Marked with Silence

I seriously hated him.

He was sitting there with a soda in his hands and a straw between his lips, with the sun hitting his face with the right amount of light.

Doubt. That was the first problem. I had no faith in Sapphira choosing me over him. Or maybe it was control, for making her do so.

I walked by the table he was sitting at, gave him a nod, and fell straight into line. I wanted him to wait.

After getting an Oreo McFlurry, I took the seat across from him,

“So what’d you want to talk about?”

Max put both elbows on the table and clasped his hands together, “Do you trust Sapphira?”

I gave a small shrug, “Yeah.”

He narrowed his eyes, “Then why do you think she’s going to ditch you for me?”

“Isn’t that what you want her to do?”

He leaned back and put his arm across the back of the bench. “Eventually. I don’t care that you two have a thing. Well, I mean, of course a care a little. But as long as she and I are together in the end, I’m fine.”

What he said made my body hot with anger. So patronizing, thinking that I was just some fling or some unimportant phase that Sapphira was going through. So cocky, thinking that she would end up with him eventually.

I narrowed my eyes, “Then why visit her now? Why not in five years? Why not in ten?”

It was his turn to shrug shoulders, “We’re still friends. We were good friends before we started going out. I want her to know that I’m still here for her.”

Shit, best friend turned into boyfriend. In movies, books…any story, that bond never disappears. Never. And the new guy may succeed in getting the girl, but that best/ex-boyfriend will always be there. She’ll always care for him, and he for her. The new guy never has her heart completely.

Being rude came so easily when Max was involved, “Did you just call me here to gloat some more? About how you and Sapphira have this amazing bond and lots of history? Because I have other things that I’d rather be doing.”

He smirked and then said, “Go to her. Make up. She’s miserable.”

I raised my eyebrows, “What if I don’t want to? What if I think she is in the wrong for not making you go home?”

“But you don’t think that she’s in the wrong,” he stated evenly. “And even if you did, I’m pretty sure that you love her way more than you love your pride.”

I hated how well he could read me. It was like he’d known me for years, instead of for days. I hated how right he was. I hated him.

“You’re practically telling me to go over there and make sure that our relationship works.”

Max shook his head, “Not practically—I am. You make her happy. I want her to be happy.”

It was my turn to smirk, though I think it was more of a true smile, “Even though it isn’t you that’s making her happy?”

“Don’t worry, it will be me, some day.”


I was glad that Sapphira’s apartment was within walking distance from McDonald’s. I got there in less than four minutes with my running speed.

Max had offered to give me a ride there, but I had to keep at least a tiny shred of my dignity in tact.

I was trying to catch my breath in the elevator. Its rate seemed so slow, especially with the rate of my thumping heart and my unsteady breathing.

I was running again as soon as the elevator doors opened. Her door was closed, which meant that her aunt and uncle weren’t there since they were the only ones that left the door open.

I knocked, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I waited.

And then I saw her face.

She looked confused, “Did you run here?”

I nodded, “Can I come in?”

She stepped aside and I walked in. I wondered if Max told her that we were meeting.

“I’m sorry I made such a big deal about Max. I know you wouldn’t hurt me by leaving me for him.”

She shook her head, “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m trusting you,” I emphasized.

Sapphira’s eyes glazed over with guilt, “He won’t be here forever, I promise.”

I nodded.

She looked down at her feet. She was in house clothes, a pair of very loose sweat pants and a short t shirt, wearing no bra or make up or shoes.

Sapphira bit the right side of her bottom lip, “I’m sorry I didn’t say that I was in love with you back.”

I shut my eyes. I didn’t want her to bring that up. That was a wound that couldn’t be healed with an apology; only with me hearing her return the declaration I had made last night.

“You don’t have to talk about that.”

“I need to. We can’t make up unless you know that I am not in love with you. “

Hearing those words brought upon a terrible mixture of feelings. My stomach dropped, and at the same time, I felt like I would throw up. My heart squeezed and exploded in the same beat. My head got fuzzy while her words rang clear in my mind in the same thought.

She must have seen the look in my face because she was about to cry. She was hurting me, and she knew it.

“I…I can’t mess with that right now. I-I can’t. It’s…I’m not ready.”

My eyes were still closed. I was focused on breathing.

I felt her hands on both sides of my face, her hips on my body. “But I can tell you that I care about you, so much. And that is the closest that I have let myself get to a person since...”

I opened my eyes, and the first thing that they saw were hers.

And I saw love.

The feeling was there, I could see it. She just couldn’t admit it to herself. And she could only admit it to me after she was ready to accept the fact.

She wasn’t ready to give me her heart, and that’s what she knew would happen if she said she loved me. Because I gave her my heart last night; I gave her all of it.

I leaned down, and kissed her. Her hands stayed on my face, as mine entwined around her lower back, pressing us as close as we could possibly get.

Sapphira pulled away, “You can’t honestly say that you’re okay with what I said.”

I chose my words carefully. I wasn’t going to let her know what I knew. “Just tell me that eventually, maybe, you might fall in love with me.”

“Jerom—“

“I know you’re still scared,” my mind wandered to previous conversations, about her fear of how I made her feel.

“What if I can never say it?” she whispered.

“I have faith that that’s a bridge we won’t have to cross.”