Noelle sat there, staring at the half-finished tray between them, her pulse skipping uneasily. His voice had been steady, his touch reassuring, yet something about the suddenness of his departure, the unreadable look in his eyes, left her with a knot in her chest.
She reached for her drink, trying to shake the unease, but her mind lingered on that one unanswered question: What was so urgent that he had to leave her like that?
Ren's tray was still warm when he left, the fork he'd been holding abandoned at the edge of his plate. Noelle stared at it for a long moment, her appetite fading as quickly as he'd disappeared.
She told herself not to overthink it. People had last-minute things come up all the time. He said he'd explain later. Still, the way he had moved, as though pulled by something he couldn't ignore, sat heavy in her chest.
Noelle tried to find something to occupy her mind as she tried to make the most of what's remaining her weekend. She busied herself with errands all day as she went from one place to another. On the walk home, the whispers from earlier in the week replayed in her head, those fleeting doubts she hated admitting to. Ren had promised her, had assured her, she was the one he wanted. And she believed him. She did. Yet, as the sun dipped lower, painting the street in soft gold, that belief wrestled with the ache of not knowing where he'd gone or why.
By the time she closed the door of her apartment behind her, the mystery had grown into a quiet hum beneath her skin, stubborn and unsettling.
She set her bag down, pulled out her phone once more, and stared at the empty chat box. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. She wanted to ask. She wanted to know. But instead, she locked the screen and dropped it face-down on her desk.
If he wanted her to know, he would tell her.
At least, that was what she kept repeating to herself.
Ren didn't return that afternoon.
Didn't text that evening either.
By Monday night, Noelle had checked her phone so many times that she finally shoved it under her pillow just to stop herself. Still, sleep wouldn't come easy. Every buzz she thought she heard was only in her head.
Tuesday came and went in much the same way. He was at school and yes…laughing with his teammates, talking with his classmates but always slightly out of reach. They weren't in the same classes, and between the shuffle of periods and the noise of corridors, Noelle felt the distance more than ever. Whenever her gaze snagged on him across the hall, he smiled at her, warm and steady but before she could cross to him, he'd already been pulled elsewhere.
Mei Ling noticed first. "Why do you look like you're holding your breath every time your phone buzzes?" she asked at lunch, narrowing her eyes. Noelle brushed it off with a tight smile, unwilling to confess how the silence had started gnawing at her.
By Wednesday, it wasn't just silence. It was weight. A pressure building beneath her ribs. Ren would catch her eye and hold it just a second too long, as though he wanted to say something. But then his phone would light up in his hand or a teammate would clap him on the shoulder and the moment would vanish.
Whispers from classmates didn't help. There were constantly passing comments about his popularity, the way girls trailed after him, the way he seemed more intense than usual on the field during practice. Noelle pretended not to hear but every word found its way in, needling at her composure.
She sat curled on her bed, phone in hand again, staring at the unanswered chat. Should I ask? Should I not? The cursor blinked in the empty text box like a dare.
Finally, she set it down with a frustrated sigh, rolling onto her side. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her. That's what she kept repeating. But in the quiet dark of her room, the mystery of his sudden disappearances only deepened, curling like smoke she couldn't quite grasp.
She realised, with a pang, that they hadn't yet figured out what it meant to be together. Not really. They hadn't built the routine couples seemed to slip into so naturally, such as regular good-morning texts, no habit of telling each other about random little things in their days, no clear line of when she could reach for him without overstepping.
Every time her phone stayed silent, Noelle wondered if she was supposed to message first. Would it seem clingy? Would it bother him? She wanted to share the smallest things with him: the way her professor had mispronounced a classmate's name, the cat she saw sunbathing on the library steps but each time, she held herself back, not sure if he wanted that part of her yet.
On Ren's side, it wasn't so different. He thought of her more often than he dared admit. her laugh echoing in his head at the most random times, her flushed face when she teased him replaying in his mind after practice and most distractingly, the expression she wore during their lovemaking. He wanted to tell her about the last-minute errands his family had pulled him into, about how exhausting training had been, about the stupid meme one of his teammates had sent him. But the words stuck in his throat.
What if she didn't care? What if it made him seem childish, or worse... needy? He wanted to give her space, not smother her.
Neither of them knew that the gap wasn't distance, but hesitation, and that two hearts pacing nervously around the edges of something that hadn't yet taken shape.
And so the misunderstanding grew, not out of neglect, but out of both of them still learning where the other's boundaries ended and where love could quietly begin to take root in the everyday.
It happened on a Thursday afternoon, as the last bell rang and the campus spilled into its usual chaos of chatter and shuffling feet.
Ren caught up to Noelle just outside the gates, his gym bag slung casually over one shoulder. He grinned at her, easy and unbothered, the way he always did.
"Hey," he said, falling into step beside her. "You've been quiet this week. Why haven't you messaged me? Did I do something wrong?"
Noelle blinked, startled by the directness of it. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, her pulse quickening. "I… I don't know. I just thought that maybe you've been busy."
Ren tilted his head, frowning slightly. "Busy, yeah. But that doesn't mean I don't want to hear from you. You're allowed to bug me, you know. I'd like it." He tried to keep it light, but there was a sincerity underneath that tugged at her chest.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. The words she wanted to say—I don't know how to fit into your life yet. I don't know what I'm allowed to ask of you—tangled in her throat.
Ren scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile creeping across his face. "Tell you what. Let me make it up to you. Saturday, I'll take you out. Proper date. Just us. And I promise…" His grin turned teasing. "…I'll keep my hands to myself this time. Cross my heart."
Normally, his playful tone would've made her laugh. Normally, she would've swatted his arm and rolled her eyes, secretly delighted. But right now, all it did was sting.
Noelle stopped walking, forcing him to stop too. She looked at him, really looked and the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
"Ren… I don't think I can."
The humour drained from his face in an instant. His smile faltered, replaced by confusion, then worry. "What do you mean? You're busy?"
She shook her head, eyes darting away. "I just… I don't think I can go out with you this weekend." Her voice was soft but firm, each word like a small, invisible wall going up between them.
Ren stared at her, stunned into silence. He hadn't expected this: not from her, not after everything they'd shared. For the first time, his confidence slipped, replaced by a hollow, uncertain ache.
Noelle kept her gaze fixed on the ground, afraid that if she looked up at him, she wouldn't be able to hold herself together.
The air between them grew heavier, the noise of the crowd around them fading until all that remained was the unspoken tension of two hearts suddenly out of sync.