I sat across from her, the dim candlelight casting soft shadows on her face. It had been weeks since we last had dinner together. My schedule was relentless—training, meetings, races. The time we had was scarce, and when we finally managed to steal a few moments, I didn’t know what to do with them.

She was always seen like a quiet girl. From the moment I met her, she carried a certain stillness with her, like a whisper in a world that never stopped shouting. I liked that about her. It balanced me. But tonight, the silence felt different.

"How was your training?" she asked, her voice delicate but steady.

I barely looked up at her. "Fine," I answered, reaching for my phone almost immediately.

She nodded, her gaze drifting to the other tables, watching the couples who laughed easily, who talked without hesitation. I could see her observing them, comparing. But I didn’t know how to give her that.

A message popped up on my screen, and I couldn’t help but smile as I read it. It was just a stupid joke, something only we would understand. My fingers moved quickly, typing back a response.

"What’s funny?" she asked.

I barely noticed the edge in her voice. "Just Mia."

"What about?" she pressed.

I hesitated for a second, but there was nothing to hide. "Inside joke."

She didn’t say anything right away, just stared at the untouched glass of water in front of her.

"I'm meeting her after dinner," I muttered.

Her lips parted slightly, as if she was about to say something, but instead, she just let out a breath and nodded. "If that’s what you want to do, then go."

The waiter arrived with our food, and we both fell into silence. I picked at my plate absentmindedly, the weight of something unspoken settling between us like an invisible wall. She wasn’t eating either. Just staring at her fork, lost in thought.

After a while, I glanced at her and frowned. "You good? You’re too quiet."