Can't get over you

Chapter 5

"You're overreacting. Again."

"I'm not making it a war! I'm trying to talk to you. I need you to talk to me."

Defensiveness. My voice came out sharper than I meant.

"Don't do that. Don't make me feel—"

I took a step back.

"No. That’s anxiety. That’s trauma. That’s me begging you to meet me halfway."

"I’m asking questions because I care. Because I’ve been feeling this distance between us and you act like I’m imagining it."

He looked at me finally.

"Maybe because you are."

"You think what you want, Farah. You always do. You twist every single thing I say until it fits the narrative in your head."

His jaw tensed.

"You flirt with your co-workers in front of me. You leave texts unanswered. You walk in and out like this relationship is just a pit stop for you. What am I supposed to think?"

"The silence between us grew louder. More biting."

He rubbed his temples, the way he always did when he didn’t want to deal.

"You’re taking things way too personally. Again."

Aaron's voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that prickled beneath my skin like a warning. His words were smooth, casual, dismissive—

A blade that didn’t even need to be sharp to cut.

"I can’t keep doing this. I need air."

He exhaled hard and turned to grab his keys.

And then he was gone.

He returned hours later. Quiet. Distant. He walked past me like I was furniture. Not angry. Just... done.

My body ached to reach for him, but my heart couldn’t bear another rejection.

He paused at the door.

"Because arguing with you is like trying to catch smoke. There’s never an end. Never a solution."

He was relaxed. Happy. Charming.

I didn’t speak. Neither did he. I stared at the flickering TV that neither of us was watching.

My shame knew better.

None of it was for me anymore.

I sat across the street from the café where he met his co-workers.

Two women. Smiling. Touching his arm. He laughed the way he used to laugh with me.

I told myself it was just coincidence, that I had errands nearby. But my gut knew better.

When we got home, he showered. I waited until the water drowned out sound.

I opened his phone. I knew his password. I wish I didn’t.

One message stood out:

"Miss you already. Today was too short."

I dropped the phone like it burned me.

I burst into tears.

My stomach dropped.

It exploded out of me in a single sob. Then another. And another.

Tara pulled me into her arms. Held me like I was something precious.

I clung to her like I was drowning.

And she didn’t let go.

"You scared me," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I thought... I thought I lost you."

Water splashed against my cheeks.

"Farah! Farah, please wake up. Please—"

I gasped, coughing. My eyes flew open, wild. Blinding light. Tara’s face hovering above mine.

"Oh my God. You're awake. You're okay. You're okay."

Later, I sat at the dining table, wrapped in a blanket, a cup of tea in my hands.

My laptop blinked. One unread message.

Subject: Interview Outcome - Campaigns Team

I opened my inbox.

I blinked.

The words sat on the screen like a miracle.

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to join our team as a Junior Campaign Strategist.

My heart thudded.

I started to cry.

I smiled. A real one. A shaky one. But mine.

Tara appeared at my side.

"You got it?"

I nodded.

She screamed.

She hugged me tight.

"This hug was different."

"Oh my God! Babe! You did it! You actually—"

"I got the job," I laughed, choked.

"Farah! I was about to call you. Are you okay?"

I nodded. I couldn’t ask. Not today.

I picked up my phone and called Layla.

"Brunch? Tomorrow? I just... I need normal."

"You got it?" she asked.

"Hell yes. I’ll find the place. You just show up looking like a whole goddess."

Maybe it was the start of something.

It was hope.

It was, somehow, survival.

Maybe I could still begin again.