The days were starting to blur again—clinical rounds, case reports, lectures that stretched into late evenings. But for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was drowning. I was just swimming in deep water. Strong strokes, steady breath, head above the surface.
James had grown even more supportive since our talk. He never said too much, but his presence was constant. Late-night walks after study sessions, coffee runs at the crack of dawn, even showing up at my practical exams just to wish me luck. Still, no new confessions. No grand gestures. Just… quiet closeness.
And strangely, that was enough for now.
Sophie, on the other hand, had fully found her spark again. She was busier than ever—interviews, research projects, even organizing a charity gala for underfunded clinics. The Sophie who had once partied her way through freshman year was now this stunning, serious, radiant woman, and I couldn't have been prouder.
One evening, as I sat on my bed revising patient cases, she came bursting into the room, her face glowing like she'd won a Nobel Prize.
"I got the grant!" she shrieked, waving a sheet of paper in the air like a victory flag.
I leapt up from my books. "You did?! Sophie! That's amazing!"
She tackled me in a hug, laughing and nearly knocking over my medical textbook in the process.
"This means I can finally fund my research proposal on urban healthcare access. It's going to help real people, Charlotte."
"I never doubted you for a second," I said.
She pulled back and looked at me, all serious now. "I'm going to New York for part of it."
My heart stung just a little, but I smiled. "Then New York better be ready."
Sophie's success was something we had both worked for in our own ways. Her getting to rise didn't mean I was falling behind. I was learning to understand that now.
Later that night, James texted.
James:
Hey. Up for a walk?
I met him outside under the quiet hush of the moon. The campus was almost eerie at night, empty but alive with energy.
"Big day for Sophie," he said, as we strolled along the path that curved around the campus lake.
"Yeah," I said, tucking my hands in my jacket. "She deserves it."
"You know," James said after a long pause, "you're different now."
"Different how?"
"Confident. Brave. Not the quiet girl from high school. I mean… you're still her. But you've become more."
His words sank into me, warm and slow. "Thanks. I feel like I've grown."
"You have. We both have."
We stopped at the edge of the lake, where the moon shimmered like a silver coin tossed onto water.
"Sometimes I wonder what high school Charlotte would say if she saw us now," I murmured.
"She'd probably faint from shock," he teased.
I laughed. "Probably."
There was a silence that wasn't awkward—just full. Full of all the unspoken thoughts neither of us were ready to name. Not yet.
But I wasn't invisible anymore. Not to him. Not to anyone.
And that… that was enough for tonight.