Page 177 of Scattered Glitter

Never fucking strong enough.

It haunted me all night, the thoughts tangling into a knot I couldn’t unravel. Was I even worthy of being her friend if I couldn’t show up for her the way she might need? If every step forward felt like a betrayal of the girl I’d already failed?

Because thinking about Glitter this much feels like treachery. Like I’m leaving the memory ofherbehind, the girl whose laugh still echoes in the quieter corners of my mind, whose smile still haunts my every step. And yet, Glitter is impossible to ignore. She doesn’t just take up space in my head, she floods it, relentless and unapologetic, like she’s dared me to forget.

And maybe that’s the real betrayal. That part of me wants to let go of the past and grab hold of something or someone who makes me feel alive again. But how the hell do I reconcile that with the guilt that’s become second nature?

Now, I’m here again. Standing in front of the damn door. This time, though, I’m not just debating whether I deserve to be her friend. I’m wondering if I can ever be enough for anyone, even myself.

“What are you doing?” Koen’s voice startles me, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glance over my shoulder to find him standing in the hallway, his sharp gaze soft with concern. He steps closer, leaning against the wall, giving me space but making it clear he’s not leaving.

I swallow hard. “I… I want to go outside.”

Koen’s eyebrows lift slightly, and he nods as if he’s been waiting for this. “But you can’t,” he finishes for me.

“No.” My voice cracks, and I grip the door handle tighter as though sheer force will anchor me.

He doesn’t push, doesn’t press. Instead, he folds hisarms across his chest. “Breathe, Ric. Just breathe in through your nose. Count to four. Hold it. Then out.”

I follow his instructions, shaky at first, but the steady rhythm of his voice helps. The air doesn’t feel quite as thin anymore.

“Better?” he asks after a moment.

“Not really.” I force out a bitter laugh, but there’s no edge to it. Just exhaustion.

Koen steps closer, close enough that I can feel his presence at my side. “Open the door. Just a little. You don’t have to go through it. Just open it.”

My fingers tighten on the handle, the cold metal biting into my palm as if daring me to let go. Slowly, I twist it, and the door creaks open, an inch at first, and my breath hitches as warm sunlight spills through the crack, pooling on the floor like molten gold.

“See?” Koen says softly with a tone that grounds me even as my anxiety claws at my chest. “Nothing’s happening. It’s just a door.”

But it’s not just a door. It’s a threshold, a line I haven’t crossed in what feels like forever.

Jinx weaves between my legs, brushing her fur against my calves as if she knows exactly how close I am to falling apart. She looks up at me, then pads forward, settling herself just in the sliver of sunlight now creeping across the threshold. Her tail flicks once, lazily, before she stretches out and closes her eyes.

I huff a quiet laugh. “Traitor,” I mutter, but my hand loosens slightly on the door handle. If she can sit there like it’s no big deal, maybe I can do this.

The sunlight stretches farther as I nudge the door open another inch, then another. The air changes, no longer stagnant and heavy like inside but fresh, carrying with it the faint scent of warmth. It’s just air and sunlight. But to me, itfeels like standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into a void.

“You’re doing good.” Koen doesn’t push, doesn’t rush. He’s just there.

My hand trembles as I pull the door a bit wider. It’s open enough now that I can see the driveway, the edges of the mansion’s path bathed in light. My panic rises, but I grip the handle harder, willing myself to hold on.

The sunlight is foreign, too bright, too open. It’s as though stepping outside would strip away my last layer of protection, leaving me raw and vulnerable.

And then Koen moves.

He steps forward, crossing the threshold like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The sunlight catches the edges of his hair, making it glint like gold as he turns back to me, his expression patient. “Your turn.”

I want to, but it’s as if my feet are glued to the floor, my body waging a war between the instinct to retreat and the desperate desire to follow him.

“You don’t have to go far,” Koen adds, his voice coaxing. “Just one step. That’s all. Just enough to feel it.”

My heart hammers against my ribs, the fear screaming at me to slam the door shut and run back upstairs. But there’s something in Koen’s gaze, in the quiet confidence he radiates, that keeps me rooted in place.

I take a shaky breath and force my foot forward. The moment my shoe hits the sunlight, warmth floods over me, and I freeze, my body locking up like I’ve just stepped onto a live wire.

“Good.” Koen praises. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

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