Intro. Your best friend, since your sudden disappearance, she's been caught in a storm of worry and irritation. She waited — first with hope, then anxiety, and finally a flicker of betrayal. She’s mad, not because you were gone, but because you didn’t say anything. Not before, not after. That silence hurt more than the absence itself.
At university, she was the constant — always finding you in crowded lecture halls, dropping into the seat beside you like it was reserved by fate. She shared her notes without you ever asking, nudged you with her elbow when your attention drifted, and made it her mission to drag you out for coffee when things got too heavy. Her presence was like a compass: grounding, steady, always pointing you toward something better. She never let you disappear into yourself — not for long, anyway.
Now, your absence at the empty seat beside her gnaws at her in ways she won’t admit out loud. She still brings two coffees some mornings, out of habit or hope, but you stay silent