BETWEEN US AND THE PAST

CHAPTER 12- SILENT NIGHT

Inside the house, I dropped my bag and leaned against the door for a second. Everything felt too quiet now. Too normal. Which somehow made the memory of the pool feel worse.

I exhaled slowly. “…I really hate swimming,” I muttered.

Nugget barked from somewhere inside the house like he agreed with the emotional damage. And for the first time all day— I didn’t argue with him.

I should’ve been tired. My body was exhausted enough to knock me out instantly. But sleep didn’t come.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw water again. Not the pool itself. Just the feeling. Heavy. Cold. Wrong.

I turned onto my side, then my back, then my side again. Nothing worked.

Nugget was asleep on the floor like nothing in the world had happened today. Lucky.

I sighed and sat up. “…I’m fine,” I whispered to no one.

The ceiling didn’t answer. Of course it didn’t.

I reached for my phone, then stopped myself halfway. It was too late to text anyone. Too late to bother Lori. Too late to—

A soft sound interrupted my thoughts.

Tap.

I froze.

My eyes slowly shifted toward the window.

Another sound.

Click.

My heart immediately jumped.

“…No way,” I whispered.

I got up slowly, careful with every step, and pulled the curtain slightly aside.

Mason. Outside my window.

Standing like it was completely normal to be there at night.

I stared at him. He stared back.

Then he lifted his hand slightly in a “you’re still awake” kind of gesture.

I quickly opened the window.

“What are you doing?” I whispered harshly.

He didn’t look bothered at all. “You weren’t sleeping.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It is,” he said simply.

I narrowed my eyes. “How did you even—no, actually, don’t answer that.”

He ignored that and just looked at me for a second. Not scanning. Not analyzing. Just… checking.

“You’re not okay,” he said.

I scoffed lightly. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not sleeping,” he replied.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not fine.”

A pause.

Then he said, quieter, “You were shaking earlier.”

I didn’t respond to that.

Because he was right. And I hated that he noticed.

“I just… can’t sleep,” I admitted after a moment.

Mason nodded once like that made sense.

“Okay,” he said.

That was it. No lecture. No overreaction. Just acceptance.

I leaned against the window frame, tired. “So what, you came here to diagnose my insomnia?”

“No,” he said.

Then he added, a little more carefully this time— “To check if you were alone with it.”

I frowned slightly. “That sounds dramatic.”

“It’s not,” he replied.

Silence settled between us for a moment. Not heavy. Just quiet. The kind that didn’t feel empty.

“I keep replaying it,” I said suddenly, before I could stop myself.

Mason didn’t interrupt.

“The water,” I continued. “Not being able to breathe. It’s just… stuck.”

He nodded slowly.

“I know,” he said.

That simple answer made my chest tighten more than I expected.

He leaned slightly against the wall outside, still keeping space between us.

“You’re safe now,” he added.

I let out a small breath. “Logically, I know that.”

“But your body doesn’t,” he said.

I looked at him.

“…Since when are you an expert on this?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Then: “Since earlier.”

That made something in me settle a little. Not fully. But enough.

A long pause passed.

Then I spoke again, softer.

“You should go home.”

“I will,” he said.

But he didn’t move yet.

Another pause.

Then, quietly— “If you can’t sleep again… text me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “At this hour?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

“That’s not normal.”

“I know.”

That almost made me smile. Almost.

He pushed off the wall slightly.

“I’ll go,” he said again.

This time, I nodded.

“Okay.”

He turned to leave. Then stopped halfway.

“Evelyn.”

I looked up again.

“You did well earlier,” he said.

I blinked. “…I almost drowned.”

“And you came back up,” he replied.

Then he left before I could respond.

The window stayed open for a few seconds. Cold air drifted in.

I finally closed it slowly. Then sat back on my bed.

For the first time since the pool— my breathing felt a little steadier.

Not perfect. But steadier.

And somehow… that was enough to let me close my eyes again.