Two years.
It wasn't long enough to forget.
It wasn't short enough to be ignored.
Ayla's friends from school had thought that with time, she might finally move on—that perhaps distance and reality would force her to let go of the love she held onto so tightly. But they were wrong.
She didn't forget. She didn't try to forget.
Whenever Amy tried to make her understand, to tell her that Silas had never reciprocated, that he had never once looked her way with the same longing, Ayla remained stubborn.
"It's my love, Amy," she had said, her voice firm but soft. "It's one-sided, but that doesn't matter. It's mine alone."
Amy was frustrated beyond words.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she exploded one day, voice trembling with anger. "Why do you keep hurting yourself like this? Why do you love someone who never even noticed you?"
Ayla didn't have an answer.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Amy sighed, her expression torn between anger and concern. "I hate seeing you like this, Ayla. I really do."
That night, Ayla couldn't hold it in anymore. She broke down, her shoulders shaking as she curled into herself, sobbing like a child.
Amy, despite her frustration, wrapped her arms around her.
She coaxed her, whispered soft reassurances, running her fingers through Ayla's hair like a mother comforting her daughter.
"You deserve more," she murmured. "So much more."
But Ayla knew.
No matter how much Amy wished for her to move on, she never could.
She never would.
And that was why, when she heard about their school's Golden Jubilee celebration, she decided to go back.
---
Ayla had nowhere to stay when she returned to the city, so Amy let her stay at her house for the week.
She tried to act normal, to pretend she wasn't here for one person and one person alone.
But Amy knew.
And it drove her insane.
"You're actually hoping to see him?" she asked one night, watching Ayla scroll through her phone absentmindedly.
Ayla smiled, the same bittersweet smile she always wore when it came to Silas.
"Just a glance," she admitted softly. "That's enough."
Amy felt helpless.
"You're impossible," she muttered, shaking her head.
For days, Ayla tried to contain her excitement.
The thought of seeing Silas again, even if just from a distance, made her heart race.
But then—her dream was shattered.
Amy, who had been in contact with a few of their old classmates, turned to her with an apologetic expression one evening.
"Ayla…" she started hesitantly.
Ayla immediately knew something was wrong.
"What is it?" she asked, feeling a strange tightness in her chest.
Amy hesitated before sighing. "Silas won't be coming."
The words felt like a slap.
"What?"
"He has an event at his university. He won't be attending."
Ayla froze.
The weight of the disappointment crashed over her like a tidal wave.
It wasn't unexpected—she had no right to expect anything.
But still, it hurt.
Her fingers curled into the bedsheet, her lips pressing together tightly.
That night, she tried to sleep, but the ache in her chest wouldn't let her.
She curled up next to Amy, her back trembling slightly.
Amy sighed and pulled her closer. "Ayla, please. Stop doing this to yourself."
Ayla couldn't answer.
Because if she did, she would break apart.
---
The evening of the event arrived.
Ayla forced herself to attend, even though every step she took felt heavy.
She tried to enjoy herself, tried to smile at old classmates, but deep down, she felt empty.
And just when she was about to leave the venue, her phone rang.
It was her cousin—the only cousin from her father's side who still spoke to her, who never judged her mother for leaving her abusive husband, who knew everything about her but never criticized.
She picked up with a tired voice.
"Brother…"
Before she could say anything else, she tripped.
The ground beneath her was uneven, and she felt herself falling—
Until a strong hand caught her arm.
She gasped, body freezing as she turned— And saw him.
Silas.
He was standing right behind her, holding her arm, his grip firm but not painful.
Her heart stopped.
For a moment, the world blurred.
She couldn't believe it.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
He was supposed to be at his university.
Why?
Before she could say a word, he let go.
Without a second glance, he walked away, heading towards his group of friends.
Ayla felt like she had forgotten how to breathe.
She immediately lifted her phone, her voice trembling with excitement as she whispered into the call—
"Brother… Brother… I saw him!"
Her cousin chuckled softly.
But he didn't say what he was thinking.
That she was still hopelessly in love.