I didn't feel any real connection with him. Our conversations were rare, our glances frequent.
Gabriel and I attended the same university — and, coincidentally, the same language school.
As months slipped by, our chats became a routine. They mostly revolved around novels, genres, study notes, or homework. Nothing more, nothing less.
It wasn't friendship — just an ordinary exchange between classmates.
When I told my trio — Samantha and Olivia — they were, as usual, quick to turn my calm curiosity into possible delusion.
But I wasn't using anyone this time. Not to distract myself, not to heal faster.
What I felt around Gabriel wasn't a coping mechanism — it was just… natural. The healing was slow, but it was real. I'd stopped expecting instant closure. I knew how those nights used to feel — the loneliness, the tears, the tiny flicker of hope that refused to die.
Now, it's different. Nothing lasts forever, and neither did my hopes for Tyler.
At the university, I made a few friends. Some were genuine; others wore kindness like a mask. They smiled at my face but turned away just as easily.
At the language school, though, I was mostly alone — and somehow, that didn't bother me anymore.
Still, I couldn't deny one thing.
I looked forward to seeing Gabriel on campus. Not for conversation — just the comfort of his presence. He was usually in the library, quiet and focused, or surrounded by his friends.
And most of his friends… were girls.
Was I overthinking it? Probably.
Maybe he was just popular — the quiet kind of charm that drew people in.
I had no right to feel jealous, but the thought crept in anyway.
What if one of them was his girlfriend?
Damn it. When I liked Tyler, he too was already committed.
History really does have a sense of humor.
But still, who was I to ask? He wasn't even a close friend — just someone I happened to share space and silence with.
Months passed. We began sitting next to each other during lectures. Sometimes, we discussed the class material; other times, we drifted into random topics.
I had long accepted the idea that maybe no one would ever see me that way — especially boys. My insecurities ran deep, rooted in the way I saw myself. But Gabriel treated me kindly — like a person worth listening to. That was enough.
Our Instagram DMs had become a library of book recommendations by now.
Simple. Steady. Safe.
---
It was February. I had finished my lectures for the day and was heading to the library. Gabriel had missed a few classes, so I assumed I might find him there.
I walked in, grabbed a book, and settled in the far corner — my favorite spot. After an hour of quiet reading, I unlocked my phone, casually scrolling through Instagram.
And then I saw it.
Gabriel's story.
A hand holding a bouquet of flowers.
A tag — "Thank you @sarah21."
Sarah. Definitely a girl's name.
And it hit me — today was February 7th. Rose Day.
For a second, everything went still.
I took a screenshot and sent it to Olivia and Samantha. They were surprised but calm. Olivia replied, "It's fine, he's good-looking — it's obvious someone would be interested in him."
I sighed. She was right.
I closed the book, returned it to the shelf, and walked toward the exit.
And just as I reached the door — I saw him.
Gabriel. Standing at the counter, issuing books.
I didn't stop. I walked past him without a word.
But my mind wouldn't stop racing.
Who was she? Was she prettier than me? Funnier? Smarter?
Why did it bother me at all?
Overthinking had become second nature to me. And here I was again — caught in a loop I thought I'd escaped.
I shook my head, plugged in my earphones, and switched my playlist.
No love songs this time — just something loud, something careless.
And then, my phone buzzed.
A notification.
Gabriel.
---