Chapter 2 - Who are you?
544 Words
Her phone vibrated again.
She hadn’t saved the number.
Didn’t know who it was.
And yet… ignoring it was getting harder with every message.
She opened it.
“You’re not confused. You’re just used to ignoring yourself.”
Her stomach tightened.
It wasn’t charming.
It wasn’t sweet.
It was… accurate. Too accurate.
She locked the screen instantly.
“No,” she whispered to herself.
“You’re not doing this.”
She knew exactly how this worked.
A vulnerable moment.
A little attention.
A spark.
And suddenly… you’re attached to something that was never real.
She wasn’t that woman. Not anymore.
“Who are you texting?”
His voice came from behind her.
She flinched—just slightly.
“Nobody,” she said too quickly.
He looked at her for a second.
Then shrugged.
“Okay.”
That was it. No curiosity. No tension. No sign that anything about her mattered enough to question. And somehow… that hurt more than if he had pushed.
Later that night, alone in the bedroom, she picked up her phone again.
The screen lit up immediately.
Like it had been waiting for her.
A new message.
“You don’t have to reply.”
She exhaled slowly.
“But you’re already reacting. That’s enough.”
She closed her eyes.
No.
She wasn’t doing this.
She knew the pattern too well.
Emptiness → attention → attachment → disappointment.
She wasn’t falling into that again.
The phone vibrated once more.
Her fingers hovered above the screen.
This wasn’t about him.
This was about her.
About the part of her that had been quiet for too long…and was starting to wake up.
She opened the message.
“Do you remember when you stopped choosing yourself?”
Her breath caught. A slow, unfamiliar heat spread through her chest.
This wasn’t flirting.
But the effect… was stronger than flirting.
Because it didn’t touch the surface.
It went deeper.
She tightened her grip on the phone.
“Don’t,” she whispered. But her fingers… moved anyway.
Before she could stop herself, she typed:
“Who are you?”
Sent.
Silence.
Her heart started beating faster than it should have.
Regret hit immediately.
Too fast.
Too impulsive.
Too… involved.
“Seriously?” she muttered. “You’re doing this now?”
Too late.
Three dots appeared on the screen.
He was typing.
Her skin warmed.
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up.
Anticipation… sharp and dangerous.
The reply came.
Short.
“Someone who sees you fading next to the wrong man.”
Everything in her stilled.
Her breath.
Her thoughts.
Even the room felt different.
She read it again.
And this time… it hit deeper.
Not because of who he was.
But because a part of her… agreed.
The bedroom door opened.
He walked in, calm, familiar.
“Are you coming to bed?”
She looked at him.
Then slowly… back at her phone.
Two worlds.
One predictable.
One unsettlingly alive.
One where she knew exactly how things would go.
The other… where something inside her was waking up whether she wanted it or not.
She placed the phone down.
“Yeah… I’m coming.”
But for the first time in a long time…
she wasn’t sure which version of her would walk into that bed.
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