The next day, Joya waited without meaning to.She stood by the side of the road, pretending to adjust her bag, her eyes fixed on the dusty path ahead. She told herself she was only waiting for the breeze, for the quiet of the afternoon. But her heart knew the truth. It was counting time.
When Sudom finally appeared, riding his bicycle like always, her breath caught. Nothing about him had changed. The same steady pace, the same tired posture, the same quiet presence that made her chest feel tight.Joya looked away.
She was afraid of what might happen if their eyes met.
Sudom passed by, unaware of the storm he left behind. He greeted someone else with a small smile, exchanged a few words, and continued on his way. To him, it was just another ordinary day.
To Joya, it was anything but.
At school, she saw him again from a distance. He laughed with his friends, spoke easily, lived freely. Joya watched silently, sitting in her corner, her feelings carefully hidden behind a calm face. She wondered how someone could be so close, yet so unreachable.
They had never spoken properly.
They didn't share secrets.
They didn't even share a glance.
And yet, he occupied her thoughts more than anyone else.
That afternoon, as she walked home, Joya realized something that made her heart ache. Sudom wasn't a stranger. She knew his habits, his timing, the sound of his bicycle.
But to him, she was invisible.
Some people are close enough to touch, yet far enough to hurt.
And Joya understood, with quiet sadness, that loving him would mean loving alone.