The city didn't change.
It was still loud.
Still crowded.
Still moving too fast.
But something between us had slowed down.
After that night by the riverwalk, Riya and I didn't stop talking—but we didn't talk the same way either. Messages became shorter. Calls became fewer. And meetings… almost disappeared.
Distance doesn't always come with goodbye.
Sometimes, it comes quietly.
Trying to Act Normal
At work, I pretended everything was fine.
Emails sent.
Meetings attended.
Smiles exchanged.
But inside, my thoughts kept drifting back to her.
Is she okay?
Is she closing those doors she talked about?
Or am I just slowly being pushed out?
The city teaches you patience, but it also teaches you doubt.
An Unexpected Call
Late one evening, my phone rang.
Riya.
I answered immediately. "Hey."
"Can we meet?" she asked. Her voice sounded unsure. "Just for a few minutes."
"Of course," I said. "Where?"
"The old bookstore street," she replied. "The quiet one."
That choice told me this conversation mattered.
Meeting After Distance
She was already there when I arrived, standing under a dim streetlight, arms folded, eyes lost somewhere far away.
"You look tired," I said gently.
"So do you," she replied with a small smile.
We walked slowly past closed shops and old posters peeling from walls. The city felt older here. Slower. Honest.
"I didn't disappear on purpose," she said suddenly. "I just… needed space."
"I know," I replied. "But space feels different when you don't know what it means."
She stopped walking.
"That's why I asked you to meet," she said. "I don't want misunderstandings to grow between us."
Words That Matter
She took a deep breath.
"I'm trying to fix things from my past. Properly. And it's messy. Emotionally exhausting. I didn't want to pull you into it."
I nodded. "But when you shut me out, I feel like I'm already in it—just without knowing where I stand."
She looked at me, eyes filled with guilt. "I never wanted you to feel unsure."
"I don't need perfection," I said quietly. "I just need clarity."
The Honest Answer
There was a long silence.
Then she said, "I care about you, Tom. More than I planned to. More than I expected."
My heart tightened.
"But I'm scared," she continued. "Scared of depending on someone again. Scared of getting comfortable and losing it."
I looked at her. "I'm scared too. But I'd rather be scared together than distant apart."
Her eyes softened.
Not Love, But Something Real
She reached out—not to hold my hand, but to rest her fingers lightly against mine.
"I can't promise everything will be smooth," she said.
"I'm not asking for smooth," I replied. "I'm asking for honest."
She nodded. "Then don't walk away."
"I won't," I said. "As long as we keep talking."
A Gentle Restart
We walked a little longer, closer than before, though not holding hands.
This wasn't a dramatic reunion.
This wasn't a confession.
It was something quieter.
An understanding.
Sometimes love doesn't move forward in big steps—it inches its way back after almost slipping.
That Night
Back home, staring out at the city lights, I realized something important.
Distance doesn't always mean the end.
Sometimes, it's a test.
And if two people are willing to meet again—honestly—then maybe the city hasn't won yet.
Episode 13 Hook
Will Riya finally close the doors to her past?
Can Tom stay patient without losing himself?