I couldn't stand being near him anymore. Every glance, every breath in his presence twisted my heart in a way that made it impossible to stay. So, I left—moved to a new town with my family, somewhere no one knew my name, my story, or the boy who shattered my heart. I traded Selene for Atasha. A fresh start. A new name for the girl trying to piece herself back together.
Even in a new city, even without him, I still loved him. Silently. Fiercely. Painfully. I ignored every call, every message, blocked every number. I even changed mine, because hearing from him hurt more than the silence ever could. I told myself that even if he never loved me back, even if I was just a passing moment in his story—I would still love him endlessly, quietly, and from afar.
I poured that love into my studies, chasing the dream of becoming a nurse. To feel useful. To heal. But the artist in me never left, so I took up fashion design on the side. I sketched my pain into gowns, stitched hope into fabric. Slowly, I started earning from it, and every penny went toward building the life I dreamed of. A life where I stood tall—alone, but strong.
Years passed. I graduated. I studied abroad. He became a businessman, just like I once heard he would. I wondered sometimes, in the quiet moments between classes or while sketching late at night, if he ever thought of me too. If he remembered the girl who used to blush when he smiled.
When I finally returned home, my family greeted me with warmth and teary eyes. After a few days of rest, I was invited to an exhibition to showcase my designs at the very place I once studied—the place he once studied, too.
And there he was.
Antonio.
Same eyes, same stare, but different somehow. More refined. More... everything. My heart didn't ask for permission before it skipped a beat. He walked toward me, and I almost forgot how to breathe.
"Selene," he said gently.
I flinched. At least he remembered.
"It's Atasha," I replied coldly, even though my heart whispered, I missed you.
"I missed you so much," he said, eyes locked with mine. "I know I hurt you. And I know you loved me."
I couldn't stop the words—they burst out before I could pull them back. "Loved you? I love you, Antonio. My heart never stopped. But I'm glad you found someone who made you happy."
He looked down for a moment. Then he spoke, softly but clearly. "I broke up with her the moment I found out you left town because of me. Because I realized... I loved you too. I was just too confused when my ex came back. I didn't know who I was supposed to choose."
My heart ached all over again. So I had been an option. A maybe. And yet, there was guilt in his eyes, the kind that can't be faked—the kind that only lives where love once bloomed.
I sighed and looked away. "I'm sorry too," I whispered. "For not staying, for not supporting you through the confusion. I ran away, thinking only of myself."
And there we were—two people who once broke each other, standing face-to-face after time and silence, wondering if love could still find a way to begin again.