Chapter 11
"Finally, it's time to close the cafe. I feel exhausted," said Nima, rubbing her tired eyes. "I wonder if something happened; he didn't show up today."
As she went through the closing routine, Nima's thoughts kept drifting back to James. She felt an uneasy knot in her stomach, worried about why he hadn't come. Had he been busy with work, or was there something more? Did she do something wrong last night to hurt his feelings?
She looked outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, and her heart skipped a beat when she noticed a familiar tall figure of a man waving at her. Her face lit up, and all the worries that had piled up inside her head vanished like smoke in the thin air.
"Why are you here at this hour, James?" asked Nima, her smile radiant.
"I just returned from work and thought to meet you since I live around here anyway," said James nervously, his hands buried in his pants pockets.
"Is there a problem? You look nervous. Are you alright?" asked Nima, her concern deepening.
"Ahh, yes. I'm fine," James replied, his voice unconvincing.
"But you don't seem fine."
"No, I'm fine. Let me take you home," James said, abruptly changing the subject.
The car ride was silent and awkward. James's mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and doubt. He feared that Nima didn't feel the same way about him, that her confession the night before was not meant for him. Nima, on the other hand, was troubled by James's unusual silence. It was not typical for him to talk much, but tonight, his quietness seemed different, heavy with unspoken words.
As they arrived at Nima's place, both got out of the car. The cool night air did little to alleviate the tension between them.
"Thank you for taking me home," said Nima, trying to sound cheerful. "Good night then."
"Wait, Nima," James called her name, his voice trembling. "I have something to ask."
"What is it, James?" Nima turned to face him, her heart beating faster.
"Do you like someone?" James asked, his anxiety palpable.
"Do—I like someone? Wha—t do you me—an?" Nima stuttered, caught off guard.
James took a long breath, trying to steady himself. "Tell me, Nima," he urged.
"I..." Nima paused, her mind racing. "Yes, there is someone I like," she admitted, a bittersweet smile forming on her lips.
"Who is it?" James's voice was barely more than a whisper, dread filling his heart.
"Someone who is far from my reach. I can only dream of being together with him. It hasn't been long, but I really like him," Nima said, her eyes reflecting a sorrowful longing.
James felt his heart shatter. "Someone who is far from her reach? Then it's probably not me. What was I even thinking that I had a chance? I was just feeding my delusions," he thought to himself.
"Oh! I see. Then, goodnight," James managed to say, his voice hollow with heartbreak.
There was an abrupt change in his tone, one that Nima couldn't miss. He felt as if his heart had been scattered into millions of pieces. Holding back his tears, he got back into his car and drove away, the pain in his chest growing with each passing moment.
The night after, James didn't show up in front of Nima, but she kept waiting. Days turned into weeks, and the emptiness grew within her. She missed his presence, the way he would always come by to see her, and the silent comfort he brought with him.
Nima tried to focus on her work, but the days felt longer and lonelier. She found herself glancing at the door, hoping to see his familiar figure walking in, but he never came. The lively chatter in the cafe seemed distant and hollow without him around.
"Why haven't you come, James?" she whispered to herself, tears welling up in her eyes. "Did I say something wrong? Did I hurt you?"