The hidden pain

The days seemed to blur together for Emma in the weeks following their late-night conversations under the stars. The moments by the lake became her refuge—a space where the world around her didn't seem so heavy, where the silence felt like a language of its own.

Lily had a way of making everything feel light, even when the weight of the world seemed too much to bear. But Emma couldn't shake the feeling that there were things Lily wasn't saying, things that hovered just out of reach like the shadows beneath the water.

One evening, Emma was sitting near the edge of the lake, her sketchbook resting on her knees as she worked on a new drawing. The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn, and she saw Lily approaching, her long hair tousled from the wind.

"You're here early," Emma remarked with a small smile, though her eyes were still on her drawing.

Lily shrugged, sitting beside her with an ease that Emma had come to expect. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd catch you before you ran off again."

Emma's gaze flicked over to Lily. "I don't run off."

Lily smirked. "You might not think you do, but you're always running in one way or another."

Emma blinked. "I don't—"

"You do," Lily interrupted gently, her tone soft but firm. "You keep people at arm's length. Don't think I haven't noticed."

Emma felt the sting of truth in Lily's words. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat. Because Lily was right. She did run—if not physically, then emotionally. She had always distanced herself from anyone who could get too close. She wasn't used to people seeing her, really seeing her, and she didn't know how to let anyone in.

She stared down at her drawing, tracing the lines of a tree that seemed to have no roots.

"Do you ever feel like you're pretending?" Emma asked quietly.

Lily didn't immediately respond, and Emma wasn't sure if she had even heard the question. But then, after a long pause, Lily said, "Sometimes."

Emma looked at her, surprised. "Pretending? I mean, to be someone you're not?"

Lily met her eyes, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she nodded slowly. "I don't always feel like I can be myself here. Like there's this... this mask I have to wear just to make sure I don't get hurt."

Emma's heart squeezed in her chest. She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected Lily, of all people, to admit something so raw.

"Does it hurt?" Emma asked, her voice small.

Lily turned her head toward the water, her eyes distant. "All the time."

There was a weight to the words, an honesty that Emma hadn't anticipated. For a moment, neither of them spoke, and the world around them felt suspended, as though the quiet of the night had deepened with something unspoken between them.

"I'm sorry," Emma said after a long silence.

Lily's gaze softened, but there was a sadness in her eyes that Emma couldn't quite place. "It's not your fault."

Emma swallowed, fighting the lump in her throat. "But I don't understand. You're… you're so strong. Why don't you just—"

"Be myself?" Lily finished for her, turning to face Emma fully. Her lips curled up in a wry smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's not that simple."

Emma felt a pang in her chest. She wanted to say something comforting, something that would make the hurt in Lily's eyes go away. But she wasn't sure how.

"I've been trying to figure it out," Lily continued. "But it's hard. People have expectations. They see me, and they think they know who I am, what I'm supposed to be."

"And what's that?" Emma asked, her voice quiet.

Lily laughed softly, though it was tinged with something bitter. "I don't know. They expect me to fit into this tiny little box that's easy for them to understand. I can't be messy. I can't be complicated. I'm just supposed to smile and play the part. But it's exhausting, Emma. And sometimes, I just want to stop pretending."

Emma's heart ached. She reached out, placing a tentative hand on Lily's. It was a small gesture, but it felt like it held everything she didn't know how to say.

Lily looked down at their hands, her fingers instinctively intertwining with Emma's. The simple contact was enough to make Emma's pulse quicken. There was something powerful in that small touch, as if it was a silent promise—that no matter what, they didn't have to pretend around each other.

After a moment, Lily spoke again, her voice quieter this time. "Sometimes, I think if I let people see the real me, they won't like what they find. They won't understand. And maybe they'll stop looking at me the way they always have."

Emma squeezed her hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

Lily met her gaze, her eyes searching, as if looking for the truth in Emma's words. After a long moment, she nodded, though her expression remained guarded.

"You don't have to tell me everything all at once," Emma added softly. "But if you want to talk about it… I'm here."

Lily's lips parted, as if she wanted to say something more, but she didn't. Instead, she gave a small nod and fell silent again, her hand still resting in Emma's.

The night stretched on, the only sound the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the soft lapping of the water against the shore. Emma could feel the weight of Lily's words lingering in the air, but there was a sense of quiet comfort between them, an unspoken understanding that, for now, this was enough.

---

Later, as they walked back toward the town, the sky overhead was beginning to lighten, the first hints of dawn creeping across the horizon. The air was cooler now, and Emma pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders.

Lily walked beside her, their hands brushing occasionally, but neither of them seemed to mind.

"You're not like anyone I've ever met," Lily said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emma glanced at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Lily smiled, but this time it was softer, less guarded. "You don't push. You don't force me to talk. You just… listen. And sometimes, that's all I need."

Emma felt her heart swell at the simplicity of the words.

"I'm glad," she said, her voice steady.

Lily's smile deepened, and for the first time in a long while, Emma saw something in her eyes that wasn't just guarded—it was hopeful.

And Emma realized, in that moment, that maybe, just maybe, they were both exactly where they needed to be.