BEFORE WE BECAME STRANGERS.
Every beautiful story has a beginning.
Mine began with a boy who made me laugh, a friend who knew me too well, and a lie I wouldn’t discover until it was too late.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let me start where every good disaster should begin. And of course with Happiness.
“Hey, yello.”
I looked up from my phone.
He stood there with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, wearing the kind of smile that made you forget every clever thing you’d ever planned to say.
I hated that smile.
Well, hate is a strong word.
I hated what it did to me.
“Well, hello,” I replied, fighting the smile threatening to betray me.
He nodded his head.
“That’s all I get?”
“Should I call the police? You’re disturbing my peace.”
“Your peace?” He laughed. “Riel, you haven’t known peace since you met me.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right.”
He placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be wounded.
“That hurts.”
“Good for you.”
“You’re mean.”
“And yet, here you are.”
He smirked.
“Always.”
There are words you forget almost immediately after hearing them.
And then there are words that settle somewhere inside you, quietly making themselves at home.
Always.
He said it like a promise.
I received it like one.
And his name was Zayn.
And at that point in my life, I genuinely believed meeting him was one of the best things that had ever happened to me.
Perhaps it was.
Perhaps that’s what made everything that followed so difficult to forgive.
We spent the afternoon doing absolutely nothing important.
We argued about music. He stole a piece of my food and had the audacity to complain that it wasn’t enough. I threatened to block him. He reminded me that I had made the same threat three times that week.
He remembered things about me.
Small things.
The songs I played when I was sad. The way I pretended not to care when something hurt me. The fact that I hated being asked if I was okay when I clearly wasn’t.
Sometimes, I wondered whether he paid attention to everyone like that.
Then he will look at me in a particular way, and I will forget to wonder.
“Riel?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Leaving.”
I frowned.
“I’m literally sitting right here.”
He shook his head.
“Your body is here. Your mind has travelled to another country.”
I laughed.
“Maybe I’m tired of you.”
“Impossible.”
“You’re very confident.”
“Only about certain things.”
“And what things are those?”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice as though he were about to tell me a state secret.
“That you’ll miss me when I leave.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Delusional.”
“Say it again when you start missing me.”
I didn’t answer.
I was too busy smiling.
That evening, my phone rang.
THOMAS.
I answered immediately.
“Finally!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been calling you since morning.”
“Hello to you too, sunshine.”
“Don’t sunshine me. Where are you?”
“Outside.”
“Outside where?”
I glanced at Zayn.
“With someone.”
There was a pause.
Not a long one.
Just long enough for me to notice.
“Someone?” Thomas repeated.
I smiled.
“Yes, Thomas. A human being.”
“Funny.”
“I try.”
“Is it Zayn?”
My smile faltered.
“How did you know?”
Another pause.
Then he laughed.
It sounded normal.
Almost.
“Riel, you talk about that boy so much that I could probably recognize his footsteps by now.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Is it?”
I looked at Zayn, who was now attempting to steal another piece of my food.
“Okay, maybe I mention him sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” Thomas scoffed. “You mentioned him yesterday. And the day before. And—”
“Okay! I get it!”
He laughed again.
And just like that, whatever strange feeling had settled between us disappeared.
Or perhaps I simply chose not to notice it.
“Come home early,” he said eventually.
“Why?”
“No reason.”
“Thomas.”
“Riel.”
“You’re annoying.”
“And you love me.”
I smiled.
“Unfortunately.”
He went quiet.
For a moment, I thought the call had disconnected.
Then he said something I couldn’t quite hear.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just get home safely.”
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
We ended the call.
I returned to Zayn, who was looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Why is everyone saying nothing today?”
He laughed and took my hand.
“Come on. Let me walk you home.”
And because I was happy, because his hand felt familiar, because the world had not yet taught me to be suspicious of beautiful things, I went with him.
I didn’t know that Thomas would remember that phone call for years.
I didn’t know that Zayn had heard something he wasn’t supposed to hear.
And I certainly didn’t know that one day, the three of us would remember that afternoon differently.
All I knew was that Zayn was holding my hand.
And I wanted him to keep holding it.
⸻
I used to think the opposite of love was hatred.
I was wrong.
Sometimes, the opposite of love is the truth.
And sometimes, the truth arrives so late that all you can do is stand among the ruins, wondering why nobody told you sooner.
