Back Where the Heart Hesitates
The short but somehow long break from school had finally ended.
Time had played its strange tricks again, stretching and collapsing days until it felt like the holiday had both just begun and lasted forever.
But now, reality had returned, and with it, the rhythm of campus life.
Saraph and I were back where we belonged, or at least, where we were supposed to be.
The campus greeted us like an old friend with familiar hallways, warm laughter spilling out of crowded lecture rooms, and the comforting aroma of brewed coffee curling through the morning air.
There was comfort in the predictability of it all.
And yet… something had shifted.
It wasn't the buildings or the people. It was us.
Especially me.
After everything that had happened after the silence, the questions, the slow unravelling of what once was with Daniel, walking these paths again felt different.
He was here too. Somewhere in this swarm of faces. Breathing the same air, walking these same sidewalks.
But we hadn't talked. Not properly.
And that silence echoed louder than any words.
Saraph noticed. Of course she did.
And although she tried to act like everything was back to normal, I caught her watching me more closely than usual, protective, concerned, the way only a best friend can be.
The semester was starting, yes.
But for me, another chapter was opening beneath the surface, a quieter one, laced with unanswered questions, uneasy memories, and a flickering hope that maybe, just maybe, I'd find the clarity I needed in the days ahead.
Cracks Beneath the Surface
It was a quiet Thursday when Saraph came to find me, her face unreadable, but her eyes heavy with something that made my stomach twist before she even spoke.
We sat behind the old Humanities building, where the ivy clung to the walls and the world felt slower.
A place where secrets could breathe.
"I wasn't even looking for anything," she began, voice low, the wind tugging at her curls.
"But you know that guy from Daniel's faculty—Leo?"
I nodded, already uneasy.
"He posted a video on his status last night from some birthday hangout… just a regular clip, honestly.
Laughter, a cake, nothing special.
But then I noticed something."
She handed me her phone and let the video play.
I saw Daniel. In the background.
Not unusual.
But sitting beside him, shoulder pressed to his, was a girl I'd never seen once or met.
She was laughing at something he'd said, the kind of laugh that wasn't just friendly. It lingered.
His face turned toward her, smiling softly in return.
It was subtle, easily dismissible unless you were looking closely.
Unless you knew what Daniel's gentle eyes used to look like when they focused on you.
A moment later, she reached for his hand. It wasn't a long touch. But it was there.
I couldn't breathe for a second.
"Maybe it's nothing," I whispered. But the words fell like cracked porcelain between us.
They sounded false even as I said them.
Saraph didn't reply. She didn't have to.
Then she showed me another screenshot, this one from the girl's close friends' Instagram story.
A photo of a table set for two. Two cups of steaming tea. A plate of shared cake.
And Daniel's hoodie again. The same grey one he always wore on cold mornings.
The caption read: "Midweek calm with my calm 💛."
The color drained from my cheeks.
"He never told you, did he?" Saraph said quietly, watching me closely. "Not even when you visited."
"No," I said, voice hoarse. "He didn't."
The silence between us stretched long and raw. My mind reeled not just from the image, but from everything it meant
. Every time I questioned myself, every night I thought maybe I was overthinking, every moment I believed he just needed time… it all caved in like a wave too heavy to hold.
It wasn't just the presence of another girl. It was the absence of truth.
"I feel stupid," I finally choked out.
"You're not," Saraph said quickly. "You're not stupid, Nuella. You believed in something real. You held space for him.
That's not weakness. That's love."
"But why?" I whispered. "Why keep me lingering if he had already moved on?"
"I don't know," Saraph murmured, pulling me close, "but I swear to you, we'll find out.
This isn't the end of the story."
I nodded, though my chest felt like it might collapse under the weight.
We sat there in silence, dusk painting the sky in sorrowful orange and violet.
Around us, the world kept spinning, laughter in the distance, footsteps echoing down the pathway.
But in that moment, everything had stopped.
My heart wasn't just bruised. It was beginning to break.
And now, there was proof not enough for confrontation, but enough to confirm the storm I had sensed for weeks.
I didn't know what came next. I didn't know if I had the strength to face Daniel yet.
But I knew this: I wasn't imagining things. I wasn't paranoid. I was right to feel the shift.
And now that the truth had started to reveal itself, the rest would follow.
Piece by painful piece.