Breaking point

Tessa's sobs filled the room like a broken melody, each cry ripping through the air and clawing at my chest. She wasn't just crying—she was unraveling. Her body trembled, her fingers dug into the fabric of her hospital gown, and she let it all out. The weight of her pain, the exhaustion of trying to be strong, the sheer agony of feeling like she had failed—it all poured out like an endless storm.

And I just stood there. Watching. Helpless.

She was the kind of girl who always had a spark, who walked into a room and somehow made it her own. She had dreams that outshined reality, belief that refused to waver, and a heart too stubborn to break. But right now…

Right now, she was breaking.

I had always thought she had it all—like some untouchable princess who never had to fight for anything. But that wasn't true, was it? The truth was in every tear she shed, in every sharp breath she took. The truth was that she had fought harder than I ever had to. That she had earned everything she had, only for it to be ripped away when her family went broke.

Medicine. That was all she ever wanted. To finally be a daughter her father was proud of, that she doesnt just answer the name Sawyer she actually is a Sawyer And just when she had i— she lost it.

She had held onto hope, believing NDU would be her second chance, but the carryovers crushed that hope. And now, the fear of yet another one was suffocating her.

I swallowed hard, my hands clenching into fists.

I was the first one to mock her for it. I was the one who threw her failure in her face. The memory of my own words burned through me.

" When I heard you had a carry-over I taught is she dum"

I had thought it was a joke—something light, something harmless. But now, seeing this… seeing how much it haunted her…

I deserved that silent treatment.

Hell, I deserved worse.

And yet, what could I do now? How could I fix this?

I couldn't tell her it would be okay—because right now, it wasn't. I couldn't take back what I said—because it was already carved into her pain. I couldn't even hold her, couldn't even whisper that it would pass, because I wasn't sure if she'd even want to hear it from me.

So I did the only thing I could.

I stayed.

I let her cry. I let her scream. I let her fall apart without stopping her, without telling her to be strong. Because maybe—just maybe—she needed this.

And then, finally, when the exhaustion weighed too heavily on her shoulders, when her sobs turned into quiet sniffles, I helped her back to her room.

She still wouldn't look at me.

Wouldn't speak.

And I let her have that, too.

But later, when I sat beside her bed, when the moon was high in the sky and Joshua was already asleep on the sofa, I tried again.

"Tessa," I said softly. "It's okay."

Her fingers curled around the blanket, her shoulders shaking again.

"No, it's not," she whispered.

I exhaled, leaning forward. "You can take the test again. You can do better next time."

She shook her head. "You don't get it."

"Then help me get it."

She let out a shaky breath, finally turning her face toward me. Her eyes were swollen, red, exhausted. And then, before I could say anything else, the tears started again.

Damn it.

I hated seeing her like this.

But I let her cry. Again.

Typical Tessa.

She wasn't the type to bottle things up forever. She'd hold on, hold on, hold on—until she simply couldn't anymore. Until she broke under the pressure.

And I… I had been part of that pressure.

I had pushed her without knowing.

I had been blind to her struggles.

So I sat there, letting her soak my sleeve with tears, rubbing slow circles on her back like an idiot who didn't know what else to do.

When she finally calmed down, I sighed. "I'm sorry, Tessa."

For once, she didn't ignore me. She just wiped her nose and muttered, "You should be."

I huffed out a laugh. "I am."

Then, as if the weight had finally lifted, Joshua stirred from the sofa, stretching with a yawn.

"Oh, she's done crying?" he teased, smirking. "Tessa, you were so loud in that XR room I thought they'd throw us all out."

For a second, there was silence.

And then—

A small, tired chuckle escaped Tessa's lips.

Then another.

And another.

And just like that, the pain faded into laughter.

Maybe, just maybe, we'd be okay after all.

---

The laughter lingered in the air, soft and warm, as if it could chase away the exhaustion of the past few hours. Tessa wiped her eyes, a small smile still playing on her lips as she shook her head at Joshua's ridiculous jokes.

Daræy stood up, stretching his arms. "Alright, I'll go get us some ice cream."

Just as he reached the door, Tessa called out in Korean, her voice light and teasing.

"Yeah, Daræy, my friend, get me strawberry and vanilla, please."

"야, 다래야, 내 친구야, 딸기랑 바닐라 좀 사다 줘."

"Ya, Daræya, nae chinguya, ttalgi-rang banilla jom sada jwo."

Daræy turned his head slightly and smirked. "Alright, my friend."

"알았어, 내 친구."

"Arasseo, nae chingu."

He disappeared through the door, leaving the room filled with a sense of calm that hadn't been there before.

---

The next few hours passed in a blur of ice cream, jokes, and stolen moments of peace. But soon, it was time to leave.

They packed their bags, feeling the weight of reality settle back in as they prepared to return to Amasoma. The sky was dark, heavy with rain, and by the time they arrived home, the downpour had only grown stronger.

Tessa barely had time to step inside before the noise started.

The girls swarmed her, their voices overlapping, questions firing from every direction.

"What happened?"

"How did you faint?"

"Are you okay now?"

Daræy, standing near the doorway, crossed his arms. "hey, come on guy calm down, firstly ,Has this ever happened before?"

Light hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "I guess? Tessa always complained at night about feeling clustered whenever we slept together, but we never actually saw it happen. It always happened at night, and she always handled it."

Tessa sighed, running a hand down her face. "Okay, enough about me. Stop talking about this—this question of phobia or whatever. It's getting on my nerves."

The room fell silent for a second. Then Light, being Light, opened her mouth.

" You always like going to yentown now see what happened, stay in Amasoma with us...no "

Before anyone could react, Daræy moved so fast it was like lightning struck the room. His hand twitched at his side, his expression unreadable, but there was something sharp in his eyes.

For a second, it almost looked like he was going to slap her.

The air turned thick, tense.

But he stopped himself hitting a girl is not really part of his programing.

"Do you even know what she's been through?" he said, his tone sharp enough to cut. "You have no idea, so keep your mouth shut. Not every time is for jokes. There are times you need to be serious, and this is one of them."

Light's face fell instantly, realization dawning on her. Her lips parted slightly, as if searching for a way to take it back.

Daræy exhaled and rubbed his temples. "Today hasn't really gone well for me," he muttered. "I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

The room softened slightly. Light nodded, accepting the apology without another word.

To make up for the tension, Daræy made sure to buy food for everyone—shawarma, rice, and drinks. He even got Light her favorite rice and an extra shawarma as an apology.

And somehow, just like that, the mood shifted again. Laughter bubbled back up, conversations started flowing, and the warmth of their friendship filled the room once more.

Then, just as they were settling in, Justin came bursting in like a madman, out of breath, his eyes wide.

"What the hell happened?!" he demanded. "Did—had Tessa seen—"

He was asking so many questions at once that no one even knew how to answer.

And then—

They all just burst into laughter.

Justin stood there, looking completely lost. "What? What's funny?"

Between fits of giggles, William clapped him on the back. "Relax, man. Sit down. We'll tell you everything."

As the rain continued to pour outside, the warmth inside the room never faded.

Tessa wasn't okay. Not yet. But at least, in this moment, surrounded by the people who cared about her, she didn't feel as alone.