liana, half-curled on the couch, watching some documentary with the volume low.
He opened the door.
There’s Scott.
Dark lipstick. Crop top. Tight jeans. Smug smile.
She leaned in before he could speak. “Hey, handsome. Thought I’d surprise you.”
He blinked. “We said tonight. At the bar.”
She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, but I got off work early. Figured, why not come by?”
Her hand slid up his chest, and she leaned in.
“Thought maybe we could get started early.”
Her lips were inches from his when he caught her wrist. Firm. Controlled.
“Not here,” he said.
“Why?” Her brows lifted. “You—”
That’s when she saw Liana.
The girl on the couch.
The one frozen in place, eyes wide, clearly in shock.
Scott’s gaze narrowed. Her tone changed.
“Well. Who’s this cute little thing?”
Liana stood. Too fast. Her legs shaky. Her throat tight.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t look at Elias.
Just walked quickly, too quickly, down the hall and shut her bedroom door.
She sat on the bed, arms wrapped around herself.
The woman at the door was beautiful.
Her lipstick matched her nails.
Her heels were higher than anything Liana had ever owned.
And her shirt… God, her chest was practically falling out of it.
She tried to steady her breath.
But her thoughts spiraled.
Who was she? Why was she at our house? Why did she try to kiss him?
And worse—
Why did it hurt?
It shouldn’t.
Elias wasn’t hers.
He never was.
He’s a grown man. Of course he dates. Of course he’s had women.
What kind of idiot am I?
She bit her lip hard, until the sting grounded her.
A knock came at the door.
“Liana?”
His voice. Quiet.
Too quiet.
“Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer.
Not right away.
She took three long breaths. Felt the air stretch her ribs.
Then opened the door.
Her eyes weren’t red enough to cry.
But they were red enough to break him.
“I think I should move out,” she said.
Elias stared. Like he’d heard her wrong.
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” she lied. “I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”
His expression darkened. “You want to move out?”
“I think it’s time.”
“You think you can just—what—get an apartment? Pay rent? Live all by yourself? You think you’re ready for that?”
She flinched.
He saw it. Hated himself for saying it.
His jaw locked. Hands curled.
He swallowed whatever else wanted to come out.
Then she looked up.
Maybe it’s the first time she’s ever been angry, or at least close to.
“You’re not my dad. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I know I’m not your dad. I never wanted to be.”
She took a deep breathe.
“I’ve been working,” she said. “Online teaching. For a few months now.”
Silence.
It hit him like a slap.
She’d been working?
And she hadn’t told him?
He didn’t even know where to begin.
When had that shift happened?
When had she started turning to someone else for advice?
When had she decided he didn’t need to know?
Of course, she had no obligation.
But still.
Still.
He felt something split, quiet and bitter, underneath his ribs.
That night, neither of them slept.
Liana lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
Elias sat in the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand he never drank from.
He wanted to drink, really.
But he needed to stay sober, at least when he’s with her.
They didn’t speak.
Didn’t knock.
And in the quiet between them…
Something changed.
Maybe not broken.
But not whole anymore.
Chapter 27: A Place Between
It’s really happening. -Liana
Three days passed.
Liana hadn’t brought it up again.
But the tension in the house hadn’t lifted. Not really.
They still ate breakfast together.
Still watched the same news channel.
Still passed each other in the hallway with the same soft “hey” and “morning.”
But something had shifted.
Not spoken.
Not repaired.
It sat between them like a locked door.
So when Elias mentioned it at work, it wasn’t intentional.
It just… came out.
They were sitting in the squad lounge, eating reheated burritos and pretending not to be exhausted.
“I think she’s serious,” Elias said, eyes fixed on his coffee. “About moving out.”
Luca blinked. “Liana?”
“Yeah.”
Alex, seated across from him polishing a spare vest, glanced up. “She say where?”
Elias shook his head. “She doesn’t have a plan. But she’s working. Teaching online. Quiet about it.”
Alex raised a brow. “She’s tougher than you give her credit for.”
“I know that,” Elias muttered.
“You just don’t like watching it,” Luca added, smirking.
Elias didn’t respond.
That’s when Alex spoke again. “Actually… might be perfect timing.”
Elias looked over.
“My roommate’s moving in with her boyfriend next month. Two-bedroom in Highland Park. Quiet street. Half-hour drive from here. Rent’s decent, and I’m barely home anyway.”
He stared.“You serious?”
“Why not? Liana knows me. She wouldn’t be alone. You’d still be close. And it’s not like I’m a raging party animal.”
Luca snorted. “You are worse than that”
Alex ignored him. “She’ll have her own space. But you won’t have to worry.”
It sounded too easy.
Which meant it was probably right.
That night, Elias found her in the kitchen, drying her hands.
She looked at him when he didn’t say anything right away.
He cleared his throat.“I talked to Alex.”
She blinked.
“She said her roommate’s moving out. It’s a quiet place. Half hour from here. You’d have your own room.”
Liana stood still. Silent.
He watched her carefully.
Waiting.
Her fingers curled slightly around the edge of the towel.
Then loosened.
She nodded.“Okay.”
He wasn’t sure if that meant she was ready or just willing.
“Alex is solid,” he added. “You already know that.”
Liana’s voice was quiet when she spoke.
“I like her.”
It slipped out before she could guard it.
A tiny, honest thing.
Elias nodded slowly.
“She’s one of the good ones.”
Liana didn’t say anything else.
But after he left the room, she stayed by the sink for a while.
Letting the warm steam from the water rise past her cheeks.
Her heart was still racing.
But not in the same way it had been.
She was scared.
Still scared.
Moving out meant changing everything.
But at least it wouldn’t be a stranger.
At least it wouldn’t be too far from him.
She didn’t cry.
Didn’t smile.
But she whispered to herself, under her breath:
“Maybe I can do this.”
And for once, she almost believed it.
Chapter 28: Boxes and Silence
It was my decision. Though I regretted it, more than anything. -Liana
Elias
The house felt quieter than usual.
Not silent.
Just… cautious.
Like it knew what was coming.
I carried the last box down the hallway, the one with her books.
The same ones I watched her stack and restack over the years.
I didn’t comment when she labeled it “miscellaneous” in her shaky handwriting.
Alex was already waiting by the front door.
Her car was idling outside.
“She’s almost ready,” I said.
Alex nodded. “You okay?”
I didn’t answer. Just tightened my grip on the box and walked past her.
We didn’t talk much.
Didn’t need to.
That made it worse.
Liana
I packed the last box, even though there was not much left to pack.
My room looked wrong.
Empty walls.
No clothes in the closet.
No books on the desk.
Just a mattress and the quiet.
I didn’t cry.
I had no right to cry. I was the one who said I wanted to leave.
Elias didn’t hover.
Didn’t question.
He just waited in the hall, keys in hand, like he was trying not to break a rule.
“I’m ready,” I said.
He just nodded.
The car ride to Alex’s place was short. Half an hour.
We didn’t play music. We didn’t talk.
Alex drove. Elias sat in the passenger seat.
I sat in the back, watching the buildings blur past.
I kept thinking:
I can still say I changed my mind.
I can still go back.
He’ll let me.
But I didn’t say anything.
When we got there, Alex showed me the room.
It was small, cozy, neat. A desk by the window. Neutral walls. A soft rug.
Elias set the box down and stepped back.
He didn’t walk further in.
Alex gave me a little smile. “I’ll let you two talk.”
She left.
And then it was just us.
Me, standing in the middle of a new room.
Him, at the edge of the doorway, like a guest in my life.
“You have everything?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I labeled your medications. They’re in the bathroom cabinet.”
“I know.”
Silence.
I waited for him to say something. Anything.
He didn’t.
And neither did I.
“I should get back,” he said finally. “Let you settle in.”
I nodded again.
He didn’t hug me.
He didn’t reach out.
He just stood there.
Then:
“If you need anything—”
“I know,” I said quickly. “I will.”
He looked at me for one long second.
Then left.
I stood at the window after he drove away.
Watched the truck disappear down the street.
And only then did I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
My hands were shaking.
Alex walked by the door with two mugs in her hands.
She didn’t say anything. Just left one on the table near me.
“Chamomile,” she said. “No pressure.”
She walked away.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
Held the cup in both hands.
And whispered, to no one:
“Why does doing the right thing feel so wrong?”
Elias
Back at the house, I left the door unlocked.
Stared at the room she used to be in.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
It had been quiet before, but not like this.
Her door was open.
The bookshelf was empty.
The blanket on her chair still smelled like lavender.
I didn’t close the door.
Just stood there, staring into the empty room.
Then I sat in the kitchen.
Two plates on the kitchen island, out of habit.
And one chair that was empty.
Maybe always would be.
What have I done?
