Chapter 3[Part III] - Back where it started(PART 1)
1357 Words
Chapter Three – Back Where It Started (Part Three)
I spent the rest of the afternoon pretending I was fine.
It was a skill I had perfected years ago.
Smile when necessary. Keep your voice steady. Answer questions carefully. Never let anyone see what was actually happening underneath.
By evening, I had sorted half the property papers, answered two family emails, and reread the same sentence in one document at least six times without understanding a single word.
Because no matter how hard I tried, my mind kept circling back to him.
Ethan.
To the way he stood in that café like time had never really passed.
To the way he looked at me like I was still someone important.
And worst of all—
I waited for you longer than I should have.
I hated him for saying that.
I hated myself more for caring.
I shut the folder in front of me and leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling.
The house was too quiet.
Quiet gave memories too much room.
Outside, the evening sky had turned soft blue, the kind that made this town look prettier than it deserved. I used to love evenings here.
Back when life was simpler.
Back when Ethan and I used to sit on the hood of his car near the old football field and talk for hours about leaving.
Or staying.
Or each other.
Sometimes silence with him had felt safer than conversations with anyone else.
I sat up immediately.
“No,” I muttered.
I wasn’t doing that.
I was not going to sit here and romanticize the past like it hadn’t broken me.
The past always looked softer from a distance.
Reality had been sharper.
There had been tears. Pride. Fights. Things said too late. Things never said at all.
And in the end—
there had been leaving.
Mine.
His.
Ours.
A knock at the front door pulled me from my thoughts.
I frowned.
Another visitor?
Apparently nobody in this town believed in texting first.
I got up and walked to the door, expecting my aunt or maybe a neighbor.
Instead, I found Zara standing there wearing oversized sunglasses on her head and enough confidence for five people.
I stared.
She grinned.
“Well? Are you going to let your best friend in, or are we doing dramatic reunion scenes now?”
I laughed before I could stop myself.
“Zara?”
She pushed past me immediately.
“Yes, me. In the flesh. Try to look more excited.”
I shut the door behind her, still surprised.
“You’re supposed to be in Canada.”
“I was. Then your aunt called and told me you were back and clearly in emotional distress.”
I blinked.
“She said that?”
“She implied it. I improved the delivery.”
That sounded like her.
Zara dropped her bag on the couch and turned to look at me properly.
For a second, the teasing disappeared.
“You really came back.”
Something softer sat in her voice.
I nodded.
“Yeah.”
She crossed the room and hugged me so suddenly I nearly lost balance.
I hugged her back.
And for one second, something inside me relaxed.
Because some people remind you of who you were before life got complicated.
Zara was one of them.
When she pulled away, she studied my face carefully.
“You look tired.”
“Wow. Thank you. Exactly what every woman wants to hear.”
“You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, I did.
I sighed and sat down.
She sat across from me like she was preparing for an interview.
“Okay,” she said. “Tell me everything.”
“No.”
“Amara.”
“Zara.”
She pointed dramatically.
“Don’t do that. I drove all the way here. I deserve details.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“There are no details.”
She gave me a look.
I looked away.
That was answer enough.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Oh my God.”
“No.”
“You saw him.”
I groaned.
“Why does everyone know everything?”
“Because your face is basically a confession.”
I dropped my head back against the couch.
“This town is exhausting.”
She leaned forward, fully invested.
“When?”
“The first day.”
“Where?”
“At the house.”
She gasped.
“He came to your house?”
“Yes, Zara. Please say it louder so the neighbors can hear too.”
She ignored me.
“What did he say?”
I hesitated.
Bad choice.
Her eyes widened.
“Oh, it was serious.”
“It was not serious.”
“Amara.”
I sighed.
“He said he came to see me.”
Zara blinked slowly.
“That man is either very brave or very stupid.”
“Probably both.”
She sat back.
“And today?”
I frowned. “How do you know there was a today?”
“Because you have that look.”
“What look?”
“The one you get when you’re trying very hard not to feel something.”
I hated how accurate she was.
I crossed my arms.
“I ran into him at the café.”
“Of course you did.”
“Of course.”
She waited.
I gave in.
“He asked if we could talk.”
“And?”
“I said no.”
“Reasonable.”
I sighed.
“Then he said he waited for me longer than he should have.”
That made her go quiet.
Real quiet.
She looked at me carefully.
“And what did you say?”
I swallowed.
“I told him he shouldn’t have.”
Zara exhaled slowly.
“Wow.”
“Very helpful. Thank you.”
“No, I mean it. Wow.”
She shook her head.
“That’s not small, Amara.”
“I know.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
She gave me that look.
The one that said I was lying badly.
She won.
“There’s still something there,” I admitted quietly.
Her expression softened.
“Well… yeah.”
I laughed once without humor.
“Fantastic. Love that for me.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m serious. I came back for family responsibilities, not emotional destruction.”
“And yet,” she said gently, “here we are.”
I hated when she was wise.
It ruined the fun.
I stood and walked to the kitchen because sitting still made honesty too easy.
She followed.
“Do you still love him?”
I stopped.
Just like that.
No warning.
No softer version.
Just truth.
I opened the fridge even though I wasn’t hungry.
Water. Juice. Leftovers.
Anything but that question.
“Amara.”
I shut the fridge.
Still didn’t turn around.
Because some answers are harder when spoken out loud.
Finally, I said quietly, “I don’t know.”
She stayed silent, so I kept going.
“I thought I had moved on. I really did. I built an entire life around not thinking about him. Around proving I was fine. And then I come back here and suddenly it feels like none of that mattered.”
I leaned against the counter.
“It’s like some part of me stayed exactly where I left it.”
Zara’s voice was softer now.
“That doesn’t sound like love disappeared. It sounds like love got interrupted.”
That hit harder than I wanted it to.
I looked down.
“Maybe that’s worse.”
She walked closer.
“Or maybe it means the story was never actually over.”
I laughed quietly.
“You always did love impossible things.”
“And you always confused fear with practicality.”
I looked at her.
She smiled.
Annoyingly.
Accurately.
I sighed.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No. I really don’t.”
She hugged me again.
Lighter this time.
Easier.
And for the first time since coming back, I felt less alone.
TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER......
- Writer
