Chapter 4 Everything Breaks at Once
POV: Valeria Cruz
The walk home feels longer than usual.
It’s not.
I’ve taken this same route a hundred times.
Same streets. Same corners. Same quiet stretch where the streetlights flicker just enough to make everything feel slightly off.
But tonight—
everything feels different.
Every step is heavier.
Every sound sharper.
Every thought louder.
I keep replaying it.
Not the party.
Not the music.
Him.
Her.
The kiss.
The way he looked at her like it wasn’t new.
Like it wasn’t something he had to think about.
Like it was easy.
And the way he looked at me after—
like I was the problem for reacting.
My jaw tightens.
Because that’s the part that sticks.
Not just what he did.
How easily he dismissed it.
It wasn’t serious.
The words echo in my head like they’re trying to settle into something permanent.
Not serious.
Then what was I?
A placeholder?
Convenient?
Temporary?
I laugh under my breath.
Short. Bitter.
Because I should have seen it.
There were signs.
The way he never held my hand in front of his friends.
The way he always changed the subject when people asked about us.
The way everything between us felt… quiet.
Like something meant to stay hidden.
I told myself it didn’t matter.
That I didn’t need the attention.
That I didn’t need the labels.
That what we had was enough.
But now—
I see it for what it was.
Easy for him.
Never real for me.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, pulling it tighter around myself as a breeze cuts through the street.
The night is quiet.
Too quiet.
Like the world didn’t just shift under my feet.
Like everything is still exactly the same.
But it’s not.
Nothing is.
I stop at the corner before my street.
Not because I need to.
Because I don’t feel ready to go home.
Not like this.
Not with everything still sitting this close to the surface.
Because once I walk through that door—
I don’t get to feel like this anymore.
I don’t get to fall apart.
I don’t get to process.
I become something else.
Something steady.
Something controlled.
Something my siblings can rely on.
I close my eyes for a second.
Take a slow breath.
Then another.
Let it settle.
Let it shift.
Because I don’t have a choice.
I turn onto my street.
The house looks the same as always.
Small.
Quiet.
Lights on in the living room.
Nothing out of place.
Nothing warning.
But I know better.
I push the door open carefully.
The smell hits first.
Alcohol.
Strong.
Familiar.
My chest tightens slightly.
“Valeria?”
My sister’s voice.
Soft.
Careful.
I step inside fully.
She’s sitting on the couch, legs tucked under her, eyes wide like she’s been waiting.
My brother is at the table, pretending to focus on something in front of him that I know he hasn’t looked at in the last ten minutes.
They both look up at me.
At the same time.
Checking.
Always checking.
“I’m fine,” I say.
The words come out automatically.
Too fast.
But they nod anyway.
Because they trust me.
Because they need to.
“Did you eat?” I ask.
My sister shakes her head slightly.
“I made something earlier,” my brother says quickly. “We’re good.”
I nod.
“Okay.”
I drop my bag by the door.
Move into the kitchen.
Open the fridge.
Mostly empty.
Of course.
I stare at it for a second longer than I should.
Then close it.
“I’ll go to the store tomorrow,” I say.
Neither of them argues.
They never do.
Because they know how this works.
Because they know I’ll figure it out.
I always do.
“Go to bed,” I tell them gently.
My sister hesitates.
Then stands.
My brother follows.
They pass me quietly, heading down the hall.
“Goodnight,” she says.
“Goodnight.”
Their doors close softly.
And just like that—
the house is quiet again.
I lean back against the counter.
Let my head fall slightly.
For a second—
I let myself feel it.
Everything.
The betrayal.
The embarrassment.
The anger.
The part of me that still wants to understand why.
The part of me that knows it doesn’t matter.
Because no answer would fix it.
No explanation would make it smaller.
And maybe—
that’s the hardest part.
Accepting that some things don’t get closure.
They just end.
I push off the counter.
Walk to my room.
Close the door behind me.
And sit on the edge of my bed.
The silence feels different in here.
Heavier.
Like it’s waiting.
I pull my phone out.
Stare at the screen.
No messages from him.
Of course not.
Why would there be?
I scroll anyway.
Past nothing.
Past everything.
Until I stop.
A name.
Rafe.
I didn’t even realize he saved his number in my phone.
Or when.
Or how.
But it’s there.
And for a second—
I just look at it.
Because tonight—
he was the only thing that didn’t feel fake.
The only moment that didn’t feel like it was built on something that could disappear the second I looked too closely.
I lock my phone.
Set it down.
Because I don’t know what to do with that yet.
I lie back slowly.
Staring at the ceiling.
Letting everything settle into something quieter.
Because I don’t have answers.
I don’t have a plan.
I don’t even have the energy to pretend I do.
But I do have one thing.
Clarity.
Painful.
Sharp.
But real.
Jason wasn’t mine.
Camila was never who I thought she was.
And whatever I thought my life was—
it’s not that anymore.
I close my eyes.
Not to sleep.
Just to stop thinking for a second.
Because tomorrow—
I have to get up.
Go to school.
Act like I’m fine.
And figure out what comes next.
But tonight—
everything finally broke.
And maybe—
that’s the only way something real can start.
