Chapter 1:
The Silence That Spoke
Many people think silence means peace. They believe a silent person to be healed, strong, and
composed. But silence is not always peaceful. Sometimes silence speaks volumes. Sometimes
it yells inside the heart and won't cease.
Near the window of his little apartment, Ayaan Carter sat and watched the rain descending. One
after another, like tears gone astray, droplets of water glided gently down the glass. The city was
vibrant. Cars kept moving, lights flickered, and people walked deliberately. Inside Ayaan,
though, everything seemed to be frozen.
Ayaan had mastered the art of acting at twenty-eight. He knew how to gently grin, concisely
respond to inquiries, and hide feelings behind quiet eyes. People called him calm and mature.
They were unaware of how fatigued he felt each morning when he woke up.
Silence trailed him everywhere.
Rain dragged him back to memories he attempted to erase. His breathing decelerated, and his
chest contracted. He despised evenings such as these. Nights when his thoughts became too
loud and the world too quiet.
He rose and turned from the glass. Stopping always brought back memories. His outlet was
movement. He strode toward the little table close to the couch. Folded and folded many times,
an ancient letter rested on it. As it had lived through too many wars, its borders were fragile.
He never once opened it.
Some pains didn't need reminders.
His phone abruptly vibrated, disturbing the calm of the room. Ayaan gazed at the screen. An
undefined quantity. He almost missed it, but something held him back.
A pop-up message showed up.
I'm back in the city."We ought to chat. Alina"
His heart missed a beat.
Alina.
The moniker had impact. Though gentle, it was clear-cut. Warm but painful. Alina was more
than just someone he had met before. She was the aspect of his existence he battled most to
hide.
His fingertips turned cold. He dropped the phone as though it could harm him.
"No," he mumbled. Not once more.
Five years ago, he had walked away from everything he once valued. Leaving, he thought, was
the sole means of survival. Believing time would eliminate guilt, he created a life of distance and
quietness. But some recollections never go. They silently wait just like she does.
Alina Hayes was standing outside a modest coffee shop throughout the city. She hardly noticed
the cold air. Gathering confidence, she clutched her coat and gazed at the door. Though she
was here, returning had not been part of her strategy.
She had transformed. Her face was more subdued now, and her hair was shorter, yet her eyes
continued to bear sorrow. Pain persists. It learns how to disappear.
She entered the restaurant. Soft music surrounded her along with warmth. The venue seemed
familiar. She picked a seat close to the window. Years ago, she used to sit there with dreams in
her hands and hope in her heart.
She gave a little sorrowful smile.
She thought love could repair broken people back then.
She misinterpreted things.
Alina went to check her phone response. She anticipated silence. Though he rarely talked,
Ayaan always listened. That was who he was. Silent, guarded, far off.
She grabbed a tiny notepad from her bag. Inside lay thoughts she never said and words she
never sent. One phrase was underlined repeatedly.
"If silence could speak, it would weep his name."
Though she dried them away, tears started to form in her eyes. She did not come back to
scream. She returned to complete unfinished business.
Ayaan picked up his phone once again in his flat. He read the note once again. His heart sank
with terror rather than with love—fear of confronting the truth.
He wrote back.
"There is nothing to discuss."
He studied it for a while before removing it.
Another message emerged.
"I'm not here to judge you. All I need is the truth.
Truth.
That word scared him more than rage ever could.
He sat down carefully, his hands shaking. His thoughts drifted back in time. To a period when he
thought he was happy.When Alina's grin felt like security.When errors did not have long-lasting
effects.
Then came the night.
The one time that brought everything down.
His phone buzzed.
He stayed silent.
It chimed once more.
The chamber was silent.
At last, he grabbed it.
Alina's voice said softly, "I know you're there.""You always listen."
Ayaan shut his eyelids.
"What do you want?" he questioned gently.
"I want peace," she replied."You are also the one chapter I never finished."
He said nothing.
"I'm not here to heal wounds," she went."I merely want questions."For both of us,"
"I can't give you peace," Ayaan said honestly.
Then let me speak," she declared."Just once. Not rushing."
Her words cracked something within him.
He said, after a pause, "tomorrow."One meeting."
"That's enough," she answered.
The call had ended.
Ayaan leaned back and gazed at the ceiling. His heart weighed heavily now. Meeting her meant
opening gates he had shut long ago. It implied confronting the regret he never pardoned himself
for.
The rain outside subsided, but the storm within him intensified.
Some stories do not start with love.
They start with nothing.
And the will to finally listen.