My Heart Skipped in the Recovery Room のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

The message came in the morning, Short, Unexpected. Like nothing had happened. “Morning. Are you at work today?” I stared at my phone for a few seconds. No explanation. There was no mention of the silence. No acknowledgment of the two days that felt longer than they should have. Just… normal. Like everything was okay. Something about it didn’t sit right with me. It felt cold. Distant. Not like him. Or maybe not like the version of him I had gotten used to. I typed a reply, then paused. Deleted it. Then, i typed again. “Yes.” Simple. Matching his energy. A few minutes later, another message came in. “Let’s meet later.” That was it. No “how are you.” No “sorry I’ve been busy.” Nothing. Just that. I stared at the screen again, my chest tightening slightly. It felt strange. Like I was talking to someone I knew but didn’t fully recognize. I exhaled slowly before replying. “I’m busy today.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. But

I shouldn’t have looked again. But I did. From where I was sitting with my friends, my eyes found him without trying. Like they already knew where to go. And there he was. Laughing. Relaxed. Talking to someone like nothing in the world was complicated. Like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t spent the last two days overthinking him. Something in me tightened but not jealousy this time. Something else. Something quieter but heavier because suddenly, it felt like I was the only one carrying anything. The only one thinking. The only one affected. I looked away quickly, forcing myself to focus on the conversation around me. But it didn’t work. Because once you notice something like that, you can’t unsee it. I picked up my drink, taking a small sip, trying to ground myself. But my mind was already moving and questioning. Was yesterday nothing to him? Was I just… overreacting? I hated that I couldn’t answer that. After a few minutes, I stood up.

The next day felt off. Nothing dramatic happened. No arguments. No tension. Just… absence. And somehow, that was worse than a fight. I woke up earlier than usual, my mind still replaying the night before. The conversation. The way he looked at me, like he was trying to read something I hadn’t said out loud. The things we said… and the things we didn’t. I reached for my phone almost immediately, the way you do when you’re not proud of it but you do it anyway. No message. I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then locked it again, like that would help. It’s fine, I told myself. You just spoke last night. Still… it didn’t feel fine. It felt like a room with the windows open and the curtains still. I had a few things to do that day, so I left the house earlier than planned. Errands. Simple things. Things that were supposed to keep me busy and keep my hands moving. And they did. But not enough. Because no matter what I was doing… my mind kept drifting back to him,

The night didn’t end when he dropped me off. At least… not for me. I got inside, changed into something comfortable, lay on my bed, and stared at the ceiling. But sleep didn’t come. My mind kept replaying everything from earlier. The way he showed up like it was the most natural thing. The hug felt like a reset. The way he said yes so easily when I asked if he missed me, no teasing, no pause. It stayed with me. Too much. In a good way, and also in a way that made my chest feel full. My phone buzzed on the blanket next to me. I picked it up immediately, before I could pretend I wasn’t waiting. Him: Are you sleeping? I stared at the message for a second, my thumb hovering. Then I replied, honestly, before I could edit it. Me: No. Almost instantly,like he was already holding his phone Him: Come outside. I sat up. Me: Now? Him: Yes. I didn’t even ask questions. I didn’t ask why or for how long or what we would do. I just got up, pulled on a ja

The next time I saw him… we didn’t talk about it. Not the way he almost said something. Not the way I waited for it. Nothing. And made everything feel different. Not bad. Just shifted. Like we’d both agreed without saying it that we would let it breathe. He texted me in the evening, the message short the way his messages always are. Him: Come out. No explanation. No “are you free.” Just that. I stared at it for a second, my mouth pulling into a smile before I could stop it. Me: You’re not even trying anymore. Him: You still come out. I shook my head, already standing up, already reaching for my jacket. He was right, and that was annoying in a nice way. He was outside. Again,it was normal now. Like picking me up had become his thing, something he just did without making a big deal about it. I walked toward the car, trying not to look too eager, telling myself to slow down and probably failing. He was leaning against the door, hands in his pocket