THE PULL

Maya always knew when Tobi would drift into her life again—usually around 11 p.m., when loneliness mixed with ego and he remembered she existed. And tonight was no different. Her phone lit up with his name, the same name she had promised herself to stop answering.

“Outside.”

Just one word. No hello. No explanation. No effort.

Still, her heart skipped—annoyed at herself for reacting.

She didn’t go outside. She stayed by the window, watching him lean on his car like he owned her time. The streetlights glinted off the rims of his black SUV, and she noticed the faint crease of his jaw, the way the streetlight caught the glint of his watch. Every detail was etched into her memory, even the ones she pretended to have forgotten.

After five minutes, he called.

“Maya, stop forming. I just want to talk.”

She opened her mouth to answer—but another vibration came in.

A message. From Adrian.

“Just checking on you. Did you eat?”

Simple. Soft. Considerate.

Everything Tobi never was.

Maya stood there with two men pulling her in opposite directions—one with chaos, one with care. One who felt familiar, one who felt safe.

Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she closed her eyes, letting herself imagine a life where every evening didn’t feel like an emotional battlefield. A life where messages didn’t come like testaments of guilt but of genuine concern.

Tobi knocked on her door.

Adrian’s message was still open on her screen.

Two men.

Two versions of love.

One decision she wasn’t ready to make.

Maya’s hand hovered over the door handle, trembling. She could hear her own heartbeat echo in her ears. It was like a drum reminding her of past mistakes, a warning she wasn’t sure she wanted to heed.

Another knock came—harder this time.

“Maya,” Tobi called, irritation slipping into his voice. “I know you’re in there.”

She swallowed. He always did this—demanded her presence like it was owed, like her boundaries were a suggestion. And the worst part? She had once allowed it.

Her phone buzzed again.

Adrian:

“You don’t have to reply. I just wanted you to know you’re not alone tonight.”

Her breath caught.

That was the difference.

Tobi took.

Adrian noticed.

She leaned her forehead against the door, memories rushing in—late-night arguments, apologies that sounded rehearsed, affection given only when it suited him. Loving Tobi had always felt like standing in a storm, convincing herself the rain was worth it. She remembered the nights she stayed awake, waiting for a call that never came, the emptiness that followed his sudden disappearances. The pain wasn’t in the argument itself—it was in the indifference, the way he could storm back in as if nothing had happened, and she would let him. Always let him.

Another knock.

“I’m not here to fight,” Tobi said, softer now. “I just… I needed to see you.”

Needed. Not wanted. Needed.

Maya closed her eyes, and for a brief second, something strange stirred inside her chest—warm, steady, unfamiliar. A quiet pull, like the moon tugging at unseen tides. She didn’t understand it, but it calmed her.

Her phone screen dimmed, Adrian’s last message still glowing faintly.

Care didn’t shout.

Safety didn’t knock aggressively.

Real love didn’t leave bruises on the heart.

She straightened, inhaled deeply, and stepped back from the door.

Outside, Tobi waited—confident she’d open it like always. The streetlight caught his sharp profile, the slight smirk that once made her knees weak. But tonight, she didn’t feel weak. Not in the way she used to. Tonight, she felt… deliberate.

The wind rustled the curtains, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from her neighbor’s garden. She realized she hadn’t smelled it before, hadn’t noticed the small, normal things around her while her heart was always bracing for storms. Tonight, the night felt quiet but not empty.

Tobi shifted, glanced down at his phone, then back at her window. His confidence flickered for a heartbeat, though she didn’t let herself smile. She wasn’t his anymore—not fully. Not like before.

And yet, a small part of her still remembered him, still knew the way he could make laughter spill from her lips even after a day full of tears.

She unlocked the door slowly, letting the faint click echo in the hallway. Tobi’s eyes followed her every move, calculating, expectant. But he wasn’t prepared for what waited inside—what she had become in the months he thought she’d remain the same.

Tonight, the Luna he never expected was beginning to wake.

And she wasn’t just opening a door—she was opening a possibility.

The door opened just enough to remind Tobi he hadn’t been invited in.

“Maya,” he said, relief flashing across his face before settling into confidence. “There you are.”

She didn’t step aside. She stood barefoot on the cool tiled floor, wrapped in an oversized hoodie that once belonged to him but now felt like armor instead of comfort. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, a few curls escaping around her face. No makeup. No performance. Just her.

“What do you want?” she asked quietly.

Tobi chuckled, the sound familiar and irritating all at once. “Is that how you talk to me now?”

To me.

Like ownership never expired.

“I asked what you want,” she repeated.

He glanced past her shoulder into the apartment—the dim lighting, the soft glow from a lamp in the corner, the calmness that didn’t include him. It unsettled him. He stepped forward instinctively, and Maya instinctively stepped back.

That was new.

“I just needed to see you,” he said again, softer, like that should undo everything. “You’ve been acting strange lately. Distant.”

“I’ve been peaceful,” she corrected.

That made him frown.

She moved aside finally, allowing him in—not because she owed him, but because she was tired of fear pretending to be caution. The door closed behind him with a quiet click that felt louder than thunder.

Tobi took off his jacket, draping it over a chair like he belonged there. Like he always had.

“You couldn’t reply my text,” he said. “You couldn’t come outside. But you can stand here and act brand new?”

Maya folded her arms. “You don’t get to show up unannounced and interrogate me.”

He stared at her, really stared this time. Something had shifted. It wasn’t just her tone—it was the steadiness in her eyes. The absence of apology.

“You used to miss me,” he said.

“I used to miss the idea of you,” she replied.

Silence.

The words surprised even her.

Tobi scoffed. “So what’s this about? There’s someone else, right?”

Her phone vibrated softly on the table behind her.

She didn’t look.

“You don’t have to make everything about competition,” she said.

“But it is,” he snapped. “Because you don’t just wake up and stop wanting me.”

Maya felt that strange warmth again—steady, grounding. Like something ancient stirring beneath her ribs.

“No,” she said calmly. “You wake up and realize wanting someone isn’t the same as being safe with them.”

He stepped closer, voice dropping. “I never hurt you.”

Her laugh was quiet. Tired.

“You didn’t have to,” she said. “Neglect can wound just as deep.”

Tobi’s jaw tightened. “So I’m the villain now?”

“No,” Maya said. “You’re just… not the hero.”

Another vibration.

This time, she glanced at her phone.

Adrian:

“Whatever you’re facing tonight, I hope you remember your worth.”

Her throat tightened. Not because of romance—but because of recognition.

Tobi saw the shift. “Who’s that?” he demanded.

Maya locked her screen and met his gaze. “Someone who doesn’t knock like he’s breaking down my spirit.”

That did it.

“You’re choosing a stranger over me?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m choosing myself,” she said.

The words settled into the room like a verdict.

Tobi laughed again, but there was no humor in it. “You’ll regret this.”

Maya walked to the door and opened it wide.

“Goodnight, Tobi.”

He stared at her, searching for the girl who used to chase closure, beg for clarity, shrink herself to keep him comfortable.

She wasn’t there.

He left without another word.

When the door closed, Maya didn’t collapse. She didn’t cry. She stood still, hand pressed to her chest, breathing through the unfamiliar calm.

Outside, the moon hung full and luminous—watching.

Inside her, something had awakened.

The Luna he never expected had chosen herself first.

And this time, she would not go back to sleep.