For a while, it felt like things were going back to normal. Dalton and Vanessa started playing games again, their old routine slipping back into place as if the distance between them hadn't grown at all. Every night, they would call each other like they used to, the conversations stretching into the early hours of the morning. Sometimes, they even slept on the phone together, the quiet hum of her breathing in his ear making him feel close to her, even from miles away.
Vanessa would tell him about her days, the little things that made her smile or laugh. She called him right before work, sometimes out of breath, rushing to clock in on time but still making sure to hear his voice before she started her shift. She'd talk about the hospital, about her patients, about how much she missed him. She'd send him funny selfies on her breaks, her hair slightly disheveled from rushing around, always with a playful caption that made him smile.
During these moments, Dalton felt a spark of hope. Maybe things were returning to how they used to be. He could almost pretend that the months of silence and distance hadn't happened, that they were still as close as ever. He cherished every call, every message, holding on to the pieces of her that she still shared with him.
Meanwhile, Dalton was trying to learn and grow. His training had been intense, but he was committed to improving, to becoming the best version of himself. He spent his days working hard, building the solid foundation he needed to succeed. A year passed. He had made progress—he was doing everything he could to set up a future for them. He had saved up money, started thinking about their future, and imagined how life would be when they were finally back together. But despite the long calls and late-night talks, there was one thing that nagged at the back of his mind.
Vanessa never visited him.
He had waited, hoping she would come.
In all the time they had been apart, Dalton had imagined the moment she would finally come to see him. He pictured her stepping off a plane, running into his arms, and everything finally feeling complete again. He imagined taking her to all the places he had discovered, showing her his new life, introducing her to his friends. But as the weeks turned into months, and the months into a year, that moment never came. She always had reasons—work, school, or just bad timing. Excuses that started to sound less convincing over time.
Dalton tried to be patient. He told himself that Vanessa was just busy, that her reasons were valid. After all, she had a lot on her plate with her job and her family, and he didn't want to pressure her. But with every passing month, the hope that she would visit began to fade. It hurt to think that he had been waiting so long, planning out every detail of their reunion, only to be met with disappointment again and again.
One night, after another long phone call, Dalton finally asked her the question that had been sitting on his mind for months. "Why haven't you visited me?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with the weight of disappointment.
Vanessa hesitated, and for a moment, there was only silence on the line. "I've been busy.." she finally said, her tone casual, as if it wasn't a big deal. "You know how it is."
Dalton felt a tightness in his chest. Busy. That word again. He had heard it so many times now, it was starting to lose its meaning. "I get that" he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "But... it's been a year, Vanessa. I thought... I thought you'd want to see me."
"I do" she said quickly, but there was something hollow in her words. "It's just hard, you know?"
He nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "Yeah... I know."
But something in her response felt wrong. He didn't know what had changed, but the Vanessa he had known—the one who used to make time for him, no matter how busy she was—was slipping away.
But things didn't improve.
They were still close, or at least, Dalton tried to convince himself they were. They still played games together, still talked on the phone, still said "I love you" at the end of every conversation. But something had shifted. It was subtle at first—small things that Dalton tried to ignore.
Vanessa started school, and everything changed.
At first, it was just that she didn't have as much time to talk. She was busy with classes, assignments, and exams. Dalton understood—he wanted her to succeed, to focus on her future. He encouraged her, even tried to help her with study tips when they spoke. But as the days turned into weeks, the space between them grew wider. The calls became less frequent, sometimes only a few minutes here and there. She couldn't call him before work anymore, couldn't stay on the phone with him at night. The late-night calls stopped altogether, and slowly, she stopped texting back.
Dalton would send messages—simple ones, asking how her day was or telling her something funny that happened at work—but her responses became shorter and less frequent. Sometimes, hours or even days would go by without a word from her. And then, one day, he noticed that she had turned off her read receipts. He couldn't tell if she was even reading his messages anymore.
The promises they had made began to crumble.
Dalton had once believed in those promises—the ones they made when they were still close, still connected. The promise that she would visit him. The promise that they would be together again, no matter the distance. They had promised to make things work, to support each other through the difficult times. But with each passing day, it felt like Vanessa was slipping further away. She gave her time to other things, to other people. Her texts became less frequent, her calls rare, and Dalton could feel her pulling away.
Vanessa no longer shared the details of her life with him. She didn't call him on her breaks anymore, didn't send him the funny selfies she used to. She seemed distracted, distant, like she had become someone else. When they did talk, she sounded tired, or worse—disinterested. The conversations that used to flow so easily between them now felt forced, like neither of them knew what to say.
Dalton's frustration grew.
He tried to be understanding, to give her space, but it hurt. It hurt to know that the person he had once been so close to was slowly becoming a stranger. Every time he reached out, it felt like he was grasping at thin air, and the harder he tried, the further she pulled away.
He couldn't help but wonder if there was something else going on—someone else, maybe. He didn't want to believe it, didn't want to think that Vanessa had found someone else to give her time to. But the way she had changed, the way she seemed so distant... it was hard not to think the worst.
One night, after weeks of barely hearing from her, Dalton sent a long message, pouring out everything he had been holding in. He told her how much he missed her, how much he hated the distance between them. He asked her what had changed, why she wasn't the same anymore. He asked her if she still cared, if they were still in this together.
He waited for a response. But the response never came.
Vanessa didn't reply. The next day, she sent a short message—something about being busy with school, with no acknowledgment of the message Dalton had poured his heart into. It was like she hadn't even read it.
Dalton tried to act like everything was okay, but deep down, he knew it wasn't. The promises they had once made—the ones that had held them together through so much—were breaking. Vanessa no longer talked about the future, no longer mentioned visiting him or making plans for them. She was living her life, and it felt like Dalton wasn't part of it anymore.
She gave her time to different things and different people. There were new names mentioned in passing, new friends, new places she was going. None of them included Dalton. He was still trying, still holding on, but it felt like he was holding on to something that had already slipped through his fingers.
Slowly but surely, the cracks widened, and the promises were severed.