34.

Anwar's pov:



I stared at my phone screen. Several plans swirled in my head after receiving messagesfrom the modeling agency and Matthew Jero, the photographer who was supposed to fly toIreland for the shoot with us. He had a last-minute emergency. We had to choose betweenflying out a week earlier or sticking to the original date and changing photographers. Jerowas willing to cover the costs if we went with the latter.

I didn't have a problem with changing photographers, but Jennifer insisted she wanted onlythis photographer for this collection.

A week earlier... it wasn't impossible.

I rushed to finish all my work because I wanted to spend as much time as possible with Bluebefore he returned to Thailand. Actually, today was the last day. After pulling all-nighters,running around talking to technicians and then rushing back to manage my own clothinglineup, everything finally wrapped up at ten o'clock sharp.

If I sleep now, I can wake up and drive to Blue's room at Rome's place this evening.

A shuffling sound from the stairs made me turn. When I saw who it was, I raised an eyebrowslightly, staring silently without speaking.

"What?" Jordan asked curtly. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Disappearing for days or making Audrey cry-which are you referring to?"

"Both," Jordan frowned, walking to the counter and starting to toast some bread. The smellof alcohol wafted from him.

"What happened at Bree's party?" I asked, dropping my pen on the bar counter and proppingmy chin up on my hand.

Jordan glanced at me for a second before returning to his carton of milk and whatever elsehe was staring at.

"Nothing happened."

"Who's the liar this time?" I retorted. "Jasper would definitely rat you out if he knew whathappened at the party."

"He probably knows. He was glued to Bree all night, wasn't he?"

"But did it have to end with her crying?" I raised an eyebrow, mirroring Jordan's action as helifted his carton of milk for a swig, acting as if our conversation was utterly insignificant.

"I don't want a girlfriend right now, especially not someone in... you know... the group. It'snot like I wanted her to cry."

"Listen to yourself," I laughed, though there was nothing funny about it. I decided to leaveJordan to his own devices and looked back down at my phone screen. "I have to go toIreland a week earlier. I'm leaving next Friday. I won't be gone for more than four or fivedays. Do whatever you want, just don't throw a party here."

"I'm sick of parties," Jordan said flatly. The sound of the toaster interrupted him. He grabbedthe toast and tossed it onto a plate carelessly, spread Nutella on it, and walked straight tothe sofa.

"Lying again," I shook my head. The smell of alcohol on him was stronger than the smell ofalmost burnt toast.

"Leave me alone. Let's talk about your problems. You two fought, right?""We're good."

"Good, then. Have you thought about what you'll do after he goes back to Thailand?"

"I haven't thought about it," I replied curtly. "Truthfully, I had considered it, but I still couldn'tsee where it was going. I still have a deadline to meet. Making a whole collection of clothesfor a fashion show is no joke. It sucks up all my time and energy. Even if Blue was just inNew York, we barely saw each other during that time, unless he slept at the studio with me.Forget about living in different countries; it's impossible. I can't magically teleport myself tosee him while my other foot has to be on the sewing machine, or my hands are creasingfabric onto mannequins."

"Breaking up just because you live in different countries is ridiculous. Sounds petty. Myfriend will manage it, right?"

I raised an eyebrow, grabbing my MacBook and sketchbook from the bar, preparing to goback to my room. "Yeah, that's why I don't want to become a loser because of something likethat. But... liking each other, being close, but not dating... that sounds even more pathetic.I'm glad my friend isn't that pathetic. Not having a girlfriend is good. This time, you won'thave to waste time mending a broken heart from afar."

"Go to hell, Anwar."

The alarm clock shrieked, jolting me awake. It first went off at 4:30 before I snoozed itrepeatedly until 5:00. I finally managed to pull myself out of bed. The room was completelydark until I got up and yanked open the curtains. I showered, changed, and brushed myteeth. Blue must have been back in his room a while ago, but if I don't sleep and drivestraight through, I'll probably rear-end someone before I reach my destination. When I wentoutside, Jordan was gone. He probably found some excuse to go out drinking or dowhatever else he does to kill time. And he'll probably continue living like this until the newsemester starts.

I never really cared about the love lives of the people around me. Who dates who or breaksup with who. Audrey and Jordan had a secret crush on each other for a long time beforeJordan decided to date someone else just to avoid ruining the dynamics of our group. That'swhy things are so awkward now. They can't go back to being just friends, but nor can theymove forward. During the time Jordan dated Vanessa, he and Audrey avoided each other asmuch as possible, barely even talking. Seeing each other now and acting this way isn'thelping anything. It's only prolonging this awkward situation.

But, it's none of my business anyway.

"I've arrived."

I read Blue's last message, sent a few hours ago. Today is Friday. I glanced at the date onmy phone screen before grabbing a t-shirt and pants. Either way, I've finished all my work.Tonight, if I don't sleep here, I'll probably sleep there.

Before I could reply, an unknown number appeared on my phone. A woman's voice rushedin as soon as I answered.

"Hello, is this Anwar?"

"Yes, it is."

"Hey Anwar, this is Olivier. Liv. You remember me, right?"

"Olivier?" I repeated the name, continuing to walk towards my car. I placed the clothes I'dprepared on the seat. There are only two Oliviers I know. One is a model, the other isJamie's friend. "What's up?"

Which Olivier is this...?

"Could you come here? To our room at Ridgewood... I didn't want to call you, but I reallydon't know what else to do. Jamie hasn't left the room for days, and he's just been drinkingand crying non-stop."

"..."

"Please come and see him. Please."

How long has it been since I've been this frantic with worry about Jamie?

I can't even remember. Maybe half a year ago? When his stomach ulcer flared up and hecollapsed to the floor, doubled over in pain. His usually handsome face was pale, tearswelling in his eyes, yet a small smile played on his lips. He was in the hospital. He wasn'tusually this worrying. I've never really felt this bad during the times we were together.

I drove faster than usual. The forty-minute drive was cut in half. A three-storycream-colored building stood before me. I used to come here often when we were dating. Iquickly parked and strode up the stairs into the apartment building. Jamie's room is on thethird floor. Olivier opened the door the moment I knocked, as if she'd been waiting for me."He's here," Olivier said to someone inside, before stepping aside to let me in. Anotherwoman was sitting inside. I recognized her face but couldn't recall her name.

"Thank God," she murmured, rising to her feet and leading me to the kitchen area in thesame room. Jamie was slumped over the wooden table, his hand still gripping a bottle ofJohnnie Walker. In the crook of his arm, resting on the table, was a nearly empty glass ofwhiskey. His Off-White ashtray, which I bought him, was overflowing with countlesscigarettes, barely any space left.

"Jamie, get up," the other woman said loudly, clapping her hands.

"I told you I don't want to go shopping with you today," Jamie mumbled, lifting his headslightly. He closed his eyes, muttering without looking our way. His thin body swayed slightlybefore I stepped in to help support his arm. "Leg, Nell."

His deep voice trailed off as his light brown eyes met mine. His face was pale, with redblotches around his eyes, nose, and lips. Even strangers could see how much he'd beencrying.

"Like you said...maybe I should stop drinking and go to sleep. You guys would think I'm crazyif you knew what I'm seeing,"

"Stop drinking," I said, taking the bottle from his slender hand. He let me do it easily, butquickly grabbed his whiskey glass instead. "Jamie."

"Shut up. You're just a hallucination," Jamie scoffed, turning his head and raising his glass todrink.

"We have to run an errand. Take care," Chanel grabbed her shoulder bag, looking at me as ifentrusting me with everything, then left the room with Olivier.

It was just the two of us.

I sighed, sitting down on the chair beside him. "Jamie."

"Anwar, what are you doing here?" Jamie's voice was sharper, turning cold in the latter partof his sentence. "I thought we were done. Even if you didn't come to talk, that's it ."

"We're not done because you're doing this. Why have you become like this?"

"What do you mean, 'become like this'?"

I didn't answer because he already knew. At my silence, Jamie smirked, slammed his emptyglass on the table, and snatched the whiskey from my hand to refill his glass.

"Why? Does it worry you?"

"Yes." The answer stopped Jamie's hand. He paused for a moment but ultimately raised hisglass and continued drinking.

"It shouldn't worry you. You don't like me anymore."

"Jamie."

"Anwar," Jamie called back. He bit his lower lip so hard it bruised. His eyes, bloodshot andglistening with tears, met mine. "Ask again. What are you doing here after running away fromme last night? Even if I drink myself to death, you should pretend not to care. Since there areno more feelings between us, you should just let me rot, shouldn't you? Can't you do that?""I can't," I retorted sharply. His words struck a painful chord. "You know how I feel about you.Even if I don't love you, it doesn't mean I want to see you live like this. You said you'd acceptit, didn't you?"

"Isn't that what you wanted to hear? I always indulge you, you know that...what else could Isay at that moment?" Jamie stood up slowly. He swayed as if about to fall, but managed tograb my shoulder. His slender hand trembled slightly as he squeezed my shoulder andmoved to stand between my legs. "Go on, order me. Tell me to stop liking you, tell me todisappear from your life. Order it decisively right here and I'll promise to do it. But after that,even if I truly disappear, whether from your life or from this world, you have no right tointerfere, either. If you don't feel anything anymore, let's just cut ties. Can you do that?""Why are you saying that? Don't say that."

Jamie's words broke my heart. He didn't explicitly say what he would do, but I clearly pickedup the ominous cues.

So clear that I was afraid he would actually do it.

"If you can't love, you have to cut ties because you don't love. Is that my conclusion correct?Go on, order me. But before that...I want you to know that the love I gave, I never playedgames with it. I said we could be anything as long as you were within my sight, but now Iknow I can't."

Jamie cupped my face with both hands, gently tracing my lips with his fingertips. Hisbeautiful eyes shone with a sorrowful yet resolute light. With a single blink, a tear fell onto hissmooth cheek.

"Finding out you're going to love someone else shattered me beyond anything I could haveimagined. Anwar...I'd hoped for love. I can't accept anything less from you. If I don't haveyour love, I don't want anything else."

"..."

"You said you'd try to love each me. Why did you stop trying...?"





..






..








Blue's pov:



Tonight was the first night Anwar would be free. For the past several days, he'd beenworking almost day and night. He only said he wanted to finish his work before the deadline,so he could spend many days with me. Last night, we talked on the phone until one in themorning before I went to bed, letting Anwar continue his work.

I went to my classes as usual, and after school, I went back to the sex toy shop where Giahad taken me. Maybe because I was alone this time, I dared to spend more time lookingaround than last time. It was embarrassing, I was so flustered that one of the staff membersoffered to help. Their soft voice and professional demeanor calmed my nervousness, and Iended up buying several items. Each item was so expensive I almost bit my tongue, butthinking about who I would try them with, and considering the time I have left, I steeledmyself and paid for everything.

We haven't slept together for several nights. I strictly forbade Anwar from coming here untilhe finished his work. I suppressed my longing and didn't bother him at his house either.

I texted Anwar as soon as I got back to the room. Rome and Gia stopped by to picksomething up. Gia was thrilled to see me coming out of Chen's bedroom because Romehadn't told her beforehand. Afterward, we spent several hours on the sofa playing games.This was the first time I'd talked to Rome so much. He's Thai, living here but unlike Chen; ifyou exclude basic phrases like "hello," "yes," "okay," Rome doesn't speak Thai.

At first, I was nervous speaking English for long periods with others, but after a while, I forgotmy initial anxieties. I spent a lot of time with Jasper. He speaks very quickly and uses a lotof slang; initially I understood some, other times not at all. Now, I understand almost everysentence everyone says. Lately, Anwar prefers speaking English with me rather than Thai,too.

Four months is a very short time compared to my high school exchange program...but backthen I was much younger and more of a homebody. I only really talked to my teachers, afew close classmates, and my host family, mostly just during dinners and in the mornings.Rome and Gia are very serious; Rome even wants to find time to fly to Korea.

"Long-distance relationships never work for me, but we're going to try," Rome said calmlywhile we were dealing with the hamburgers we ordered.

"Yeah, it's a scary word. Who knows, we might get overwhelmed by it. But love always wins,"Gia smiled broadly, lying down on Rome's lap, opening her mouth to receive a french fry hefed her.

It was almost 8 PM when Gia and Rome left. They waited several hours for Anwar, buteventually left without him. I looked at the clock, stretched, and grabbed my purchasesbefore heading to the bathroom.

Only a couple more weeks. Just thinking about time running out makes my heart ache.What kind of ending will it be? Will I regret it if things don't go as planned? Even if I say thateverything I've experienced in these four months has been worthwhile, when the timecomes, how will I really feel?

We've never had a serious conversation about this. I don't want to pressure Anwar, I don'twant him to feel forced to answer whether he loves me or not. I don't even know if we'll everhave this conversation, or if we'll just drift apart, leaving it all as a faint memory of somethingthat once happened.

Since that night at Bree's party, Anwar has seemed stressed. He sometimes slips up, hisexpression suggesting something's on his mind. When I ask, he dismisses it by saying he'sstressed about work.

If it was really work stress, he should be less stressed by now.

Two weeks...should I bring this up?

I take a deep breath, temporarily pushing aside my worries by showering and preparingmyself. I hope Anwar arrives soon.

I never knew that missing someone, wanting to hug someone, could be this intense.Nine o'clock.

I'm starting to think Anwar might have overslept, not hearing his alarm, or maybe he heard itbut sleepily hit snooze and fell back asleep, like I used to do in Thailand. I thought he'd behere sooner; I actually expected him this evening. That's what we agreed on before we hungup.

I tap my foot lightly on the floor, and decide to turn off the TV, even though I only startedwatching a new Netflix movie less than twenty minutes ago. I'm bored with my phone, boredwith talking to friends.

I just want a hug...

I look down at the English messages I sent Anwar an hour ago: "Awake yet?" "Didn't finishwork?"

He hasn't read either message.

I frown, tapping my foot lightly, staring at the satin bag containing various items, wishing timewould speed up. I've showered and been waiting for a long time. I should have gone for awalk and then come back; but once I showered, I didn't want to go anywhere. But sitting herealone is also boring.

Finally, my patience runs out. I send the message again: "Are you coming?" I wait less thana minute before calling. The ringing goes on for a long time. Anwar answers at the very lastsecond before I assume the call will be dropped.

"Blue."

"Are you awake?"

"Yes."

"Did you finish work?"

"Yes."

"If you're done, are you still coming to see me tonight?"

"I want to, but... Blue, right now, I..." Anwar's voice trails off. Then I hear a door. Anwarhesitates for a second. His deep voice whispers softly, "Stop."

"Huh..." Stop what? Me?

I subtly raise an eyebrow, about to ask, when another voice cuts in. I recognize it instantly,even though I've only heard it once.

"You should stop talking on the phone and come hug me. Come back to the bed."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Isn't that true?"

"What...?" I ask, shocked. The instant I hear that sentence, my heart plummets. Numbnesscreeps into my face. "Anwar?"

"I'll come find you," Anwar's voice is frantic, but it's nothing compared to what I feel inside."Where are you?" I ask. The faint laughter from the other end of the line makes my wholebody go numb.

"I'll come find you, and then..."

"Where are you?!" I shout, feeling breathless and taking a deep breath. Sadness hits meunexpectedly, shattering all the good feelings I had before with terrifying speed.

It feels like I've been hit on the head with a heavy hammer.

"It's not what you think."

"Do you know what I think? If you do, why did you do it?" I frown, raising my hand to clutchmy shirt tightly.

I'm shaking and the pain is almost unbearable.

He said he wouldn't talk behind my back. Isn't this what we agreed on? We talked aboutthis, didn't we?

"If you know all this, why are you still with him, Anwar?"

I don't want to be childish. I know I should wait to hear his explanation or something fromAnwar, but I don't want to hear it. I don't want to say anything.

What am I supposed to do?

"Wait there," Anwar replied, his voice strained. I began to hear nothing but the dull, heavythud of my own heart and Jamie's words, replaying endlessly in my head.

"No, no need..." I gritted my teeth, ordering Anwar for the first time before hanging up. "Don'tcome."

Silence slowly consumed my senses. I stared intently at the satin bag on the coffee table. Itwas empty, and all I felt was a suffocating pressure, like someone was squeezing me, alongwith the heat rising to my nose.

"Don't come."

"I hoped you could say something nice, something to reassure me."

"I was reassured."

I clenched my fists until the veins bulged. More than him doing something behind my backwas the fact that he'd promised he wouldn't.

'If you don't want me to talk to him, then I won't.' How could he not talk? What I heard wasmore than just a conversation.

The satin bag was violently thrown into the trash can in the corner of the room, knocking itover. The noise was deafening; my ears were ringing.

This is what real disappointment feels like. I now know what true betrayal feels like. It wasn'twhen I heard about his drinking with others, or when I heard a woman's voice on his phone.This sadness is incomparable.

I slowly raised my hand to touch my face, taking a deep breath to regain my composure. Itried to stop thinking about Anwar and Jamie, to stop replaying the word hug in my head. Istood up from the sofa, went to the trash can, and stared into it, my mind blank.

What should I do?

If you weren't going to follow through, then why did you say it in the first place?

'Saying things like that destroys trust, you know?'

If you want me to trust you, then do what you say. Otherwise, how can I ever trust you?It would have been better if you hadn't said anything at all if you didn't intend to do it. Whywould you lead me to be happy like that?

I'd thought that one day I might be hurt, but I never imagined this kind of pain.

I took several deep breaths. Grabbing the satin bag, I felt I couldn't bear it any longer. I randownstairs and outside, threw it in the trash can by the building entrance, and rushed backupstairs. I locked the door; all my strength seemed to be drained from my body, forcing meto slowly sink to the floor, crouching down. I let out a faint laugh before stopping abruptlywhen I felt a lump forming in my throat. It was so uncomfortable I wanted to cough it upforcefully.

Who do you think you are to be so special, more special than the ones he's liked before?

You think you're so strong, having gotten over the heartbreak with P'Phim. That you canhandle everything.

It's not comparable at all.

Sob...

'Your 'like the most' means nothing in the end.'

It's not comparable at all.

8:20 PM

The sound of the doorknob being rattled pulled me from my thoughts. Someone knockedtwice, three times. I knew who it was before I even moved an inch from the sofa.

"Blue, open the door."

I heard him, but remained still. My thoughts were slow, but my body even slower. Then Iheard his next sentence.

"Blue, are you going to open this door, or should I open it myself?"

Anwar.

I got up from the sofa and opened the door, but I stood in the doorway, blocking his entry.Anwar looked serious, his expression unreadable, but his eyes held a plea.

Just looking at him made my heart clench in pain.

"I told you not to come," I said flatly, trying to conserve my words as much as possible, notwanting to burst into tears again like I had earlier. "Don't come. I don't want to see youtonight."

"I didn't intend to have a conversation."

"I know. I heard you perfectly clearly," I interrupted. "I know you went to do other things. Ifyou didn't intend to, how did you end up doing it?"

Anwar rested one hand on the doorframe, as he often did. "Blue, can you just listen to me?"What was with that pleading look?

Anwar moved closer. I glanced towards the sounds of footsteps and voices from the stairs,then slowly backed away, letting him enter the room. I returned to my spot on the sofa,hugging my knees.

"I didn't do anything with Jamie. I only went because his friend called, asking me to check onhim. He's been drinking nonstop and hasn't left his room for weeks, ever since he got backfrom Bree's house." Anwar sat down beside me, but I didn't loosen my arms from aroundmyself.

I don't know how I felt about his explanation. I just know I didn't feel any better, not even alittle.

"So you went to Jamie's room, right?" I asked, biting my lip. "But you said you weren't goingto talk, or was I wrong? And I said I trusted you. Why did you do this? Why did you breakyour promise to me?"

As I spoke, heat rushed to my face.

"Do you understand? It's not about whether you intended to or not. It's that you broke yourpromise to me, Anwar! You took my trust and went to his room. And I said I trusted you! Iwaited for you for weeks. I sat here waiting for you! I sat here for hours!" I added, my voicerising.

I bit my lower lip hard, burying my face in my knees, tightening my arms around myself andclosing my eyes to hide the tears that welled up uncontrollably.

At this moment, I didn't want to try to imagine what I would do if I were Anwar. I didn't want totry to think about whether I would go or not if someone asked me to check on someone Iused to have strong feelings for. I didn't want to think about anything anymore.

I had expected... even though I said it was up to him, I secretly had expectations. AndAnwar himself had promised me.

And those expectations had been shattered.

Right now, I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, what to think, or what to say in response.

"Blue, I'm sorry," Anwar said, breaking the heavy, suffocating silence. I dug my nails into myarms.

Hoping to feel something other than the complete numbness that had enveloped me.

Anwar's hair brushed against my skin as he leaned in, his forehead resting against my arm.

A soft whisper, no different from my own silent sobs.

"I'm sorry."

This broken promise was unlike the others. It wasn't him coming home late, or helping afriend, or getting caught up and missing an appointment.

Anwar let me cry silently for a moment. He didn't say anything, but he rested his headagainst my arm before lifting it slightly, and gently moved closer. His warm hand rested onmy back, stroking lightly.

"Look up, let's talk," Anwar softly pleaded. "Please?"

I bit my lip until it hurt, sitting still and unmoving. I felt a gentle tug. Before I could resist,Anwar quickly pulled me onto his strong lap, his arms wrapping around my waist, preventingme from escaping.

"Let go."

Anwar shook his head. His brown eyes, looking up at me from below, were filled withconcern. He used his fingertips to touch my cheek. As I remained still, he gently wiped awaythe tears that continued to fall.

"I'm sorry," Anwar repeated. "Blue, please don't cry."

"You can't order me around."

"I'm not ordering you."

"..."

"He's really in bad shape...and it's because of me." His dark eyebrows furrowed slightly. Hepaused after speaking, his gaze fixed intently on me.

I let him hold me. My head was a whirlwind of confused thoughts, none of which werecoherent enough to form into sentences. I felt like I had lost the ability to think.

"Are you done talking?" I asked, sentence by sentence, pushing Anwar's hands away andtrying to wipe my own tears.

The first question already received no answer.

I nodded, took a breath, and continued asking. "What did you talk about?"

"He...loves me," Anwar stammered again, his eyebrows furrowing tighter than before, beforehe closed his eyes tightly. The word was uttered with difficulty, this love he spoke of.

His expression, the confusion in his eyes, the discomfort, the sorrow-I saw it all, but I didn'tknow why he felt this way. Because of his heart? Because of me? Because of what?

"And do you love him?" Anwar opened his eyes to look at me, at the same moment I decidedto change the question, thinking he wouldn't answer. "No, did you actually hug him?"

My heart constricted. The more I asked, the more I heard his answers, the more blank mymind became.

Anwar's face contorted in awkwardness. "I didn't hug him because he loves me."

So that means he hugged him.

I felt like I was going to die...I just laughed scornfully.

I threw myself out of his arms forcefully. The tighter Anwar held me, the more I struggled tobreak free, the angrier I became until I felt dizzy.

"Then how about me? Do you love me?! Was that hug because you love me?!"

Anwar at this moment felt lost, his face flushed red, his eyes bright, but no tears fell likemine. His silence was driving me even more insane.

"Ha ha, you don't love me either," I concluded, feeling my body starting to go numb, slippingbeyond my control. At that moment, I decided to yank myself away, nearly falling to the floor,but Anwar, quicker than me, caught me, gently lowering me onto the sofa before graspingmy wrist tightly.

"I like you so much, Anwar. I like you so much. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, whatI'm supposed to do. Can you help me?" I tried to breathe, but my nose was blocked, so I hadto open my mouth to breathe instead.

"I like you a lot too, Blue, like I've always told you. I didn't love Jamie, not even then. I didn'tfeel about him the way I feel about you now...but Jamie is someone who was in my life.Even if I didn't love him, I couldn't just ignore him, leave him like that, especially when he'shurting because of me. He's vulnerable. I couldn't just leave him. I want you to understandme."

I understood what Anwar said, whether I was right or wrong I didn't know, but thatunderstanding came with the feeling that I had become the villain.

"If you can't leave him, then why are you here? Why are you here now? If you can't leavehim now, then when...when will you be able to?" I raised my hand and rubbed my faceroughly, hoping to wipe away these stupid tears. My face was burning hot, as was the rest ofmy body. I shook my head. The exhaustion made me not want to think anymore. "I don'twant to talk anymore."

Anwar moved between my legs. His warm hand grasped my ankle, moving up to my legbefore he leaned in close.

"Blue, I like you. I only like you. Can you hear me?" Anwar whispered, so close I could seehis long, beautiful eyelashes. His lips brushed against my cheek as he murmured softly,pleadingly, "I don't want to be with him. I want to be with you. I didn't go to Jamie with thesame feelings I have for you, Blue. Can you understand me?"

I listened to his words. The firmness in his voice, the pleading, his expression and gaze,slowly calmed me down.

When my thoughts became too overwhelming and scattered, I chose to push them all awayand focus only on Anwar sitting in front of me, on his words, on his touch.

"Stop crying, okay?" Anwar kept kissing away my tears. Before I knew it, they had stopped. Isaw his beautiful lips curve into a small smile. He gently stroked my hair, though lines ofstress were still visible on his face. "My good person."

I nodded, gazing at his beautifully arched eyebrows, which were still slightly furrowed. I letout a few more soft sobs before taking a deep breath and trying to calm myself. I didn'trealize Anwar had gotten so close, our bodies pressed together. My legs were spread,almost as if I was clinging to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't call beforehand..."

"Mm-hmm,"

"I like you the most. You heard me, right?" Anwar emphasized the words "like you."

"Hmm." I lifted my finger to massage my eyelids. A dull ache spread across my head,becoming unbearable. Seeing this, Anwar gently used his fingertips to massage my headand temples.

"Better? Feeling better?"

I nodded again.

"Come here," Anwar gently tugged my arm before his lips pressed against mine. Everythingbecame blurry because I couldn't breathe through my nose, but I ended up pulling himcloser, preventing him from pulling away. Anwar gently entwined his tongue with mine, a kissconveying a multitude of feelings at once: supplication, comfort, and something muchdeeper.

Something that began to ease the pain in my heart.

"Hold on," I gasped, breathless, and Anwar immediately pulled back. He shifted slightly; hislips still brushed mine, but there was now space for me to breathe.

"Don't go... Don't see anyone else... Don't talk to anyone else. We only have two weeks,"

Even though I understand a sliver of Anwar's situation, a part of me selfishly demanded to beconsidered.

I was scared... worried that things might change.

"Just two weeks. If you don't love me... can you just go back to them afterwards?"

"..."

I gently bit Anwar's lower lip before pulling away and lifting a hand to touch his bloodshoteyes. He didn't answer.

And why does he look like he's about to cry? I didn't think Anwar would cry just because Icried.

Before I could ask, Anwar's phone screamed a shrill, short ring.

"Who's calling?" I asked, watching until Anwar fished his phone out of his pocket. I lookeddown at the incoming call's name while Anwar continued to stare at me.

A heavy silence hung in the air for several seconds, neither of us moving.

I was too scared to confront it, but if I let it hang like this, I'd be the one stuck.

But Anwar said I was the most important. If I'm the most important, then he should stay here,right?

"Answer it," I placed both hands on his strong shoulders. "Answer the call."

Anwar hesitated, so I answered the call and handed him the phone.

I didn't know what they were talking about. The voice on the other end was muffled and toolow for me to understand, but I sat still, maintaining eye contact with Anwar until I saw hiseyes widen for a fraction of a second. Something startled him; he leapt from the sofa.

"Anwar," I grabbed his wrist. The warmth that had momentarily vanished returned to myfingertips. "Don't go. Please, stay with me."

"Blue, this is really important. Please," The panic in his eyes and his frantic demeanor brokemy heart.

"No, Anwar, no..." I stood up, feeling like I was trying to hold onto something slipping away,like this was the last time I'd feel him like this. I saw Anwar in my mind's eye, embracingsomeone who wasn't me, saw myself losing him. "Anwar, please... don't leave."

Anwar pulled me into a tight hug, his voice a breathless, urgent whisper against my ear.

"I'll be right back. Wait for me."

He pulled away quickly after saying that, giving me one last look, his beautiful eyes tremblingbefore he rushed out of the room. The door slammed shut, the sound echoing in my ears.

I collapsed onto the floor, feeling like the world had shrunk to nothing.

That plea was too much for me right now.

Wait for me. How long do I have to wait? What am I supposed to think while you're with him?

My hands and body trembled. I squeezed my arms hard, trying to steady myself. A chillingcoldness crept over my face, contrasting sharply with the warmth of tears streaming downmy cheeks and chin.

I couldn't see anything except total darkness, overwhelming loneliness that left me writhingin agony. The truth that Anwar chose to leave was almost unbearable.

It hurt more than I ever thought love could hurt. You said you liked me the most, but you stilldidn't choose me. The words "most important" ultimately lost to "really important." So, whatspecial meaning did those words actually have?

In the end, they had none.

In the end, I truly wasn't chosen.