At first, he didn't notice the change. It started subtly—messages that took a little longer to be read, responses that lacked their usual warmth. He convinced himself it was nothing. She was busy. Life was unpredictable. But just two or three days after they met, the distance between them grew, not in miles but in silence.
She no longer sent him good morning texts, no longer laughed at his jokes the way she used to. When he asked if something was wrong, she brushed it off with vague replies.
"You're overthinking," she said once. "Everything's fine."
But it wasn't fine.
Then, the group chat.
She was still active there, laughing, engaging—just not with him. She talked to others, especially one particular guy. He recognized the name immediately. The same one who had once confessed to her. The same one he had warned her about.
Something inside him twisted.
Then, out of nowhere, she ended it.
There was no explanation, no closure. Just a simple, emotionless message.
"I don't think this is working. Let's not talk anymore."
Just like that, it was over.