The conversation with Sid stayed in Anna's mind long after it ended.
She went home that night feeling lighter, but not peaceful. Things were clearer, yes, but they were not solved. Understanding someone didn't mean everything suddenly became easy.
The next morning at work felt different.
Sid greeted her like he always did, calm and gentle, but there was honesty in his eyes now. No distance. No silence. Still, they didn't talk much. Both of them were careful, as if they were walking on new ground.
During lunch, they sat together but kept the conversation simple. Work. Deadlines. Small things. Yet, every pause between words carried meaning.
"I'm glad we talked," Anna said quietly.
Sid nodded. "Me too. I should've done it earlier."
She didn't blame him. She knew now that some people didn't hide because they didn't care. They hid because they were afraid of being seen.
Days passed like this.
They were closer than before, but also more aware of each other's limits. Sid tried to share more, even when it wasn't easy. Anna tried to listen without rushing him.
Sometimes, it worked.
Sometimes, it didn't.
One evening, Anna stayed late again, finishing a design that refused to feel right. Sid noticed and waited for her.
"You don't have to stay every time I do," she said when she saw him.
"I know," he replied. "I want to."
They walked out together, tired but calm.
"Do you ever feel like we're still learning each other?" Anna asked.
"All the time," Sid said. "But maybe that's not a bad thing."
She thought about that.
Maybe knowing someone wasn't a final point. Maybe it was a process.
At home, Anna opened her sketchbook but didn't draw. She kept thinking about how easily misunderstandings had grown between them before. How silence had almost pulled them apart.
She didn't want that again.
Sid, sitting alone in his room, opened a book but couldn't focus. His thoughts returned to Anna's words, her patience, her honesty. He realized something uncomfortable.
Being calm was easy.
Being open was harder.
But if he wanted this to work, he would have to try.
The next day, Sid did something small but important.
He told Anna about a work pressure he had been carrying. Not everything. Just enough.
She listened. She didn't interrupt. She didn't fix it.
She stayed.
And that was new.
Their story didn't suddenly become perfect after that conversation. There were still pauses, still doubts, still moments of confusion.
But now, they were facing them together.
And that changed the rhythm of everything.
The question was no longer "Do I ever know you?"
It had quietly become:
"Will we keep trying to?"