Chapter 11 — "The Silence Between Us"
Distance didn't bring peace.
It brought quiet.
The heavy kind that pressed against my chest until breathing felt like work.
I went to the office the next morning like nothing had changed.
Same clothes.
Same desk.
Same city buzzing outside the glass.
But everything felt… muted.
Arvan wasn't there.
His office lights stayed off all morning.
No messages.
No instructions.
No presence that made the air feel charged.
I told myself this was what I wanted.
Space.
Safety.
Normalcy.
But by noon, the absence hurt more than the pressure ever had.
I buried myself in work, triple-checking files, reviewing designs, answering emails before anyone could question me.
I didn't look toward his office.
Not once.
At least, that's what I told myself.
During lunch, Riya slid into the chair across from me.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
I nodded. "Yeah."
She didn't push.
Instead, she said quietly, "He hasn't been himself today."
My heart stumbled.
I kept my voice neutral. "What do you mean?"
"He cancelled two meetings," she replied. "Snapped at the board. Then disappeared."
I swallowed.
"That's… not my problem," I said, hating how thin it sounded.
Riya studied me carefully.
"Maybe not. But it's not nothing either."
She left me alone after that.
The afternoon dragged.
By the time evening came, my head throbbed and my chest felt hollow.
I packed up slowly, hoping—against my better judgment—that he'd appear.
He didn't.
Outside, the sky was turning dark when my phone buzzed.
My heart jumped before my mind could catch up.
Arvan:
Are you okay?
Three words.
Simple. Careful.
I stared at the screen for a long moment before replying.
Me:
Yes.
The reply came slower this time.
Arvan:
Good.
Nothing else.
No pressure.
No questions.
No attempt to close the distance I'd created.
That hurt more than I expected.
I reached my apartment and tossed my bag aside, pacing the room like a caged thought.
This is better, I told myself.
This is safer.
And yet…
My phone buzzed again.
Arvan:
I won't contact you unless you want me to.
Just know—I'm here.
My chest tightened painfully.
He was respecting the boundary.
And somehow, that made everything worse.
I sank onto the couch, phone clutched in my hand.
Because silence wasn't healing me.
It was reminding me of everything I'd chosen to step away from.
And the scariest realization of all settled quietly in my heart—
Walking away hadn't made me feel stronger.
It had made me feel lonelier.