đď¸ Christian's POV â Voice Memo (Unsent)
The room was dark.
He couldn't sleep.
Couldn't think.
So he picked up his phone. Opened the voice recorder. Pressed record.
But didn't press send.
"I'm not good at this," his voice cracked. "At talking. At explaining what hurts and why."
He paced the floor, still wearing the same shirt he'd stormed out in.
"I know what I did. And I know how it looked when I walked away."
"But Ana⌠it wasn't you I was leaving."
Pause.
"It was the part of me that wanted to believe I could be loved without it becoming a transaction."
"You saw too much. And for a moment I thought⌠if you can see all the cracks, you'll leave too."
Silence.
Then, softerâ
"You didn't. You stayed."
"And I left anyway."
He stopped recording.
Stared at the phone.
And closed the app without sending it.
Because he was still scared.
Not of her rageâŚ
But of her silence.
đŻď¸ Ana's POV â The Silence Between Them
She didn't text.
Didn't call.
Didn't leave the door open.
Not out of pride.
But out of self-respect.
She cooked breakfast for herself that morning.
Sat by the window with a book she didn't read.
Left her phone face-down the entire day.
Because if he wanted to come backâ
He'd have to do it without being chased.
Her friends would've told her to yell. To demand answers.
But Ana didn't want noise.
She wanted truth.
And if Christian Blake couldn't give her thatâ
Then his silence would match hers.
đ Nightfall
He stood outside her door at 8:47 p.m.
Phone in his pocket. Message still unsent.
Hand raised⌠but he didn't knock.
Because in that moment, he realized:
The woman inside wasn't angry.
She was disappointed.
And that hurt worse than any scream.
To be continuedâŚ