CHAPTER 67: THE MESSAGE

Saval didn't know what had woken him up. It was early morning, and the room was silent, with only the distant murmur of traffic that never slept. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, unmoving, letting the darkness wrap around him. He felt that strange pressure in his chest, like someone had placed a stone right on top of it.

He sat up in bed. It was messy, the sheets twisted around his feet and the pillow thrown to the floor. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. Went to the kitchen and drank water straight from the bottle. He wasn't thirsty. It was more a way to calm the tremor in his fingers.He returned to the room and collapsed onto the bed again. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking either.

Semiel.

Since David and George had come to talk to him, he hadn't stopped replaying the conversation in his mind. George's words—you're not okay, and you know it—had felt like an unexpected slap. Not because they were harsh, but because they were true. He wasn't okay. Hadn't been for a long time.

He'd tried to fill his days with tasks, classes, anything that would keep him from thinking. But at night, when there were no voices or noise, the silence forced him to hear everything he avoided during the day.

And there it was again—Semiel's image.

Sitting in the chair across from him, telling him he'd betrayed him. That he'd failed him. That he hated him.

Or maybe he hadn't said exactly that, but that's how it had felt.

He sat up, grabbed his phone and unlocked it. The screen blinded him a little. He opened the chat with Semiel. It was still there, frozen in time. The last time they talked had been weeks ago. Saval had written something long and messy, and Semiel had never replied.

He deleted the whole chat. Regretted it immediately. Closed his eyes.

What an idiot, he muttered, dropping the phone on the bed.

Picked it up again. Opened the notes app. Started typing something.

I don't know if you're awake. Probably not. I just wanted to say… I miss all of this. I miss our friendship. I don't know how to fix it. I don't know if you even want to. But it hurts. And I know it hurts you too, even if you won't say it. I know because I know you. Because I still care, even if I shouldn't.

He read the text. A lump formed in his throat.

He erased it.

Typed again.

Can we talk for a bit?

That message, he did send.

He turned off the phone immediately and placed it face down. Covered his face with both hands.

What am I doing…?

Twenty minutes passed. The phone didn't ring. Saval started to think he wasn't going to answer. That he was asleep. That he had blocked him. Deleted him. Didn't care anymore. Each thought hit harder than the last.

Until the phone vibrated.

He grabbed it instantly. One message. One word.

—

—Come in —he said softly.

He entered. The apartment was dark, with only the dim kitchen light on. Saval stood there, unsure if he should sit, speak, apologize.

—Do you want some water? —asked Semiel.

—No, thanks.

Silence.

—I didn't think you'd come —said Semiel, looking at the floor.

—I didn't think I'd text you either.

—But you did.

—I did.

—Why?

Saval looked at him. There were many answers. None felt enough.

—Because I can't take it anymore.

Semiel looked up.

—Me neither.

It was like a thaw. A crack opening through the massive ice between them.

They sat on the couch, far apart. Saval had his hands on his knees, stiff. Semiel was slouched, as if carrying an invisible weight.

—How are you? —asked Saval.

—Tired. You?

—Same.

More silence. It seemed impossible to say what they really wanted to say. Each sentence was a step on a broken bridge.

—I don't know where to start —said Saval.

—Wherever you want. I won't yell at you this time.

—It's not like it bothers me when you yell.

—It bothers me. Makes me feel like I've lost control. And I've already lost too much.Saval swallowed. He looked at him carefully.

—I don't want this to be another fight.

—It won't be —Semiel replied.

—I missed you —he finally said.

Semiel didn't answer. He nodded slightly, and it was clear his eyes were wet. Saval thought about the thousands of times he had dreamed of this moment, and none of them had been like this. None had been so painfully real.

—You know what hurt the most? —Semiel suddenly asked.

—Tell me.

—That you pulled away. You said you wouldn't. You lied.

Saval closed his eyes. They burned.

—I know. I think about it every day.

—And why did you do it?

—Because I was scared. Because I thought if I said something, you'd think something else. And I'd already been destroyed once.

—And what about me? Didn't I matter?

—You mattered so much it hurt, but I was afraid.

Semiel laughed, without joy.

—You've always been a coward.

—I know —Saval said.

Semiel looked at him. Not with resentment. With sadness.

—And now what do you want?

—I don't know. I didn't come to ask to be friends again, like before. I know that's not going to happen. I just… didn't want it to end like this. With this cold indifference.Semiel nodded.

—I'm tired of the silence too.

And then, without planning it, without deciding it, they both fell into silence again. But this time it didn't hurt. It was a different kind of silence. A less hostile one. More comfortable.

—Do you want to stay for a while? —Semiel asked, almost in a whisper.

Saval hesitated.

—Yeah. For a while.

They lay back on the couch, without touching…