It took her three minutes to accept his friend request.
Three full minutes of hesitation — breathing, deleting thoughts, and rethinking again.
When she finally tapped Accept, she tossed her phone aside like she'd done something wrong.
A few seconds later, a notification blinked.
Nathan: "Hey."
Just one word, but it sank deep — too deep.
She stared at it for almost a minute before replying:
Elena: "Hey. About your key, how do you want me to send it?"
Nathan: "You don't have to send it. Just bring it. I'll be around."
She read it twice. Her chest tightened.
He made it sound so casual — like they hadn't been strangers for months.
Like there weren't unspoken memories sitting between them — cold, alive, waiting to be touched.
She typed back slowly:
Elena: "I don't think that's necessary. You can send someone to get it."
No reply for a while. Then her phone buzzed again.
Nathan: "Elena… can we not do this right now? It's just a key."
She sighed quietly.
No, it wasn't just a key. It was everything left unsaid packed into a small piece of metal.
Elena: "It's not about doing anything. I just don't want issues again, Nathan. You asked for the key, I said I'd get it to you. Simple."
Then came a typing bubble.
It blinked… disappeared… came back again.
Finally, his message appeared.
Nathan: "I saw your notes."
Her fingers froze above the screen.
The little paper notes she'd left at his place — half-written thoughts, tiny apologies, random affirmations she used to stick on his shelf before everything crashed.
Her throat tightened. He kept them?
Elena: "Oh. You saw them."
Nathan: "Yeah. Every one of them. Took me a while to read them all. Guess I didn't realize how much I broke you till I did."
Her heart started racing. She blinked fast, trying not to let tears form.
Elena: "Nathan… don't do this. Please."
Nathan: "No, I have to. First of all, what I said to you that last time — it was a lie. The whole thing about 'choosing love over lust,' about someone else being a blessing and you being a lesson… I made it up. I just wanted you to move on, to have something to hold on to while I tried to deal with my guilt."
She stopped breathing for a moment, staring at his words.
Nathan: "But then I saw your notes. And honestly… I couldn't just grow past it. I couldn't grow past you."
Silence.
That was the first time in months she had no comeback, no defense. Just that quiet ache rising again, slowly pulling her back into the mess she thought she escaped.
He continued:
Nathan: "I think I'm finally ready to talk about what happened."
Her eyes stayed fixed on those words.
She didn't even realize how her breathing changed — slower, heavier. The air in her room suddenly felt smaller.
She dropped her phone on the bed and rubbed her face with both hands.
For weeks, she had been doing fine — creating, smiling, healing little by little.
And now, just like that, his words had reopened something she wasn't ready to touch again.
But still… she picked the phone back up.
Elena: "Alright. Let's talk about it."