Chapter three:The quiet change

After his apology, things looked normal.

At least on the outside.

He still walked me to class.

Still called me at night.

Still used the same pet names like nothing had cracked between us.

But something had.

And it wasn’t loud.

It was the way I now paused before replying his texts.

The way I listened instead of rushing to explain myself.

The way my heart stopped running ahead of him.

Before, love made me careless.

Now, love made me observant.

He started acting sweeter.

Too sweet.

He checked on me more. Bought snacks I didn’t ask for. Held my hand longer in public, like he was trying to convince the world — and maybe himself — that we were fine.

“You see?” he said one evening. “Everything is okay now.”

I nodded.

But okay felt different when trust was no longer complete.

Sometimes, while he talked, I watched his eyes instead of listening to his words. I noticed how they shifted when his phone buzzed. How his smile froze for half a second before he reached for it. How he always stepped aside to reply.

Small things.

Painful things.

Once, while we were studying together, his phone vibrated on the bed.

He turned it face down quickly.

Again.

My chest tightened, but my face stayed calm.

“You’re popular,” I said softly.

He laughed. “Just school stuff.”

School stuff.

Funny how school stuff always needed privacy.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t beg. I didn’t accuse. I surprised myself.

I stayed quiet.

And in that quiet, I felt myself changing.

Not colder.

Not bitter.

Just… careful.

There was a time when love made me fearless. Now, love made me thoughtful. I started asking questions inside my head before giving my heart freely again.

That night in my room, I sat on my bed and stared at the wall longer than usual.

Why did loving him suddenly feel like guarding myself?

Why did being with him make me alert instead of safe?

I whispered, “Maybe love isn’t supposed to feel like this.”

The room didn’t answer.

But my heart did.

It said: Pay attention.

I remembered how I used to laugh easily around him. How I used to feel light. Now, even when he smiled, something in me stayed awake, counting moments, watching movements, protecting feelings.

Not because I wanted to leave.

But because I was learning to stop losing myself.

That was the strange part.

I still loved him.

But I was starting to love me too.

And sometimes, loving yourself begins with noticing when someone else is slowly teaching you how not to.

I lay back on my bed, phone in hand, staring at his last message:

I miss you.

Before, I would have replied instantly.

Now, I took a breath first.

cleared my head and started to think of something else just to distract myself it hurts a lot.

I try to avoid thinking of it

But what can i do??