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77
New York, Mia
Morning broke with its gentle light filtering through the curtains of my bedroom, casting a warm, soft glow across the room. It was a new day, but the absence of a message from Sebastian on my phone weighed heavily on my heart, leaving me with a sense of sadness that clung like a shadow.
The night before had been difficult, marked by our first real argument. It was an unpleasant experience, one I had never wanted to face, especially with the person I loved deeply. The raw emotions that had emerged during our disagreement still lingered in the corners of my mind.
As I glanced at my phone, its screen void of any message, my heart sank. I missed the usual morning text from Sebastian, the one that started our day with affection and warmth. But after last night’s dispute, things had taken an unexpected turn.NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.
Our argument had been about moving to Los Angeles. Sebastian had proposed the idea, convinced that it was the best way to ensure my safety, considering the recent release of my father from jail. But I couldn’t bring myself to make that decision. My life, my work, and my roots were firmly planted in New York, and the thought of moving to LA seemed like an upheaval I wasn’t ready to embrace.
With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the events of the previous night. Our voices had risen, and our emotions had flared. It was a clash of strong wills, a testament to the depth of our feelings and concerns. It was the first time our love had faced such a significant challenge, and it had left me with a sense of melancholy that was hard to shake.
I had always thought of our love as a source of strength, something that could weather any storm. Yet, our first fight had been a stark reminder of the complexities that life could bring, even into the most loving of relationships.
As I lay in bed, I couldn’t help but mull over the arguments on both sides. Sebastian’s concern for my safety was genuine, and I couldn’t dismiss it. My father’s sudden release had injected uncertainty into our lives, and it was clear that Sebastian’s proposal came from a place of love and fear for my well-being.
But my attachment to New York ran deep. This city had been my home for years, the place where I had built my career, and it held a multitude of cherished memories. The thought of uprooting my life was unsettling, even in the face of legitimate concerns.
My phone’s silence weighed on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to send a message either. The idea of prolonging our disagreement, of not resolving the tension that hung between us, was disheartening. I loved Sebastian deeply, and the distance that had come between us after our argument was a painful reminder of what was at stake.
The day unfolded, a slow and somber procession of hours marked by an uncomfortable silence from Sebastian. As I stood in the bathroom, I turned on the shower, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would text me later. The steady stream of warm water cascaded over me, providing a brief respite from the weight of the unanswered messages.
With a heavy heart, I stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel as droplets of water clung to my skin. The steam-filled bathroom seemed to mirror the fog of uncertainty that had descended between Sebastian and me. I dried off, dressed, and took extra care with my hair, trying to regain a semblance of normalcy.
As I left the bathroom, my phone lay silently on the dresser, a solemn sentinel of my hopes and fears. I couldn’t help but check it once more, finding no new messages from him. The unanswered “hi” that I had sent earlier still lingered in my messages, marked “delivered” but without a response.
Feeling a gnawing emptiness in my chest, I decided to focus on other parts of my day. I ventured into the kitchen and prepared breakfast, the act mechanical and devoid of the usual enjoyment. A smoothie, a few slices of fruit, and a cup of coffee were all consumed in solitude. The taste of each bite and sip was marred by the lingering absence of Sebastian’s usual morning messages.
Despite the heaviness in my heart, I moved on to my morning exercises, determined to maintain some semblance of routine. But my usual energy was dampened, my movements less fluid, as my mind continued to grapple with the lack of communication from the person I loved.
By midday, the sun shone brightly outside, casting long shadows through the windows. The day was slipping away, and I couldn’t ignore the reality any longer. There were still no messages from Sebastian, no indication of when we might reconcile.
As the evening drew near, I found myself seated at the dinner table, the meal before me barely touched. Bella, my ever-watchful friend, noticed the sadness in my eyes and approached, concern etched across her face.
“Is he still not messaging you?” Bella asked gently, her eyes moving from me to my untouched dinner.
I sighed, a heavy, defeated sound. “No, Bella, there’s still nothing. I can’t understand why.”
“You need to eat,” Bella insisted, her tone filled with worry.
With a sigh, I poked at my food with my fork, finding little appetite in the midst of my unease. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Sebastian, and I could hardly focus on the food before me.
Bella continued to watch me with a caring expression. “Have you tried texting him?” she asked.
My phone lay nearby, and I reached for it, sending another simple “hi” to Sebastian in the hope that it might prompt a response. My message was sent, but it lingered with the status “delivered,” with no sign of a reply from him.
Bella offered a comforting squeeze of my shoulder. “He’s probably very busy, you know, with work and everything. I’m sure he’ll get back to you soon.”
The hope in her words was both reassuring and unsettling. I wanted to believe that he was simply busy, that our argument hadn’t left a lasting rift between us. But the silence from him had a way of breeding doubt, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the situation.