The days after Sarah's betrayal felt heavy, like walking through fog.
Maya tried to drown her loneliness in books, in music, in long walks under the fading autumn sky. But the silence inside her grew louder with every step.
Then came Daniel.
He wasn't like the others. At least, that's what Maya thought.
He appeared in her life like a soft melody—gentle, reassuring. His laughter had a way of filling the hollow spaces in her heart, and his words carried promises of forever.
For a while, Maya believed him.
She gave him her mornings, waking up early just to read his texts. She gave him her afternoons, waiting for his calls. She gave him her evenings, sitting alone in cafés with her favorite tea, counting the minutes until he arrived.
But Daniel was always late.
Sometimes an hour, sometimes two.
And when he finally showed up, his eyes were glued to his phone, his mind elsewhere.
At first, Maya told herself it was fine. Love means patience, she thought. But deep inside, she felt the ache of being invisible. She was giving him time—the most precious thing she had—while he treated it as if it were endless.
One rainy evening, she waited again. Two hours passed, her tea untouched, her notebook filled with scribbles of restless thoughts. The café's lights dimmed, and she realized he wasn't coming.
Her chest tightened, but then something strange happened.
The world around her seemed to slow.
The raindrops outside the window froze mid-air, shimmering like diamonds. The chatter in the café fell silent. And in that silence, Maya saw a vision—her own reflection in the glass.
The reflection spoke, her voice firm yet gentle:
"Time is the currency of life.
Spend it only on those who value it.
Every wasted hour is a piece of yourself you'll never get back."
The vision faded, and the world returned to motion—the rain fell, the laughter resumed, and her tea grew colder.
But Maya no longer felt the same.
She closed her notebook, stood up, and walked out into the storm. Her heart was heavy, yes, but lighter than before. For the first time, she realized she was not weak for wanting love—
she was strong for walking away from those who did not see her worth.
That night, she whispered to herself before sleeping:
"My hours are not endless.
And I will no longer waste t
hem on those who don't deserve them."