CHAPTER EIGHT
1969 Words
A STRANGER BEHIND A SCREEN
Several months had passed since Daniel.
Several months since Adrian.
The leaves had begun changing colour again, and Westbridge looked almost unfamiliar beneath the gold and amber trees.
Evelyn had learned how to function again.
Not live.
Just function.
She attended lectures.
Submitted essays.
Smiled when classmates greeted her.
But the laughter that once came so naturally had disappeared.
Charlotte often watched her from across the apartment kitchen.
“You know…”
“What?”
“You haven’t smiled with your eyes in months.”
Evelyn simply looked down at her coffee.
——————
One Saturday afternoon she met Ethan Walker.
He wasn’t actually her neighbour.
He was visiting one of the tenants in the building—Oliver Grant, a postgraduate student Evelyn had become friendly with after months of sharing the same apartment complex.
Oliver and Ethan studied in the same department and had been close friends since their first year.
The moment Ethan saw Evelyn carrying grocery bags through the entrance, he stopped mid-conversation.
Oliver noticed immediately.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless.”
Ethan laughed.
“I’ve never seen someone that beautiful carrying six shopping bags by herself.”
Oliver rolled his eyes.
“You’ve known her for three seconds.”
“I stand by my statement.”
The following weekend Ethan visited again.
Then again.
Eventually Oliver began teasing him.
“You aren’t visiting me anymore.”
“I absolutely am.”
“No.”
Oliver grinned.
“You’re visiting the History girl upstairs.”
Ethan didn’t deny it.
Unlike many of the English students around them, Ethan had grown up in the same country as Evelyn before moving abroad years earlier.
They spoke about home.
Foods they missed.
Childhood memories.
The strange feeling of belonging to two places and neither at the same time.
For the first time in months…
Conversation felt effortless.
——————-
Just before Evelyn left to spend the Christmas holidays with her family, Ethan walked with her to the train station.
“I suppose this is goodbye.”
“For three weeks.”
“That feels longer.”
She smiled.
“You’ll survive.”
“Will I?”
He hesitated.
“Can I have your number?”
She almost said no.
Almost.
Instead, she unlocked her phone.
Days go by and Soon,Their messages became part of her daily routine.
Good morning.
Have you eaten?
I wish you were here.
I’ve never met anyone like you.
One evening Ethan finally wrote:
I know you aren’t ready.
But I’d still like the chance to love you.
Evelyn stared at the message for several minutes.
Perhaps…
She thought…
Not everyone leaves.
She replied with one sentence.
Let’s see where this goes.
——————
When the new semester began, Ethan met her at the station.
He hugged her as though they’d been apart for years instead of weeks.
For a while…
Everything felt easy.
She slowly allowed herself to believe that perhaps life really did offer second chances.
The illusion lasted barely two months.
It began with whispers.
Then messages.
Then a woman introducing herself outside the department building.
“I didn’t know Ethan had another girlfriend.”
Evelyn laughed awkwardly.
“I think you’ve mistaken me for someone.”
The woman looked confused.
“No.”
She held up a photograph on her phone.
It was Ethan.
His arm around another woman.
Taken only days earlier.
By the end of the week…
There wasn’t just one woman.
There were several.
Different departments.
Different residences.
Different promises.
Ethan had been telling each of them they were the only one.
—————
The Cold breeze of the morning hit hard at her face,reminding her of the pain that was resurfacing again.
“Not again…”
“No no no NO”
She screamed loudly.
It was just her at home, Charlotte had left the day before to attend to a home call.
“Why is all this happening” a drop of tear trailed down her cheeks.
“ I thought he was different,”
Same heartbreak but a different story.
She got up,went into the bathroom and quickly got ready to confront Ethan.
She met him just outside his home at Westbrook Street.
“I loved you.”
Evelyn’s voice barely rose above a whisper.
Ethan avoided her eyes.
“Well I’m sorry,you have to move on.”
“Just like that ?…”
“You told me we had a future.”
“I changed my mind.”
The words landed harder than shouting ever could.
The Shame.
She couldn’t imagine the amount of eyes on her as she walked back home embarrassed by that incident.
Breaking up wasn’t the hardest part.
Living with it was.
She became convinced people were laughing behind her back.
First Daniel.
Then Adrian.
Now Ethan.
She imagined classmates whispering whenever she entered a room.
“She’s done it again.”
“Another failed relationship.”
The shame consumed her.
Against every instinct…
She called Ethan.
“Can we try again?”
He sighed.
“I’ve moved on.”
Within weeks he was publicly dating someone else.
Then someone after her.
Then another.
————-
It was hard to pick up the pieces.
For days she couldn’t eat.
She sobbed all through in the arms of several close course mates.
Months past, she slowly started moving on and finally decided to let loose.
She met a few guys but just flirted with them.Most of them never a serious thing to her,
As she never got attached or got down with most.
She was just having the time of her life and soon after, she meets Dylan.
—————
Several months later, while still emotionally numb,
Evelyn scrolls through i********: while watching a news page,an account pops up following her.
His name , Dylan Brooks, a charming, witty young man from another city.
Their relationship begins through long conversations, late-night calls, and video chats.
Dylan becomes the first person who makes her laugh without making her feel guilty.
Evelyn is cautious because of Daniel and Adrian.
Dylan patiently earns her trust.
After several months they finally meet in person.
For nearly three months, Dylan Brooks had existed only behind a screen.
A profile picture.
Late-night voice notes.
Video calls that stretched long past midnight.
The occasional blurry photograph of whatever café he happened to be working from that day.
It wasn’t how Evelyn had imagined meeting someone she cared about.
After everything that had happened, it had actually felt… safer.
Distance gave her time to think.
Time to breathe.
Time to end things if something felt wrong.
Dylan had never rushed her.
He never pressured her into talking when she wasn’t ready.
When she disappeared for a day because memories became too heavy, he simply sent a message that read:
“I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
No questions.
No guilt.
No demands.
It was one of the reasons she hadn’t walked away.
So when he told her he would be passing through Westbridge for a conference and asked whether she would finally let him take her for coffee, she surprised herself by saying yes.
⸻
She arrived twenty minutes early.
Not because she was eager.
Because she was nervous.
She chose a table beside the window of a quiet café overlooking the old town square.
Outside, autumn had painted the trees in shades of amber and gold.
Students hurried past with scarves wrapped tightly around their necks, balancing books and takeaway coffees.
Evelyn watched them absent-mindedly.
Her fingers tightened around the warm mug in front of her.
What if he’s completely different?
What if I’ve made another mistake?
The bell above the café door chimed.
She looked up.
Dylan stood in the doorway, scanning the room until his eyes found hers.
For a brief moment, neither of them moved.
Then he smiled.
It was exactly the smile she had seen on countless video calls.
Warm.
A little shy.
Entirely genuine.
He crossed the room.
“So…”
He laughed softly.
“You’re real.”
Evelyn couldn’t help smiling.
“I was about to say the same thing.”
He stopped beside the table.
“May I?”
She nodded.
“Of course.”
⸻
For the first few minutes, conversation felt strangely awkward.
They had spoken almost every day for months.
Yet sitting across from one another somehow felt like meeting for the very first time.
“I thought you’d be taller,” Evelyn admitted.
He laughed.
“I get that a lot.”
“I don’t know why.”
“My camera angle lies.”
“It definitely does.”
He pointed at her teasingly.
“And you laugh exactly the same in person.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It’s my favourite thing.”
She looked away, feeling warmth rise to her cheeks.
She hadn’t blushed in a very long time.
⸻
As the afternoon unfolded, the awkwardness slowly disappeared.
They wandered through the town centre, stopping outside little bookshops and antique stores.
Dylan insisted on buying roasted chestnuts from a street vendor, only to admit after the first bite that he didn’t actually like them.
“You’ve never had them before?”
“No.”
“Then why did you buy them?”
“They looked romantic.”
Evelyn laughed so hard she nearly dropped the paper bag he handed her.
“That’s your reason?”
“I panicked.”
“You panic by buying food?”
“I panic creatively.”
She shook her head.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’ve been told.”
“And yet…”
She smiled.
“…it’s strangely endearing.”
He grinned.
“I’ll take that.”
As evening settled over Westbridge, they found themselves walking beside the river.
The water reflected the golden glow of the streetlamps.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
It wasn’t uncomfortable.
It simply wasn’t necessary.
Finally, Dylan broke the silence.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
He laughed.
“You know what I mean.”
She nodded.
“What is it?”
“Why did you agree to meet me?”
She thought about the question carefully.
“Because you were patient.”
He waited.
“You never tried to rescue me.”
She looked out across the river.
“You never acted as though loving me would fix whatever was broken.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“I don’t think people are puzzles.”
“No?”
“No.”
“I think they’re stories.”
She turned to look at him.
“Some stories arrive halfway through.”
He smiled gently.
“And that’s okay.”
The words settled somewhere deep inside her.
For months she had believed she would forever be defined by the chapters she wished she could erase.
Listening to Dylan, she wondered whether life really did allow people to begin again.
⸻
When they reached her apartment building, Dylan stopped at the entrance.
“I had a really good day.”
“So did I.”
“I’d like to do it again.”
She smiled.
“I think I’d like that too.”
He hesitated, almost as though asking permission without using words.
She understood.
Instead of stepping back, she moved forward.
He wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace.
It lasted only a few seconds.
No promises were made.
No declarations of love.
Only the quiet comfort of two people discovering that sometimes hope returned not with fireworks—
but with a simple cup of coffee, shared laughter, and the courage to believe that tomorrow might not look exactly like yesterday.
- Writer
