Chapter 4: Misunderstandings
Monday arrived too quickly.
I came home exhausted, dragging my bag behind me.
Alex was in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through his tablet.
"Hey," I said quietly.
He didn't look up.
I dropped my bag with a thud.
"Rough day," I muttered.
Alex hummed, still not meeting my eyes.
---
Later, I found a sticky note on the table:
"You left the kitchen light on again. Be careful."
I frowned.
He didn't usually leave notes like this.
I felt… annoyed?
"Why does he care so much about tiny things?" I muttered to myself.
I should have felt grateful.
Instead, a sting of irritation settled in.
---
That night, I was making tea when my phone buzzed.
A message from a friend:
"Hey, saw Alex at the cafe today. He looked… cozy with some guy."
My stomach dropped.
I slammed the phone down.
Alex walked past me silently, his presence heavier than usual.
"Is something wrong?" he asked calmly.
I wanted to yell.
I wanted to accuse.
But the words stuck in my throat.
Instead, I said nothing.
He sighed softly, and the tension hung thick between us.
---
Later, we sat in the living room, side by side but not touching.
"I saw him with someone," I finally said, voice low.
Alex froze.
Then a flicker of something—annoyance? embarrassment?—crossed his face.
"That wasn't… what you think," he said.
I wanted to believe him.
I wanted to trust him.
But the seed of doubt was planted.
---
Before going to bed, I found him standing by the window, staring at the city lights.
I stepped closer, hesitated.
"Alex… I…"
He turned slowly.
His eyes softened, just a little.
"Let's not argue over nothing," he said quietly.
But the tension didn't vanish.
It lingered.
And somehow, it made my chest ache more than before.
---