My Roommate my Ex?

Chapter 2: The Ghost Of Us

The Ghost of Us

The days that followed were a blur of awkward encounters and stolen glances. Freen, trying to avoid Becky as much as possible, buried herself in work, her laptop a shield against the emotional storm brewing within her. She'd wake up, eat breakfast in a hurried silence, and retreat to her desk, the rhythmic tapping of her fingers on the keyboard a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil in her heart. The apartment, once a haven of shared laughter and whispered secrets, now felt like a prison of memories.

Becky, unable to escape the weight of their shared past, found herself drawn to Freen's presence, her heart yearning for a connection that felt lost. She'd catch glimpses of Freen in the kitchen, her back straight, her expression distant, and a pang of longing would twist through her. The apartment, once a stage for their love story, now felt like a silent testament to their heartbreak.

One evening, as Freen was hunched over her laptop, the glow of the screen illuminating her face, she felt a presence behind her. She turned to see Becky standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with a mixture of longing and sadness. The light from the hallway cast long shadows across Becky's face, highlighting the lines of worry that had etched themselves onto her brow.

"Freen," Becky said, her voice barely a whisper. "Can we talk?"

Freen hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edge of her laptop. She knew this conversation was inevitable, but she wasn't sure she was ready for it. The words she'd been avoiding, the emotions she'd been suppressing, threatened to spill over.

"About what?" she asked, her voice strained.

"About us," Becky said, her eyes pleading. "About what happened."

Freen sighed, her shoulders slumping. She knew that avoiding the conversation wouldn't make the pain go away. The truth was, she'd been carrying the weight of their breakup like a heavy stone in her chest, a constant reminder of the love they'd lost.

"Okay," she said, her voice barely audible. "Let's talk."

They sat on the couch, the worn cushions sinking beneath their weight. The silence between them was deafening, filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. The air in the apartment seemed to thicken, heavy with the weight of their shared history.

"I miss you," Becky said, her voice cracking. "I miss our talks, our laughter, our... our everything."

Freen's heart ached, a familiar pang of longing twisting within her. She missed Becky too, missed the way she made her laugh, the way she understood her without a single word. They'd been a whirlwind of shared dreams and stolen kisses, their love a vibrant tapestry woven with laughter and passion. But the pain of their breakup, the hurt of their shattered dreams, still lingered, a constant ache in the space where their love had once resided.

"I miss you too," she said, her voice a mere whisper. "But it's not that simple, is it?"

Becky nodded, her eyes filled with tears. "I know," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I know."

They sat in silence, the weight of their past hanging heavy in the air. The ghost of their love, a bittersweet memory, lingered between them. The apartment, once a haven of shared dreams, now felt like a mausoleum of their lost love. And as they sat there, lost in their thoughts, they both knew that their journey back to each other, if it was possible, would be a long and arduous one.