A Year After Us

Episode 1

Two years later.

The office was noisy, like every typical Friday. There was laughter from the other team, people standing around sipping coffee, and a few who seemed to live in front of their laptops — like Cate.

She was hunched over her monitor, focused on debugging a piece of code that just wouldn’t behave. Brow furrowed, headphones on, and unaware that her seatmate, Ali, had been staring at her for a while.

“Cateyyy!”

Ali pulled out one of her earphones. “Hey girl, it’s my birthday tomorrow! Come out for drinks later, pleaaase.”

Cate glanced at her, deadpan. “I’ll pass. I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired. We’re getting short-changed here! This is a rare occasion. Let’s just chill — first round’s on me!”

Cate returned to her laptop, pretending not to hear. But Ali wasn’t giving up.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t gone out in two years? It’s like you’re still living in your ex’s grave!”

And that hit her — not the joke, but the truth.

Two years. Two years without a call, a message, or anything at all from Karl. And despite all the projects she had completed, all the overtime hours, all the new apps and systems she had launched — the wound still felt fresh.

But she still chose to wake up every day. Go to work. Stay alive.

Sometimes, that was enough.

“Caaateee,” Ali whined again, tugging on her sleeve like a toddler. “Say yes already so I can stop this drama. Please, oh please, oh please—”

Cate sighed. She tapped her keyboard and locked her screen.

“Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll go. Just stop bugging me.”

“Yesss! You have a social life again — hallelujah!” Ali beamed, throwing her hands up like she just hit the jackpot.

Cate gave a small smile. Not because she was excited — but sometimes, you say yes just to stop the noise. Even when your heart’s not in it.

And as she returned to her screen, she didn’t know... a small plot twist was already making its way into her life.

Another kind of "bug" — but this time, not in her system.

In her heart again.

The bar was louder than she expected.

It was full of lights, laughter, and songs she didn’t know but everyone else did. Amidst the noisy crowd, Cate sat quietly on a high stool, holding a mocktail — just apple soda, because she still didn’t like drinking too much.

Ali, meanwhile, was living her best life — dancing, laughing, taking pictures, and of course, flirting with a new guy every five minutes.

“Cate! Smile over there!” Ali shouted over the music, snapping a candid photo.

Cate gave a forced smile, then looked around.

That’s when she saw him.

In a corner of the bar, a man stood with his back to her. Tall. Broad shoulders. That familiar posture — one hand in his pocket, the other swirling a drink. He looked... familiar.

He looked... like Karl.

Her body went cold. Her hand clutched her glass, afraid it might fall.

No, impossible. That can’t be him.

But why did it feel like it was?

She couldn’t stop staring. It was as if all the noise around her suddenly faded. All she could hear was the thumping of her own heart — fast, anxious, confused.

What if...?

Suddenly, the man turned around.

Not Karl.

He looked nothing like him now that she saw his face clearly. Same build, maybe. But the eyes, the smile — completely different.

She paused. She didn’t know if she should feel relieved... or disappointed.

“Hi!” the guy said, catching her staring. He walked over with a friendly smile. “Are you with Ali? She’s your friend, right? The birthday girl?”

She glanced at Ali, who was now goofing around with another group of friends.

“Yeah,” Cate answered simply. “I’m Cate.”

“Cool. I’m Marco,” he said, offering his hand, friendly but not pushy. “Nice to meet you. Don’t worry, I’m not drunk even though I look like it.”

She chuckled softly. “You’re fine. Ali’s the wild one.”

Marco grinned. “That’s true. Anyway, enjoy the night. Let me know if you need rescue from hyper extroverts.”

He walked away after that — no pressure, no flirting.

Cate took another sip of her drink. It was an okay night. Safe. Normal. Even a little fun.

But every time a guy passed by who even vaguely resembled Karl — in height, in posture, in aura — her heart fluttered. Not from giddiness... but from panic.

She didn’t want to feel that pain again.

Suddenly, her thoughts became noisy, despite the happy atmosphere.

So she stood up.

She walked toward the restroom — she needed air. She needed silence.

Inside, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

“I’m okay... I’m okay...” she whispered over and over.

But no matter how many times she repeated it, she knew there was still a part of her heart that hadn’t fully healed.

She went to the sink.

She slowly washed her hands, trying to calm herself. She took deep breaths.

“I’m okay,” she whispered again — softer this time, and less certain.

She didn’t know why she was so affected. That wasn’t Karl. She wasn’t even sure. And even if it was...

Two years, Cate. Two years. It’s over, right?

She tried to smile in the mirror. Even just a little.

When she left the restroom and started heading back to their table, she heard a voice — not just any voice, but a singing voice.

And the song...

“Oh, I’m obsessed

With the way your head is layin’ on my chest...”

Cate froze in the hallway. It felt like someone had yanked her heart backward. She wasn’t sure if she was really hearing it — or just imagining it.

But no.

That was their song.

“How you love the things I hate about myself

That no one knows, but with you, I see hope again...”

She looked toward the open door of a private karaoke room. It was bright inside, people were laughing and singing along. But the singer — was blocked from view.

She couldn’t see his face. But the voice... the depth, the tenderness, the ache in it...

“Oh, I’m a mess

When I overthink the little things in my head...”

Oh God...

She felt like she was back in Karl’s car, seat reclined, as he played that song.

“This is our song,” Karl had whispered then, stroking her hair. “When we get married, this is the song you’ll walk down the aisle to... and I’ll cry waiting for you.”

“You seem to always help me catch my breath

But then I lose it again

When I look at you, that’s the end...”

Cate’s eyes began to well up.

Part of her mind was screaming: Leave. Don’t do this to yourself.

But her heart stayed tied to that voice. That memory. That song.

“And why do I get so nervous when I look into your eyes?

Butterflies can’t stop me fallin’ for you...”

She stepped closer. Peered inside the room. But she still couldn’t see the singer — friends blocked the view. Still, she could hear it. She could feel it. Like the song was still meant for her.

“And darlin’, this is more than anything I felt before

You’re everything that I want, but I didn’t think I’d find...”

Flashbacks came like waves:

Karl holding her hand by the ocean.

Karl making breakfast.

Karl crying while gripping her shoulders during their last fight.

Karl saying goodbye... and never coming back.

“Someone who is worth the wait of all the years of my heartbreak

But I know now I found the one I love...”

She leaned against the wall. Looked up at the ceiling, fighting back tears.

“And I love the way

You can never find the right things to say...”

Cate closed her eyes. It felt like the song was talking directly to her.

“And you can’t sit still an hour in the day

I’m so in love, let’s run away because us is enough...”

Every line felt like it was pulling out the pain she had buried for two years.

“Come close, let me be home for anything

Good or bad, I know it’s worth it...”

And as the final line echoed in her ears—

“But I know now I found the one I love...”

—she whispered, almost painfully:

“But what if I’m no longer your one?”

She walked away.

She didn’t finish the song. Didn’t peek again.

Because sometimes, no matter how familiar... no matter how nostalgic...

It hurts more when you’re no longer sure you’re the one they’re singing about.

Cate returned to their table, her mind still in a blur.

“Hey, you okay?” Ali asked, handing her another drink.

“Yeah. Just felt a little dizzy from the noise,” she said, forcing a smile.

But truthfully, she didn’t know if it was the noise... or something she hadn’t felt in a long time — fear.

Fear that it was him.

Fear that it wasn’t.

“Ali, I’m heading home. I have some code to finish for a deadline tomorrow. Sorry, okay?”

Ali made a face. “Ugh! We’re supposed to be partying, Catey! But fine, workaholic as always.”

“Alright. Happy birthday again. Take care, okay?” Cate smiled and glanced back once toward the hallway near the karaoke rooms.

Nothing.

She left.

It was late.

She lay in bed, eyes on the ceiling. Quiet. Dark. The only light came from her laptop at the side of her bed.

She sighed. Over and over.

You’re okay now. You’ve moved on. You’re doing well, her mind whispered.

And it was true. The pain was gone. So was the anger. The weight in her chest had lifted.

But as she lay there, trying to sleep... one question kept coming back:

Why does it still feel like something’s missing?