Rogan stands in the doorway and says, "I didn’t think you’d come," in a flat
voice that suggests he should be welcoming me rather than viewing my presence as a minor annoyance. His remarks were relentless and icy, and they struck me like a wave. Our relationship has been tense for days, but this—this seems different. Everything about this moment is changing, including his tone and the way his eyes dart momentarily toward the window. Deep in my chest, I sense it.
With my heart pounding in my ears, I cautiously enter the room. "We're supposed to meet here, you said. I arrived.
Rogan remains motionless as he observes me while lightly tapping the doorframe with his fingertips. I don't know why, but it feels like I'm a stranger. "You shouldn’t have," he whispers, but I can clearly hear what he says. They hurt more than I would like. "But… I suppose it’s too late now."
"Too late for what?" I try to sound steady, but my voice is shaking as I ask. My mind is racing trying to figure out what he's saying, but his words don't make sense.
His lips are pressed into a harsh line as he looks at me. Tonight, there's something strange about him. Something I'm unable to identify.
He says, "Ava," in a lower, almost hesitant voice. "Aria will be returning. I had been anticipating her arrival. You wouldn't comprehend."
I get a stab of pain when her name is mentioned. Aria. His former partner. For as long as I've known him, the woman has been haunting him. Despite the layers of icy indifference he displays toward me, he has never stopped talking about this one.
I want to yell at him and question why he has been keeping this from me and why he hasn't told me sooner. However, I manage to keep myself together. For the time being. "Why does it matter if she’s coming back?" I inquire, sounding colder than I actually am. "I’m here now."
He stands up, his eyes growing gloomy. "It is important because With a voice almost audible above a whisper, Rogan confesses, "I'm not sure if I can let go of her." Too honest, too genuine, the words linger between us. A part of me—the one that's beginning to fall apart—knows it's not that easy, but I want to think he's simply saying it to get my attention or maybe to push me away.
"So, what does that mean for us?" Before I can stop myself, I find myself asking the inquiry. The answer is not something I want to know. Not at all. I can't help but inquire, though.
Rogan narrows his eyes as if he's considering something while he looks at me. "It means that I'm not sure if I'm ready to let you in fully," he replies hesitantly. Not while I'm still clinging to something I can't seem to get rid of. Not while she's still in my life and in my thoughts."
His words were like daggers, piercing m
e with every phrase. It's a stark reality. The only thing I am is a placeholder. A substitute for someone who never really went away. I feel like I'm being suffocated by the walls of this room.
"So, I’m just here to fill the gap?" Even though my hands are shaking, I strive to speak steadily. "Until she comes back and you can pick up where you left off?"
At first, Rogan is silent. He doesn't have to. His quiet speaks louder than words ever could. Breathing is difficult for me because of the weight of it pressing against my chest. Never have I felt so insignificant. So unimportant.
"I didn’t ask for this either, Ava," Rogan clarifies, his voice suddenly piercing. "This was not intended to occur. You—" He swallows hard and stops himself. "I never wanted it to be like this."
Even though the agony is unbearable, I answer quietly, "But it is," my heart twisting at the sting of his indifference. "Rogan, it's just like this. You're still thinking about her, even though I'm here and trying to make this work. Regarding Aria.
Something I can't identify flickers in his eyes for a moment, perhaps sorrow or shame, but it disappears as fast as it came. He lets out a deep breath, and then he does something I never saw coming: he takes a stride toward me. It was enough to make me hold my breath, but not enough to get us all the way near.
He says, "I didn’t want to hurt you, Ava," in a gentler, almost beseeching manner. However, I am also unable to lie to you. Aria's situation isn't finished yet. Not quite yet.
And there it is, the reality I have been trying to ignore. the one I've been acting like doesn't exist while dancing around it. But it's out here, unadulterated and unbridled.
"So, what do you expect me to do with that?" Even though I'm trying to be calm, my voice breaks as I ask. "Just observe your longing for someone else from a distance. Someone who—"
"I’m not pining!" I'm surprised at how sharply his voice slices through mine. "I'm not going to wait for her here. But, Ava, she's a part of me. She will always be. As though to test me further, his eyes harden.
I can no longer tolerate the agony inside of me. I feel foolish for even considering the possibility that this might actually be real. I might be the one to help him forget about her. However, I'm not. I will never be.
"So, what are we doing here?" I ask, hardly raising my voice above a whisper. "What is this? This charade, this...?"
For a few seconds, Rogan's eyes soften as he looks at me. But the hardness comes back just as fast. "I don’t know," he acknowledges. "I don't really. However, I'm not sure how to leave her. Not quite yet.
After that, the room's door suddenly creaks open. I see it, but my heart is beating so loudly that I can hardly hear it. A familiar face was framed in the light by a figure standing in the doorway.
Aria is here.
And then everything is different.