I WISH I NEVER DID

Chapter Four: If You Really Care

The sun was beginning to set over the school courtyard. Orange spilled across the concrete like a secret that couldn’t stay hidden.

Eli sat on the old stone steps near the gym, arms resting on his knees, chin down.

Ruth walked past — earbuds in, backpack sliding off one shoulder — and paused when she saw him.

“Hey,” she said, pulling one earbud out. “You good?”

Eli looked up, half-smiling. “Just… thinking.”

Ruth didn’t move. “Thinking about her?”

He nodded, a little too quickly.

She exhaled and dropped her bag beside him. “Alright. Hit me with it.”

Eli chuckled. “You sure?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

So he told her.

About the park. The sketchbook. The train station. The way Lina made silence feel full instead of awkward. The way she’d looked at him when she said she used to come there with her dad. The way she gave him her art without flinching.

He told her about how he hadn’t felt like this in years.

How he didn’t know what it meant yet — but it felt real.

And Ruth didn’t interrupt.

Not once.

When he finished, he looked at her, almost shyly. “You think I’m being dumb?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then what?”

Ruth hesitated. “I think you’re being brave.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“But,” she added gently, “bravery doesn’t mean invincible. Just... be careful, okay?”

Eli nodded slowly, like he understood — and didn’t.

They sat in silence a while longer.

Later that night, Ruth lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

Eli’s words still in her head.

“She made silence feel full.”

“She gave me her art without flinching.”

She wanted to trust it.

Wanted to trust Lina.

But she’d seen too many people get close without staying.

She’d seen people like Lina before — beautiful, magnetic, half-there.

So she reached for her phone and typed slowly:

“Just a heads up — be careful. She’s not who you think she is.”

She didn’t send it right away.

She stared at the screen.

Then pressed send.

The next day after school, Ruth found Lina by the lockers, alone.

“Hey,” Ruth said, voice calm.

Lina turned, surprised. “Hey.”

“You got a second?”

Lina glanced at the clock. “Yeah.”

Ruth leaned against the wall. Not defensive. Not tense. Just... quiet.

“He talked to me yesterday,” she began.

Lina’s face gave nothing away.

“About you. About how he feels.”

Still no change.

“He cares. A lot. More than he even knows how to say.”

Lina looked down. Said nothing.

Ruth softened her voice. “I’m not here to accuse you. I’m here to ask you — gently — not to let him fall if you don’t plan on catching him.”

Lina looked up. Her eyes didn’t tear. They didn’t flare.

But something in her jaw tightened.

“I wasn’t playing him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I believe you,” Ruth said. “But caring a little still hurts someone who loves a lot.”

Silence.

Then Ruth pushed away from the wall. “If you’re not sure… be honest. Don’t wait until he’s halfway in the deep end before swimming away.”

She walked off without waiting for a reply.

And Lina stood still, heart sinking — because she wasn’t sure.

She thought she was.

She wanted to be.

But now...?

All she could think about was how easily things break when you try to hold them too tightly.

“I don’t know if I’ll be around.”

“Plans?”

“Maybe.”

It started small.

A missed walk after class.

A shorter reply than usual.

A smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Eli noticed — of course he did — but he told himself it was just a busy week. School pressure. Maybe she wasn’t sleeping well. Maybe she just needed space.

But something about Lina had changed.

Not dramatically. Not loudly.

Quietly.

Like she’d taken a step back… and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

By Thursday, he finally said something.

They were seated under the old school tree — the same spot where she once laughed so freely. Today, she just scrolled through her phone, barely looking at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Just tired.”

“You’ve been tired since Monday.”

Lina looked up, startled — not by the question, but by the fact that he noticed.

“I’ve just been… thinking,” she said.

“About what?”

She hesitated. “Stuff.”

Eli frowned. “Is it… me?”

“No,” she said too quickly. “It’s not that.”

But she didn’t meet his eyes when she said it.

He reached for her hand, just briefly — but she shifted, like she didn’t see it. Or pretended not to.

Something stung in his chest.

He let his hand fall back into his lap.

They sat there in silence for a moment, the kind that didn’t feel full anymore. The kind that echoed.

Then, trying to lighten it, he smiled. “So... wanna do the park again this weekend? I can bring snacks that aren’t totally sad this time.”

Lina gave a small smile, but it was dim.

He nodded.

Didn’t push.

Didn’t ask who. Or what.

Even though his stomach twisted.

He just said, “Cool. Just let me know.”

Lina stood first. “I gotta run.”

“Okay,” Eli replied.

She paused, like she wanted to say something else.

But she didn’t.

And then she was gone.

That night, he sat with his phone in his hand for a long time. No new messages. No missed calls.

He scrolled through their old texts — the silly ones, the deep ones, the late-night ones.

They used to talk like they couldn’t get enough of each other.

Now she was fading like smoke.

And Eli didn’t know what he’d done.

Or worse — if he’d ever had a real chance at all.

Lina stared at her reflection in the art room mirror — the one on the far wall where no one ever looked.

Her eyes didn’t look tired.

They looked lost.

She hadn’t spoken to Eli since Thursday. Not really. Not the way they used to. Not the way that made her feel safe and stupid and alive all at once.

She missed it.

She missed him.

But Ruth’s voice wouldn’t leave her head.

“If you’re not sure… don’t let him fall.”

“He doesn’t know how to half-feel anything.”

“Don’t stay if you’re not ready.”

She wasn’t ready.

She didn’t even know what being ready looked like.

All she knew was that someone — a girl who barely knew her — had looked her in the eye and seen right through her.

And Lina hated how much that truth burned.

That afternoon, Eli found her behind the art block, sitting cross-legged on the floor sketching nothing.

He sat beside her.

“I’ve been trying to give you space,” he said quietly. “But I feel like you’re slipping away.”

She kept her eyes on her blank page.

“I talked to Ruth,” she said, after a long silence.

Eli blinked. “You did?”

Lina finally looked up.

“She warned me. Told me you feel everything. Told me not to mess you up. That you deserve someone who’s all in.”

Eli’s throat tightened. “She had no right—”

“No,” Lina interrupted. “She’s probably right.”

He froze.

Lina forced a dry laugh. “I mean… I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time. I can’t promise anything. I don’t know what forever feels like. I don’t even know if I can be that person for anyone.”

“You don’t have to promise forever,” Eli said, voice low. “Just show up now.”

She looked at him.

And for a moment, she almost crumbled.

But then she said it — not because she wanted to, but because she thought it might save him:

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Eli blinked. “Wait. What?”

Lina stood up, sketchbook dangling from her hand. Her voice cracked, but she didn’t let it show.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I told you I’m not good at this.”

Eli stood too. “Lina, don’t do this. Don’t walk away just because someone else planted fear in your head.”

“It’s not fear,” she said, not even sure if it was true.

“It’s just me… not being enough.”

And with that, she walked away.

Not quickly.

Not dramatically.

Just… like she had no choice.

Eli stood in the same spot for minutes after she left.

He didn’t chase her.

Didn’t cry.

Didn’t call out.

He just whispered to himself,

“I wish I never told her how I felt.”

“I wish I never Did”

But deep down, he knew he’d do it all over again.

Even if it meant standing right here —

watching her walk away

with a piece of him in her hand.