Approaching The Night
1000 Words
Over the next few days, Damien's calls and messages went unanswered more often than not. Texts that once sparked immediate replies now lingered unread. He noticed her avoiding his usual warmth-the way she once leaned into his presence, shared her thoughts, and laughed freely.
At first, Damien gave her space, thinking the trip and all the family expectations might be overwhelming. But as the silence stretched, worry crept in.
He stared at his phone late one night, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure whether to push or wait.
Where did she go? he wondered.
The vibrant connection they'd built felt fragile, like it was slipping through his fingers - and he didn't know how to reach her anymore.
Friday night was unusually quiet for Damien. Work had swallowed most of his week, leaving little time to think - but his mind kept drifting back to Ayla.
He remembered her mentioning she'd be staying with Bertsy for a few weeks, so, on a whim, he decided to drop by.
Arriving at the apartment building, he rang the bell and knocked gently on the door. But no answer came.
He waited a moment, then tried again. Still nothing.
Feeling a pang of worry, Damien stepped back to his car. Pulling out a sticky note and pen, he scribbled a quick message:
"Hey Ayla, I'm heading on a business trip for a month. I really wish I could see you before I go. Please reach out when you can."
He slipped the note under the narrow gap beneath the door, then stood there for a moment, hoping she'd find it soon.
With a heavy heart, he walked back to his car, the night suddenly feeling colder and lonelier.
The soft glow of the hallway light filtered under the door, catching Ayla's eye as she returned to Bertsy's apartment after a long day. She noticed a small sticky note tucked just beneath the doorframe.
Curious, she bent down and peeled it off, reading Damien's handwriting:
"Hey Ayla, I'm heading on a business trip for a month. I really wish I could see you before I go. Please reach out when you can."
Her chest tightened. She stared at the note, emotions swirling - longing, sadness, but mostly an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.
As long as Damien's parents are around, their expectations will always fall on me, she thought bitterly. The pressure, the legacy, the weight of it all...
Tears pricked at her eyes as she folded the note carefully and tucked it into her pocket.
Maybe I'm just not strong enough for this. Maybe it's time to give up.
She sat down heavily on the couch, the silence around her a stark contrast to the love and hope she once felt.
For now, Ayla decided, some battles were too heavy to fight - even for love.
Back at the family estate after a few days into his business trip, Damien sat across from his parents in the grand, wood-paneled study. The weight of their expectations hung thick in the air.
“I need to talk about Ayla,” Damien began, trying to keep his voice steady. “She’s been distant. She’s struggling with the pressure from you — from the family legacy.”
His father’s expression hardened. “If she can’t fulfill what’s expected — provide an heir, continue the line — then maybe she’s not the right one.”
His mother’s voice was cold but measured. “You must understand, Damien, this is not just about you or her. It’s about the family, the inheritance, the future.”
Damien clenched his fists. “So you want me to find someone else?”
His father nodded firmly. “If you want to keep the legacy alive, yes.”
That night, Damien found himself wandering through a gala hosted by business associates. Among the glittering crowd, he met someone new — charming, poised, seemingly everything his parents would approve of.
They exchanged numbers, and before long, Damien began a fresh chapter, one filled with obligation but also a growing guilt.
What about Ayla? the thought gnawed at him during quiet moments. But he pushed it aside, burying it beneath layers of duty and necessity.
Still, in the back of his mind, a part of him longed for the honesty and connection he had shared with Ayla — a reminder of what truly mattered.
Damien stepped out of a sleek café in the city’s bustling center, his new girlfriend by his side. The glow of fresh beginnings seemed to surround them. He had cleared out his old apartment — the place where memories with Ayla still lingered — and moved into a stylish new home, a clean slate.
Unbeknownst to Damien, Bertsy sat at a sidewalk café branch across the street, sipping coffee when her eyes caught the unmistakable figure of Damien, laughing easily with a woman she didn’t recognize.
Quickly, she snapped a photo and sent it to Ayla.
That evening, Bertsy nudged Ayla gently. “You should call him. Maybe you two can talk.”
Ayla’s hands trembled as she dialed Damien’s number.
Across town, Damien’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the caller ID, his eyes hardening, and then deliberately flipped the phone face down, ignoring the call.
Bertsy, watching from her side, whispered to Ayla, “He’s not picking up.”
Heart heavy, Ayla texted him later: “I saw you with someone else in town. Did you really throw everything we had away?”
Minutes later, his reply came cold and distant: “You ghosted me. My parents still want kids. I had to set my priorities straight.”
Ayla stared at the screen, tears spilling down her cheeks.
How could he say that? she thought, disbelief crashing over her.
With a shaky breath, she blocked him everywhere, deleted his number, and wrapped herself in the quiet of her solo life.
No calls. No messages. Just the silence she’d chosen — and the painful freedom that came with it.
- Writer
