After the Heartbreak

Chapter 5: A Dream Awakened

Months passed after my breakup with Clifford, and it felt like life was slowly returning to normal. I was healing, learning to love myself again, and focusing on my future. But one night, something unexpected happened: I dreamed of Gino.

It wasn’t a typical dream. It felt vivid, almost too real, like I was being pulled back into the past. In the dream, we were talking, laughing like old friends, and for the first time in a long while, I felt... happy.

When I woke up the next morning, the dream lingered, haunting me. It stirred up emotions I thought I had buried. Gino had been my first real crush, the boy who had unknowingly stolen my heart in high school. And even though our brief interactions had ended years ago, that dream left me wanting more.

I stared at my phone for a long time that morning, debating whether or not to reach out to him. It had been years. Would he even remember me? Would he care?

“Why would he care?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. I wasn’t brave enough to reach out directly. So, I did the only thing I could think of—I created a fake profile.

It wasn’t my proudest moment. I didn’t want to be that girl—hiding behind an anonymous screen name just to avoid rejection. But fear is a powerful thing. So, I used a profile picture of a Chinese actress and sent him a message.

“Hey, I had a strange dream about you.”

I cringed as I hit send, wondering what on earth I was thinking. Days passed with no response, and I almost forgot about the whole thing. Maybe it was better this way. At least I wouldn’t have to face rejection if he never responded.

But then, one afternoon, a notification popped up.

“Who is this?” he had replied, simple and direct.

My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t expected him to answer, and now that he had, I didn’t know what to say. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as I typed back.

“Just someone from your past,” I wrote, fingers trembling slightly. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet. If he figured out who I was, would he be disappointed? Would he think it was a joke?

His response came quickly this time. “Okay, now I’m curious. Why don’t you just tell me who you are?”

“I can’t,” I typed back. “Not yet.”

We exchanged messages every few days, our conversations brief but intriguing. Gino seemed curious, though cautious. I could tell he wasn’t sure if he should trust me, and I didn’t blame him. After all, I wasn’t being entirely honest. But something about our conversations made me feel alive again, like a part of me was waking up after a long slumber.

One night, after weeks of chatting, Gino’s tone changed.

“I think I know who you are,” he wrote, and my heart raced as I stared at his message.

I hesitated before replying. “Who do you think I am?”

“You’re Megan, aren’t you?” His message felt like a punch to the gut. He had figured it out. The game was over.

For a moment, I considered lying. I could have denied it, kept hiding behind the anonymity of the fake profile. But what was the point? He already knew. I sighed, typing my confession.

“You’re right. It’s me.”

There was a long pause before he replied. I could almost hear the gears turning in his mind.

“Why didn’t you just tell me from the beginning?” he asked.

“I was afraid,” I admitted, my fingers trembling as I hit send. “I thought if you knew who I was, you wouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“I would have wanted to talk to you,” he replied, his words sending a rush of relief through me. “You should have trusted me.”

“I know,” I typed back, feeling the weight of my insecurities pressing down on me. “I’m sorry.”

The conversation shifted after that. Gino became more open, more attentive. We started talking almost every day, sharing stories, memories, and dreams. He told me about his work, his goals, and the things he had been through since high school. I found myself laughing at his jokes, feeling like a teenage girl all over again.

“You know,” Gino said one night, “we should go somewhere. Just the two of us.”

I blinked at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest. Was he serious? After all these years?

“Like a date?” I typed, holding my breath.

“Yeah, why not? Let’s go to Verdissimo Tops. I’ll show you the city from up there. It’s beautiful.”

I smiled at the screen, my heart swelling with hope. I knew it was probably foolish to believe in something so fragile, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I had a chance with him.