Reyansh texted first.
Not immediately.
Not impulsively.
After thinking about it far longer than necessary.
Reyansh:You were saying your work wasn't going well yesterday.
Anaya's phone buzzed.
She picked it up instantly.
"…finally."
She read the message twice.
Then typed—
Anaya:Wow. You disappeared and came back like nothing happened.
A pause.
Reyansh:I was busy.
She narrowed her eyes.
Anaya:Of course you were.
But she smiled anyway.
Something about him texting first—
Felt… relieving.
Anaya:Anyway, yeah. Work is still annoying.
Reyansh leaned back slightly in his chair, reading her reply.
Normal.
Casual.
No distance.
No awareness.
As if nothing had changed.
As if everything hadn't changed.
His fingers hovered over the screen.
Then—
Reyansh:You still get distracted easily?
A pause.
Anaya frowned slightly.
Anaya:"Still"?
There it was.
A small shift.
Reyansh's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…say something."
Anything.
A flicker.
Recognition.
Confusion.
Something.
But—
Anaya:I think I always did?
Always.
Not still.
His grip on the phone tightened slightly.
"…right."
Of course.
To her—
This wasn't a continuation.
It was just—
Present.
He exhaled slowly.
Then typed again.
Reyansh:You used to sit near the window, didn't you?
This time—
Anaya didn't reply immediately.
She stared at the message.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
A window.
Sunlight.
A desk—
A faint image flickered.
Then vanished.
"…what?"
She shook her head.
Anaya:What window?
The reply came.
Simple.
Unaware.
Final.
Something in Reyansh stilled.
That was it.
That was the answer.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen.
No hesitation.
No recognition.
No pause that meant anything.
Just confusion.
"…you really don't remember."
Across the city—
Anaya tilted her head slightly, still looking at the chat.
Anaya:Are you talking about school or something?
A beat.
Anaya:Because I don't think we've met before.
There it was.
Clear.
Direct.
Unintentional—
But absolute.
Reyansh closed his eyes briefly.
"…of course."
What else did he expect?
Years had passed.
People moved on.
And she—
She had forgotten him so completely that even standing in front of him—
Didn't mean anything.
He opened his eyes again.
The screen still glowing.
Her message still there.
I don't think we've met before.
A small, humorless smile touched his lips.
"…right."
He typed.
Stopped.
Deleted.
Then finally—
Reyansh:Yeah. Probably not.
Anaya blinked at the reply.
"…that was random."
But she didn't think too much about it.
Why would she?
To her—
This was just a conversation.
Nothing more.
She stretched slightly, relaxing back into her pillow.
Anaya:You're weird, you know that?
Across the screen—
Reyansh stared at the message.
Then locked his phone.
Silence.
Heavy.
Because now—
The question wasn't who she was.
He knew.
The question was—
What now?
Avoid her?
That would be easier.
Safer.
No expectations.
No reopening old wounds.
Or—
Tell her?
And say what?
Hey, you forgot me. We had something once.
It sounded absurd.
Unfair.
To both of them.
Or—
Try again.
Start over.
Like none of it had happened.
Like she wasn't the same girl who once—
"…Ana."
The name slipped out again.
Quieter this time.
Because she wasn't that girl anymore.
Not to him.
Not in this moment.
She was—
Anaya.
Someone new.
Someone who didn't carry their past.
Someone who didn't remember him.
And maybe—
That was the hardest part.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.
"…what am I supposed to do with this?"
Across the city—
Anaya stared at her phone again.
No reply.
She frowned.
"…he disappeared again?"
But this time—
Something felt different.
Not annoying.
Not confusing.
Just—
Unsettling.
Because for a moment—
That conversation hadn't felt light.
It had felt—
Heavy.
Like something important had just been said.
Or lost.
And she didn't even know what it was.
She shook her head quickly.
"No. Stop."
"This is exactly what happens when you read too much."
Simple explanation.
Safe explanation.
She picked up her book again.
Noir.R
But this time—
Even the words didn't feel like just fiction anymore.
They felt—
Close.
Too close.
And somewhere—
Between what was remembered and what was lost—
Something fragile had just shifted.
Without either of them fully understanding it.
Reyansh didn't text again.
Not that night.
Not the next morning.
Not at all.
It wasn't difficult.
That's what he told himself.
He had work.
Patients.
Schedules that didn't allow distractions.
And yet—
His phone stayed closer than usual.
Unconsciously.
Across the city—
Anaya checked her phone again.
Still nothing.
"…seriously?"
She sat up, frowning at the screen.
Yesterday's chat stared back at her.
Short.
Incomplete.
Yeah. Probably not.
She exhaled sharply.
"That was so random."
And then—
He just disappeared.
Again.
Her fingers hovered over the screen.
Should she text?
No.
Why should she?
He was the one acting weird.
She tossed her phone aside.
Then picked it up again ten seconds later.
"This is annoying."
Days passed.
Not many.
Just enough.
Enough for the silence to settle in.
Reyansh stayed consistent.
Professional.
Distant.
If she texted—
He replied.
But never first.
Never more than necessary.
Short replies.
Measured words.
Nothing like before.
Anaya:You always this busy?
A few minutes later—
Reyansh:Mostly.
She stared at the message.
"…that's it?"
Anaya:You used to talk more.
Seen.
Typing…
Stopped.
Then—
Reyansh:Not really.
Her brows pulled together.
"…what is wrong with him?"
Across the hospital—
Reyansh locked his phone.
He had seen her message.
Read it twice.
You used to talk more.
A humorless smile touched his lips.
"…not to you."
The thought came before he could stop it.
Because to her—
There was no "before."
No "used to."
Just now.
And now—
He was just someone she had recently met.
Nothing more.
Nothing that mattered.
So why should he act like it did?
He focused on his work.
On things that made sense.
On things that didn't blur the line between past and present.
But at night—
It got harder.
The silence felt louder.
The absence—
More noticeable.
Because he knew—
If he wanted to—
He could text.
Easily.
Continue the conversation.
Pretend nothing had changed.
But that felt—
Wrong.
Because everything had changed.
He just wasn't sure what to do with it.
Across her room—
Anaya lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling again.
"…he's definitely avoiding me."
There was no other explanation now.
And for some reason—
That bothered her more than it should.
"Why though?"
She replayed everything.
The café.
The conversation.
The texts.
That one line—
"Maybe I do."
Her chest tightened slightly.
"…what did he mean by that?"
She turned onto her side, grabbing her phone again.
Opened the chat.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
Then—
Anaya:Did I say something wrong?
She stared at the message.
For a long moment.
Then hit send.
Reyansh saw it almost immediately.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
The question was simple.
But the answer—
Wasn't.
No.
She hadn't said anything wrong.
That was the problem.
She had said everything normally.
Naturally.
Like none of it existed.
Like he didn't exist—
Before this.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Then typed.
Reyansh:No.
Sent.
That was it.
Anaya stared at the reply.
"…just 'no'?"
Her frustration faded slightly.
Replaced by something else.
Something quieter.
"…then why does it feel like I did?"
She didn't send that.
Just stared at the screen.
Because now—
This didn't feel like simple disinterest.
It felt like—
Distance.
Intentional.
She leaned back slowly.
"…you're confusing."
Across the city—
Reyansh stood by his window, looking out into the night.
His phone still in his hand.
The chat still open.
He could fix this.
Close the distance.
All it would take—
Was one message.
One normal reply.
And things would go back to how they were.
Light.
Easy.
But that version—
Didn't exist anymore.
Not for him.
Because now—
He knew who she was.
And she didn't know him at all.
"…that's not fair."
The words slipped out quietly.
Not accusing.
Not angry.
Just—
Honest.
Because how do you start over with someone—
Who was never new to you?
He looked down at his phone one last time.
At her name.
Anaya.
Not—
Ana.
His grip tightened slightly.
Then slowly—
He locked the screen.
Letting the silence stay.
Even if it hurt.