Finding light in the darkest places—through love-Chapter 96 - 97 – How You’re Meant to Be

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Chapter 96 - 97 – How You’re Meant to Be

The dining room was brighter than usual—lit not just by the chandelier above but by the bustling energy of relatives in their best outfits, the hum of overlapping conversations, and the unmistakable clatter of dishes as platters were passed around.

It was an extended family dinner. One of those "just because we're all in town" occasions that were never really casual. The kind that quietly assessed everyone's progress by the neatness of their clothes and the sharpness of their smiles.

Evelyn had been there for fifteen minutes, and already three different relatives had asked about her studies. Not out of true interest, but as a way to measure.

"Still doing that liberal arts thing, sweetheart?"

"Oh, psychology, right? So, what kind of job does that even lead to?"

"You should talk to your cousin Mark—he's got a real plan."

Mark. Of course.

Cousin Mark had arrived thirty minutes late in a blazer and leather shoes that clicked dramatically across the wooden floor. He made a beeline for the elders, shook hands like he was sealing contracts, and had already given a loud rundown of his recent internship at a consulting firm downtown.

Evelyn smiled politely when he caught her eye. He gave her a slight nod—as if they were competitors and he was acknowledging her as a decent rival, if not a threat.

It was exhausting.

She sat between her aunt and Mira at the long dining table, swirling her water as they passed along bowls of garlic green beans, glazed carrots, and roasted chicken. She wasn't sure whether it was the heavy seasoning or the heavier comments that made her stomach clench.

Her aunt turned to her at one point, napkin in her lap and wine in hand. "So Evelyn, your mom said you've been helping out in some counseling center?"

"Just part-time volunteering," Evelyn replied. "It's part of a practicum I might use for credit later."

"That's very sweet," her aunt said, with the kind of tone that praised kindness but not ambition. "Though I always thought you'd do something with your drawing. You used to be so creative."

"I still draw," Evelyn replied, gently. "I just don't post it anywhere these days."

"Oh. Well. Don't let that go, okay? You don't want to lose the things that make you...you."

Evelyn smiled tightly. The implication, though not malicious, landed with a sting.

She turned to Mira for rescue. Her cousin met her eyes and offered a sympathetic smile. But she said nothing.

The Bathroom Break

Evelyn excused herself from the table not long after dessert. The house was too warm, the conversations too layered. She slipped into the bathroom and closed the door softly behind her.

The light overhead flickered slightly—familiar, in a nostalgic way. She sat on the closed toilet lid, hands folded in her lap.

In the mirror, she could still see her mother's jewelry on her collarbones—simple gold hoops she'd borrowed and been complimented on. They made her look more grown-up, apparently. More put together.

But inside, she felt like a kid again. A kid who was being offered smiles and expectations wrapped in ribbons, as if they should feel like gifts.

She pulled out her phone without thinking.

Evelyn: How do you stay grounded when people try to squeeze you into boxes you've already outgrown?

She stared at it for a second, thumb hovering over the send button. Then she added:

Evelyn: Sorry. Weird question. I'm just in the bathroom at a family dinner trying not to sink into the floor.

She hit send.

Less than a minute passed.

Adrian:

You don't sound weird. You sound like someone who's in a room full of people measuring things that don't actually matter.

Evelyn:

They make me feel like I'm not enough. Or like I'm not becoming enough fast enough.

Adrian:

You don't have to prove your growth to people who only see what they expect.

You're not unfinished just because they can't define you.

Her eyes prickled. She stared at the screen for a moment longer, the corner of her mouth lifting.

Evelyn:

You're a little too good at saying exactly what I need to hear. How do you do that?

Adrian:

Because I listen when you talk. And I like how you think.

Also, I'm rooting for you—whether you're at a dinner table or hiding in a bathroom.

She didn't reply immediately. Just held the phone in both hands and breathed.

Then:

Evelyn:

When I get back, can I call you tonight? I just... want to hear your voice for a while.

Adrian:

I'll be here.

Back to the Table

When Evelyn returned, the conversation had moved on to someone's wedding planning and someone else's recent trip abroad. Her mother glanced at her briefly, gave a tight smile. Evelyn returned it, but she was no longer trying to mold herself into the night.

She sat beside Mira, who leaned in with a quiet whisper. "You good?"

Evelyn nodded. "Better."

"You looked like you needed to teleport."

"I kind of did," she said with a soft laugh.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Evelyn stopped explaining her future and started asking other people about their present. She let the pressure dissolve—didn't absorb it this time.

She wasn't shrinking. Just choosing where to stand.

Later That Night

Back in her room, she curled up under the old quilt on the guest bed. Her earbuds were in. Adrian's voice filled her ears as he recounted something absurd his roommate had done earlier, and she giggled into her pillow.

"Tell me something good from tonight," he said gently.

"You," she whispered.

He went quiet for a second.

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"You're good for me too," he replied.

She closed her eyes.

And for the first time since coming home, she didn't feel like she had to brace herself for the next day.