The Boy I Couldn't Forgive

Five years was a long time. At least, that was what Amara had told herself every morning since she left. Five years was enough time to forget someone’s voice. Enough time to stop remembering the exact way they smiled when they were trying not to laugh. Enough time for anger to become nothing more than an old scar hidden beneath everyday life. At least, that was what Amara believed. Until she saw him again. She was standing outside the hotel ballroom, holding a tray of champagne glasses she wasn’t supposed to be carrying, when a familiar voice came from behind her. “Amara?” Her fingers tightened around the tray. No. It couldn’t be. She turned slowly. And there he was. Daniel. For a moment, everything around her disappeared. The music from the ballroom became distant. The conversations blurred into meaningless noise. Even the people walking past seemed to move in slow motion. Daniel hadn’t changed as much as she expected. His hair was shorter now. His face looked sharper, more mature. He wore a black suit that fitted him perfectly, and there was something different about his eyes. He looked older. More serious. But she knew those eyes. She had spent years trying to forget them. Daniel stared at her. Neither of them spoke. Then his lips parted. “You really are here.” Amara swallowed. “Apparently.” His eyebrows pulled together. “I’ve been looking for you.” She almost laughed. “Why?” He didn’t answer immediately. That irritated her more than anything. Five years. Five years without a single explanation, and now he was standing in front of her as if they had simply been separated for a weekend. Amara shifted the tray in her hands. “I have to go.” His voice stopped her. “Wait.” She closed her eyes. She had promised herself that if she ever saw him again, she would walk away. No questions. No explanations. No reopening old wounds. She turned back. “What?” Daniel stepped closer. “I didn’t know you worked here.” “I don’t.” “Then why are you—” “I was helping a friend.” “Oh.” Silence. Amara looked toward the ballroom. “I really need to go.” “Amara.” She looked at him one last time. “What?” His expression changed. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t understand. “I never stopped looking for you.” Her heart stumbled. But she refused to let him see it. “That’s not my problem.” She walked away. She didn’t look back. Not even once. But the entire night, she could feel his eyes following her. And when she finally returned home, exhausted and angry with herself, she found a message waiting on her phone. Unknown Number. Can we talk? She stared at it. Then another message arrived. Please. Just once. Amara knew exactly who it was. Daniel. She deleted the messages. Or at least, she tried to. Her finger hovered over the screen for several seconds before she finally locked her phone. She told herself she didn’t care. She told herself she had moved on. But when she closed her eyes that night, she remembered the last time she’d seen him. And this time, she remembered everything