Anaya stopped texting first.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
Just—
Gradually.
The messages became fewer.
Shorter.
Less frequent.
Until one day—
She didn't send anything at all.
And neither did he.
It was easier that way.
That's what she told herself.
"He's a doctor," she muttered, placing her phone face-down on the table. "Of course he's busy."
That made sense.
It had to.
Because the alternative—
Didn't.
Nothing had gone wrong.
No argument.
No misunderstanding.
And yet—
Something had shifted.
Something she couldn't explain.
So instead—
She stopped trying.
Across the city—
Reyansh noticed.
Of course he did.
The silence had changed.
Before—
It felt like something waiting to be filled.
Now—
It felt… accepted.
Final.
His phone stayed quiet longer.
Longer than before.
And this time—
He didn't check it as often.
Not because he didn't want to.
But because—
"…what's the point?"
She wasn't reaching out.
And he had already decided—
He wouldn't either.
Not like this.
Not when it meant something only to him.
Days passed like that.
Parallel.
Close.
But not touching.
Until—
"Anaya, come sit."
Her mother's voice carried that same tone again.
The one she had learned to recognize.
Anaya paused mid-step.
"…why does this feel familiar?"
She walked into the living room slowly.
"Mumma, if this is another surprise—"
"Just sit."
That confirmed it.
Anaya sighed, dropping onto the couch.
"Okay. What is it?"
Her mother smiled.
Too calmly.
"We've been thinking," she began.
Anaya immediately narrowed her eyes.
"That's never a good start."
"We think you should meet Reyansh again."
Anaya blinked.
"…again?"
"Yes," her mother nodded. "Properly this time. Without distractions."
Anaya leaned back slightly.
"That sounds like a setup."
"It's not a setup," her mother replied. "It's just… a second meeting."
A pause.
"And?" Anaya asked slowly.
Her mother held her gaze.
"And if things feel right… we can move forward."
There it was.
Clear.
Direct.
Anaya's chest tightened slightly.
"…that fast?"
"We're not forcing anything," her mother said gently. "But you didn't say no."
That was true.
She hadn't.
Because she hadn't felt like saying no.
But now—
Something felt different.
Quieter.
Uncertain.
"…I don't even know what he's thinking," she muttered.
"What do you mean?"
"He's… inconsistent," Anaya said, frowning slightly. "One day normal, next day completely distant."
Her mother observed her carefully.
"And that bothers you?"
Anaya paused.
"…no."
A beat.
"…maybe a little."
Across the city—
"Reyansh."
His mother's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
He looked up from his laptop.
"Yes?"
"We need to talk."
That was never casual.
He closed the laptop slowly.
"About?"
She sat down across from him.
Calm.
Composed.
"Anaya."
His expression didn't change.
But something in his gaze sharpened.
"…what about her?"
"We spoke to her family," she continued. "They're open to moving forward."
Silence.
Just for a second.
But heavy.
"…moving forward?"
"Yes," she said simply. "If you both agree."
Agree.
The word lingered.
Because this wasn't just about families anymore.
Not for him.
He leaned back slightly, exhaling under his breath.
"…I see."
His mother watched him carefully.
"You don't sound surprised."
"I'm not."
That much was true.
Because somewhere—
He had expected this.
Eventually.
"What do you think?" she asked.
And that—
That was the real question.
What did he think?
That she didn't remember him.
That she talked to him like a stranger.
That whatever they had—
Existed only for him now.
Should he go ahead?
Pretend none of that mattered?
Start over?
Or walk away—
Before it got harder?
He ran a hand through his hair slowly.
"…I don't know."
And for once—
That was the most honest answer he had.
Across her room—
Anaya stared at her phone again.
Their chat.
Silent.
Her thumb hovered over it.
Then moved away.
"…it doesn't matter."
If he was busy—
Then he was busy.
If he wasn't—
Then that meant something else.
And she wasn't ready to think about that.
She leaned back, closing her eyes briefly.
"…second meeting, huh."
Her heart didn't race.
Didn't flutter.
Just—
Stayed quiet.
Like everything else.
But somewhere—
Beneath that silence—
Something waited.
Unresolved.
Unfinished.
And now—
It wasn't just about them anymore.
It was about a decision.
One that neither of them was ready to make.
Things Left Unsaid
The café was different this time.
Or maybe—
They were.
Anaya sat across from him, fingers loosely wrapped around her coffee cup.
Same place.
Same setup.
Nothing felt the same.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi."
Simple.
Neutral.
Like the space between them had been carefully measured.
For a moment—
Neither spoke.
Not because they didn't have anything to say.
But because—
There was too much.
Anaya cleared her throat lightly. "So… second meeting."
Reyansh nodded once. "Seems like it."
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
Polite.
Controlled.
"You've been busy," she said.
It wasn't a question.
He understood that.
"Yes."
A pause.
"That makes sense," she added quickly. "Your schedule must be hectic."
She said it easily.
Like she had already explained his absence to herself.
And accepted it.
Something in his chest tightened.
"…right."
Silence returned.
Short.
But heavier this time.
Anaya glanced around briefly, then back at him.
"You're quieter today."
"I usually am."
She tilted her head slightly.
"…not always."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Both of them paused.
Because that—
That sounded like something she shouldn't know.
Reyansh's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…not always?"
Anaya blinked, immediately looking away.
"I mean—" she let out a small breath, brushing it off, "I just meant… you weren't like this the first time."
A lie.
Not fully.
But not entirely true either.
Because something about that sentence—
Hadn't come from observation.
It had felt—
Remembered.
She frowned slightly.
"…why does that feel so familiar?"
Across from her—
Reyansh had noticed.
Of course he had.
That tiny pause.
That hesitation.
The way her voice had changed—
Just for a second.
Hope flickered.
Brief.
Unwanted.
"…say something," he thought.
But she didn't.
She moved on.
"So," Anaya said, straightening slightly, "what do you think about all this?"
He knew what she meant.
The meeting.
The arrangement.
Them.
Reyansh leaned back slightly, his gaze steady on her.
"What do you think?"
She hesitated.
Not because she didn't have an answer.
But because—
It didn't feel simple.
"I think…" she began slowly, "it's happening a little fast."
That was safe.
Honest.
And incomplete.
He nodded once.
"Fair."
Another pause.
Then—
"You don't remember things easily, do you?"
The question came out calm.
Measured.
But it landed heavier than intended.
Anaya froze.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the cup.
"…what?"
Reyansh didn't look away.
"You zone out," he continued. "You hesitate before answering sometimes. Like you're trying to recall something."
Her breath slowed.
A flicker—
A classroom.
A voice—
"You're not even paying attention."
She blinked.
The image disappeared instantly.
"I—" she shook her head lightly, forcing a small smile, "I think you're overanalyzing."
Deflection.
He saw right through it.
But didn't push.
Not yet.
"Maybe," he said quietly.
But his gaze didn't soften.
It stayed—
Focused.
Searching.