After the silence
726 Words
Ava didn’t look back.
Not once.
Even when she heard it. Soft, broken, almost not there at all.
“Ava…”
It didn’t stop her feet.
It didn’t change her direction.
It just stayed behind her like something she could no longer afford to carry.
Noah stood there long after she was gone, staring at the empty space she used to occupy, as if staying still enough might rewind what just happened.
But nothing rewound.
Nothing softened.
Only the quiet remained.
At home, Ava shut her bedroom door and leaned against it.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
Her acceptance email still glowed on her laptop screen like it belonged to someone else now. Someone who wasn’t standing in a courtyard trying not to fall apart.
Paris.
Six weeks.
A future she was supposed to be excited about.
But all she could hear was his voice.
Not what he said.
What he didn’t.
And that somehow hurt more.
She pressed her fingers against her eyes, forcing herself to breathe normally again.
“I’m not doing this,” she whispered to herself.
But her voice didn’t sound convincing.
The next day, Noah didn’t text.
Ava didn’t either.
It wasn’t stubbornness at first.
It was confusion.
That strange in-between space where neither person knows who is supposed to fix it first—so nothing gets fixed at all.
At school, they moved like strangers who used to know each other too well.
Mia noticed immediately.
“So… you two broke up or something?”
Ava hesitated just long enough for that answer to matter.
“I don’t know,” she said finally.
Mia frowned. “That’s not really an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
Noah heard about Paris properly the next day in passing.
Someone in class mentioned it like it was nothing.
“Ava Laurent’s going to Paris for some business program.”
His pen stopped mid-sentence.
Paris.
So it was real.
Not a plan.
Not a maybe.
A direction.
Ava was moving forward whether he understood it or not.
And he was still standing in the same place, pretending he wasn’t being left behind.
That afternoon, he found her again.
Not planned.
Not prepared.
Just inevitable.
Ava was sitting under the tree near the back of campus, staring at her phone but not really reading anything.
When she saw him, her expression didn’t change immediately.
That was what hurt.
Not anger.
Not sadness.
Just… distance.
“You came,” she said quietly.
Noah swallowed. “Yeah.”
A pause.
Then, “We need to talk.”
Ava almost laughed at that.
“We always talk,” she said. “That’s the problem.”
Noah flinched slightly.
“I didn’t mean what I said.”
Ava looked down at her hands. “You did.”
Silence.
The wind moved between them like it didn’t want to take sides.
Noah exhaled. “I’m scared.”
That finally made her look at him.
Because it was honest.
And Noah didn’t do honest easily.
“I’m scared you’re going to leave and realize you can do better than me,” he admitted.
Ava’s expression softened but only slightly.
“That’s not how I think.”
“It is how I think,” he corrected quietly.
Another pause.
Smaller this time.
“I watched you get that acceptance email and all I could think about was how small I feel next to your future.”
Ava shook her head. “My future doesn’t cancel you out.”
“It feels like it does.”
That was the problem.
Feelings didn’t need logic to exist.
They just needed space to grow.
And his fear had grown unchecked for too long.
Ava stood slowly.
“I’m not leaving you because I’m going somewhere,” she said.
Noah looked at her like he wanted to believe her but didn’t know how.
“I just wish you saw me the way I see you,” she added softly.
That line stayed between them.
Heavy.
Unfinished.
Because neither of them knew how to fix what wasn’t just distance anymore.
It was belief.
Or the lack of it.
Ava picked up her bag.
“I have to go,” she said.
Noah nodded once.
But this time, he didn’t say her name.
And that silence said more than anything else ever could.
- Writer
