Hot water ran down Amelia's back, slow and steady, as if trying to wash the day away. She closed her eyes, letting the steam fill the bathroom, and for a moment, everything felt suspended.
He's so sweet.
The café. Thomas's crooked smile. The sugary taste of the muffin. The conversation that seemed simple, but stirred places inside her she'd forgotten existed.
She smiled to herself, quiet, like someone holding onto a good secret.
After drying off, she slipped into an oversized t-shirt and walked to the living room. The apartment was silent, the late afternoon light slipping through the curtains. She dropped onto the couch, grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV without really watching.
It was just to fill the silence.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
She reached out, picked it up, and looked at the screen.
Rafa.
The message was short. Professional. But the effect was immediate.
Why now?
Her body stiffened. Her gaze grew distant. The couch, once a refuge, now felt too small.
She locked the screen and placed the phone face down.
On the TV, someone laughed. Someone fell in love. Someone lived a life that wasn't hers.
Amelia pulled the blanket over her legs, leaned her head back, and tried to hold onto what was left of her time with Thomas.
But it was already slipping.
She stayed there for a few minutes, unmoving, as if time had slowed just for her. The TV kept playing upbeat dialogue and cheerful music, but everything felt distant, like it was happening behind glass.
Wake up. It's not like anything's really going to change.
Amelia got up slowly, walked to the kitchen, and filled a glass of water. She drank in small sips, trying to reconnect with her body, with the now.
While the water heated for chamomile tea, she fiddled with her hair using a crooked clip, not really trying to fix anything. The kettle's whistle sounded too loud for the quiet of the house.
Her phone buzzed again.
She didn't look.
She left the glass in the sink, passed by the bookshelf, and paused in front of a picture frame turned face down. She thought about flipping it over, but left it as it was.
Back in the living room, she sat on the edge of the couch, as if she didn't want to settle in too much. She grabbed the remote and flipped through channels. A documentary about oceans. A cooking show. An old movie.
Nothing held her attention.
She tried watching a series, but the episode started with a couple arguing. Switched to a cooking competition, but the contestants were yelling too much. She turned off the TV and sat with only the sound of her phone buzzing now and then.
She picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and unlocked the screen.
Rafa: "Yesterday's video was a success. The team's still talking about it. You nailed it, as always."
She read it once. Then again. And then deleted the notification without replying.
The silence returned, but now it was a different kind of silence. Heavier. More clinical.
She walked to the bedroom and opened the closet. Her clothes were organized by category: casual, university, and… the others.
Amelia ran her fingers over a black lace piece, hung carefully. The texture was familiar. So was the weight.
The feeling of being stained resurfaced in her chest.
She closed the closet.
Sat on the bed.
And thought of Thomas.
The way he looked at her like she was still the same. Like she could just be Amelia.
It's just a brief dream before waking up…
I still have to keep working.
Even if her mind longed for the ordinary life she once had, nothing would change overnight.
And maybe going back wasn't even possible.
Her phone buzzed again.
Amelia bit the corner of her lip, her fingers tapping lightly on the table.
Each vibration made her glance at the screen, her heart tightening slightly with every notification — until she finally read the message.
But it was Thomas.
Thomas: "Just got home. Still laughing about the kale muffin. It was really good seeing you."
Her body relaxed a little. The tension in her shoulders eased. The room felt less tight.
She typed without overthinking.
Amelia: "It was really good seeing you too. You made me feel better."
She placed the phone beside her, this time without turning the screen face down.
And for the first time that night, she didn't want to run.
She looked at the phone again, the conversation still open.
She paused for a second, then typed:
Amelia: "Was work okay?"
The reply came quickly, like he already had the phone in hand.
Thomas: "A lot going on, but that's how I like it." "Better than sitting around thinking too much."
She smiled, quietly.
She thought about how he always had that calm way about him, like the world didn't press on him the same way it pressed on everyone else.
Amelia: "I get it. Thinking too much never really helps."
He replied with a laughing emoji and a "exactly."
The conversation wasn't deep. It didn't need to be.
Just knowing he was there, on the other side of the screen, made everything feel a little lighter.
Amelia: "Are you still hungry or did the kale muffin traumatize you forever?"
Thomas: "Traumatized. Thinking of suing the bakery." "But I had a slice of pizza when I got home. Balanced the karma."
Amelia: "Pizza cures almost everything." "Except maybe missing someone."
He took a little longer to reply this time.
Thomas: "Missing someone is harder."
"But today helped. You helped."
Amelia stared at the screen, her heart beating a little slower.
Amelia: "You too. It was good to remember that someone still knows the real me."
Thomas: "You're not easy to forget." "Even when you try to disappear."
She smiled. A smile that didn't need to be seen to be felt.
The corner of her mouth lifted naturally, and the tension she'd been holding in her shoulders since late afternoon began to ease. Her fingers typed slowly, almost dancing across the screen, while her heart beat softer, filled with a quiet curiosity.
She felt a warm glow rise in her chest, a mix of comfort and gentle joy. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget the rest of the world — the work, the pressure.
Just this.
Just now.