Together/Not

3 ⌛️The Hope

Carlos is having a rough day. He texts me, his frustration for seeping through the words. He's been in Hong Kong for hours, searching for a place for us tonight. The room we booked online is occupied for some reason. So he checked out four other rooms—each more disgusting and shabby than the last—until he finally gave up, sitting at a coffee shop.

Waiting for me,
Frustrated
exhausted,
distant.

I try to comfort him, "I'm here now."
But his gaze stays distant, frustration still etched on his face. It feels like no matter how close we are, there's an invisible wall between us.

We eventually found a place to stay for the night, better than the last, but still far from perfect.
The room is quiet—too quiet.
The kind of silence that amplifies every thought, every doubt.
It hangs between us, heavy and suffocating,
and I can't help but wonder if we're drifting further apart with each passing second.

Then, out of nowhere, he says, "I'm heading out to meet my friend." His tone is flat, cold.

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but the words die in my throat.

He's already leaving.
No invitation,
no explanation.
Just gone.

The door closes behind him, and I'm left there, feeling hollow, like a shadow of myself.

What happened to us?

He was supposed to take me with him, to introduce me to his friend. I was excited for it—finally a chance to be a part of his life in a real way. But now, I'm alone in this strange room, staring at the door like it might offer some kind of answer.

It's been an hour.

An hour of relentless overthinking, of my mind spiraling through endless scenarios—what is he doing right now? Why did he leave without me? What can I do to fix this, to make things right again? Each minute feels like an eternity, my anxiety feeding on itself, each thought more disturbing than the last. I replay every moment of the day, searching for clues, for something I missed, anything that might explain this sudden distance. The stress and sadness build up inside me like a storm, and I can't escape the feeling that I'm losing him.

My phone vibrates.
A message from him: "Do you want to get some beer?"

My heart skips.

Maybe this is it.

Maybe he's reaching out, trying to fix things.

For a moment, I feel a flicker of hope.

So I go. I get ready as fast as I can and rush to meet him, my pulse quickening with every step.
I want things to go back to how they were,
to find that connection again.
This has to be the moment we reconnect,
where things fall back into place.

It has to be.

I spot him from behind, his black polo shirt taut against his back. He looks serious, just like always. I feel nervous, unsure of what to say, so I force a smile and approach him.

"Hi, are you Carlos? I'm Mia, nice to meet you," I joke, hoping to spark something familiar.
Something warm.
But deep down, I'm terrified.

Will this be the moment we find each other again,

or has the distance already grown too wide?