Things fell apart before Nayeon even noticed it.

She doesn’t know when she started seeing the signs—the cancelled plans, the slow and cold replies, the deafening silence that’s always there when they’re together.

All that she remembers is staying up late at night, wondering when Jeongyeon stopped loving her.

She wasn’t Nayeon’s type. She was better. It was as if Jeongyeon took one look at Nayeon’s long mental list of the things she wants and needs from someone else and asked, “Is that all?”

When Jeongyeon said, “I think I love you,” Nayeon replied, “I already know.”

Nayeon used to believe that Jeongyeon loved her even before she first said it. She didn’t need those words to be said out loud. She already felt it.

She doesn’t know when she stopped believing.

Maybe it was when Jeongyeon stopped trying.

It was kinda surprising, how Jeongyeon gave up on them so easily. They didn’t even fight much, but usually, Jeongyeon was the one who fixed things when Nayeon would get mad, no matter whose fault it really was.

Nayeon doesn’t know when Jeongyeon decided things weren’t worth fixing anymore.

Moving on is a slow process, but falling out of love isn’t. It’s something you’d look back on without being able to identify when the process began and when it ended.

It just happens.

Meeting Sana was possibly a catalyst.

Sana was attractive and sweet and there. She gave Nayeon all the attention and affection that Jeongyeon stopped providing.

When Sana said, “I’m pretty sure I like you,” Nayeon replied, “I already know.”

Subtlety didn’t seem like Sana’s strong suit anyway.

Nayeon told herself it wasn’t cheating. After all, she’s never let Sana kiss her nor did she ever say that she likes her back.

It’s not that Sana’s company felt like home. It’s just that Sana’s company made Nayeon forget that home doesn’t feel like home anymore.

Apparently, Jeongyeon felt the same way because she left without saying a word.

Nayeon didn’t even have to go through denial. She knew Jeongyeon wasn’t coming back.

Expecting something to happen doesn’t make it hurt any less when it actually happens.

There was a hollow feeling in Nayeon’s chest, and she was desperate to stop feeling it.

The first time she kisses Sana, her first thought isn’t “finally.” She was hoping it would make her mind go silent and her heart feel less empty.

It helps.

It really does.

At least for a while.

She really does like Sana. She helps Nayeon forget.

Sure, sometimes, Nayeon gets reminded of Jeongyeon when she sees a certain thing or eats a certain food or hears a certain song. Sometimes, Nayeon randomly wonders where Jeongyeon is, what she’s doing, and whom she’s with. Still, for the most part, Nayeon doesn’t think about her anymore.

Except when Sana asks her what they are and hints about wanting something more, her mind immediately goes to Jeongyeon.

She suddenly remembers everything—how good things were at the start, how much she felt when Jeongyeon first confessed, how loved she was all throughout their relationship, and how badly it all ended.

Nayeon finds it hard to breathe with all of these suffocating thoughts, so she excuses herself and finds herself running.

Before she even realizes it, she’s already in front of Jeongyeon’s door.

Nayeon sees Jeongyeon again for the first time since forever, and for a moment, time stops.

“Can we talk?”