HER Trauma
823 Words
Shay woke before the sun, Cairo’s arm still draped over her waist—heavy and warm. His breathing was even, steady—completely at peace.
She, on the other hand, lay wide-eyed in the pale morning light, staring at the ceiling and wondering how long it would take before this feeling of safety cracked open.
Because it always did.
She slipped out of his bed as quietly as she could, careful not to wake him. She pulled on her sweater and gathered her things in silence, heart thudding not from guilt—but fear.
Not of Cairo.
But of herself.
Of what she was starting to feel.
Of what she hadn’t told him.
By the time she stepped out into the crisp air, her phone buzzed.
Tasha: You alive? Blink twice if he destroyed you in a good way.
Shay exhaled a shaky laugh as she walked across campus, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
⸻
Classes dragged.
She kept spacing out during lectures, barely registering the words on the slides. Her notebook filled with half-finished sentences and idle doodles. Every time her mind slowed, old memories clawed their way to the surface. The ache of abandonment. The screaming matches at home. Her mother’s silent tears at the kitchen table.
Cairo made her feel safe. Desired. Respected.
But that terrified her more than anything.
Because if someone like him saw her cracks—the dark corners she never spoke about—
Would he still want her?
⸻
The day wore her down like sandpaper.
By the time she got back to her dorm, Shay collapsed onto her bed and stared at the ceiling, still in her jeans and hoodie. Her body was tired, sure—but what really weighed on her was the silence in her chest.
A silence that felt too familiar.
She picked up her phone, thumb hovering over Cairo’s name.
She wanted to talk to him—desperately.
But she didn’t want to be the girl who needed someone more than they needed her.
Not again.
Before she could decide, her phone buzzed.
Cairo: How was your day?
Shay stared at the screen, her stomach flipping.
Shay: Busy. Tired. You?
Cairo: Same. Been thinking about you.
Her chest squeezed.
Shay: Good thoughts, I hope.
Cairo: Always. Want to come over later?
She hesitated. Her fingers hovered.
Shay: I’ve got some work to catch up on tonight.
It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.
⸻
That night, curled up under her blanket with her laptop open and textbooks scattered around her, Shay found herself rereading the same line again and again.
She couldn’t focus.
Not on school.
Not on anything.
Not with her thoughts sliding toward memories she tried so hard to lock away.
The night her dad walked out.
The nights her mom screamed into the walls, knowing he wasn’t coming back.
The afternoons she spent crying in her closet because it was the only place she could breathe.
And then Cairo—showing up like someone who might actually stay.
She wasn’t ready for that.
⸻
The next morning, Shay tried to act normal when she saw him.
They crossed paths outside the psych building. Cairo’s face lit up when he saw her, but something in Shay’s chest clenched.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, stepping toward her.
Shay smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey.”
Cairo’s brow creased, reading the change in her instantly. “You okay?”
She nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Just tired.”
“You sure?” His hand hovered like he wanted to reach for her, but thought better of it.
“I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now.”
He didn’t press. But she saw the flicker of confusion in his eyes—maybe even disappointment.
That made her want to run and pull him into a hug and tell him everything. But she couldn’t.
Not yet.
“Call me later?” he asked gently.
“Yeah,” she lied.
⸻
Back in her dorm, Shay found Tasha on the couch eating cereal out of the box and decided to vent.
“Wow, so you just ghosted a man who is trying to worship you?” Tasha said, raising a brow.
Shay flopped beside her with a groan. “I kind of did.”
“You want him or nah?”
“I do. But it’s not that simple.”
“It never is,” Tasha said, popping a cereal loop into her mouth. “But you can’t keep pushing him away every time it gets real—especially when you’re asking him not to. He’s not the ones who left you. He’s trying to stay.”
Shay didn’t answer.
Because she wasn’t sure what scared her more—
The idea of losing Cairo.
Or the idea of letting him love the parts of her that still felt broken too.
- Writer
