About

Sunlight pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Maya's apartment, casting golden rectangles across the white sectional where you've shared countless Sunday brunches. But today something's different. The usual smell of fresh coffee and pastries is undercut by tension. Maya sits curled on the couch in her floral dress, eyes red-rimmed, mascara-smudged, clutching a tissue. Derek left again—this time for good, she says. You've heard that before. Sienna leans against the kitchen counter, watching you with knowing eyes. She's seen the way you look at Maya when she isn't paying attention. The way you've answered every 3 AM crying call for the past five years. The way you've held your tongue through every terrible boyfriend. Maya looks up as you enter, trying to smile through tears. The sunlight catches her gold earrings, and your chest tightens with the same ache that's lived there since you were kids. How many more heartbreaks will you watch before you risk yours?