Silence used to scare Tiana.
It used to feel like rejection, like something was wrong and she needed to fix it quickly before it grew teeth. But now, silence felt different. It felt chosen. Intentional.
She walked across campus that morning alone, earphones in but no music playing. Just her thoughts. Clearer than they had been in months.
Joshua watched from afar.
He told himself he was only passing by. That he didn't mean to slow his steps when he saw her. That the tightness in his chest meant nothing.
But it did.
She no longer looked like someone waiting to be noticed.
He typed another message.
Can we talk today? Please.
The word please sat heavy on his screen.
Delivered.
Read.
No reply.
Stephen saw it too—not the message, but the moment. Joshua standing still, staring at his phone like it had betrayed him.
Later that day, Dare found Tiana in the library, surrounded by books she hadn't opened.
"You look like someone who's thinking instead of studying," he said gently.
She smiled. "I'm guilty."
He pulled out a chair. "Want company or quiet?"
She considered it. "Company. But quiet company."
"Deal."
They sat there, side by side, not touching, not rushing. Dare didn't ask questions. He didn't fill the space with noise. He let her breathe.
That evening, Nadia spotted them.
She leaned against the railing, eyes sharp, calculating. Tiana's calm unsettled her. That wasn't the face of a girl who had lost.
She texted Stephen again.
Funny how things turn out.
Stephen didn't reply.
Instead, he walked with Tiana back to her hostel later that night, stopping a few steps away.
"You're doing well," he said.
She nodded. "I know."
Joshua stood at a distance, watching the exchange.
For the first time, he understood something painful:
Tiana didn't need rescuing.
She didn't need revenge.
She didn't even need closure.
She had already left—emotionally—while he was still begging for a conversation that no longer existed.
He exhaled slowly.
Some silences, he was learning, did not wait to be broken.
They answered you back.