Entangled

Aftermath

Chapter 1: Aftermath

It was a Sunday morning—the kind that felt too quiet, too slow, and way too heavy for no reason.

The curtains let in just enough light to remind me the world is moving, even if I’m not. I have emails to reply to, timelines to confirm, and vendors to call. I’m supposed to be working on a wedding reception plan for next weekend, but the bride keeps switching between gold and blush pink, and I need to figure out centerpieces today.

But I can’t move.

Not yet. My phone buzzes.

I assume it’s a client. I reach for it without thinking.

And I freeze.

“Hey, Andy… Can we talk?”

I blink. Once. Twice.

I reread it three times before my heart even dares to react.

It’s him.

Ayo.

The name I deleted but never erased from memory.

Ayo? After one full year? After ghosting me without a single word?

Now, he’s texting me like he just went to the store and forgot to bring back juice.

I should ignore it. I tell myself that. I even started to toss the phone aside.

But my fingers betray me.

“Talk about what?” I type back.

I don’t even give the message space to breathe before I hit send.

Minutes pass.

My eyes keep going back to my screen.

Buzz.

“I still love you, Andy. I’ve never stopped.”

My heart skips. I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. Stupidly.

There’s a kind of pull that never goes away. First love is that one thread in your soul you think you’ve cut but it’s only tangled somewhere deeper.

“You left without a word.”

He replies fast.

“I know. I messed up. But there’s no girl like you out there. No one gets me like you do.”

Lies? Maybe.

But he knew how to craft the right sentence and I… I knew how to fall for them.

I roll over and stare at the ceiling.

My to-do list sits forgotten on my desk. It’s 9:42 am and I haven’t even had breakfast. I’ve been lying here since 7:30 am, and all I’ve done is text my ghost of a lover.

I tell myself he still has power over me because it’s easier than admitting I never truly let him go.

“Do you think we could try again?” he asks.

My heart screams yes.

But I type:

“I’ll think about it.”

He sends a smiling emoji. I smile too. Curse him.

I drag myself out of bed around 11 am. Make a lazy sandwich. Drink water straight from the bottle. My hair’s a mess. My checklist is still untouched.

But my phone?Still in my hand.

Every ping makes my heart race.

What if it’s him again? What if he says more?

I reply to some clients just to feel responsible again. But I keep checking my messages, waiting for him to say the one thing that will erase a year of pain.

He doesn’t.

He disappears again, mid-conversation, like nothing changed.

And yet, I still wait.

I sit on the edge of my bed, my laptop open but untouched.

The ache in my chest has no name. Not exactly pain. Not quite joy. Just something in between.

Then, another message buzzed in.

But this time, it wasn’t Ayo.

It was Vinta — my best friend.

“I want to come over today,” she texted.

“Let’s hang out. I miss you.”

I blinked at the screen. She picked the worst day. I had orders to sort out, timelines to finalize, and a week’s worth of to-dos staring at me. But I knew how Vinta was. If she wanted to come over, she would come over — whether I said yes or not.

So, I texted back: “If you’re coming, you’re working.”

She replied with a laughing emoji and a thumbs-up.

When she came, we worked on a few client mood boards, rearranged props in my workspace, and ran to the supermarket nearby to grab some basic supplies. While we were there, I kept checking my phone, sneaking glances at the screen between shelves and price tags.

Vinta noticed.

She didn’t say anything right away, but I could tell she was watching me closely.

Later, back in my room, I stepped into the bathroom for just a minute. When I came out, her expression had changed.

“Andy… Ayo messaged you?”

I froze.

“I saw his name pop up,” she said quietly. “Are you seriously talking to him again?”

I opened my mouth, but the words didn’t come.

“This is the same guy who left you broken, Andy. One year. One whole year without a single goodbye, and now what? A few sweet messages and you forget all that?”

I looked away, guilt swelling in my chest. I wanted to defend myself. I wanted to explain. But she kept going.

“You know what happens when you read the same book twice, right? The ending never changes.”

I bit my lip. The same line Ayo once used to comfort me was now being thrown back at me — but in warning.

I sighed, my heart caught between hope and fear.

“I’ll think about it,” I mumbled.

Vinta shook her head, frustrated but soft. “Just promise me you won’t make the same mistake twice.”

I nodded.

But the truth was… I’d already made it.

She didn’t push further. Just gave me that look the one only a best friend gives when they see you slipping, but love you enough to stand by anyway.

We ended up talking about other things. Ate some snacks. Watched silly videos. Laughed like we used to.

Vinta left around 6 p.m. We hugged at the door, and she made me promise I wouldn’t do anything stupid not yet.

After she left, the room felt quiet again.

Too quiet.

I lay back on my bed, ready to finally get some work done. I grabbed my phone, planning to put it away for the night.

But just then, it lit up again.

Ayo.

But this time…

The message wasn’t for me alone.

He said he wanted to see me — in person.