It was the weekend.
Elara sat on the couch, still thinking about the last time she had met Alax’s parents — and the truth she had discovered: Ronan was the one who had been leaving flowers at her mother’s grave every time she visited. He hadn’t come to college that day. He had texted her, called her — but she hadn’t answered.

She’d realized something she didn’t want to admit: the person she’d truly wanted to see was Ronan, not Alax.
But she hadn’t told Ronan anything. If he didn’t want to bring it up, she wouldn’t either. Still, deep down, she knew Ronan liked her — and now, she didn’t know what to do.

The doorbell rang. Her phone vibrated in her hand — another call from Alax.

When she opened the door, Alax was standing there, his phone pressed to his ear. His eyes met the phone still buzzing in her hand. His expression softened with sadness.

“Why aren’t you picking up? What happened?” he asked quietly.

Elara said nothing. She started to close the door, but Alax caught it with his hand and pushed gently. She let the door stay open and walked back to the couch.

He followed her.
“What’s wrong? You’re not texting me back, you’re ignoring my call?” Alax asked, sitting beside her.

Elara’s eyes stayed fixed on the dark TV screen. “You should leave,” she said flatly. “I don’t want to talk to you. Let’s just ignore each other from now on.”

Alax didn’t move. His gaze stayed on her, desperate. He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away.

There was fear in his eyes — fear of losing her.
“Elara, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t know my parents would come and make a scene. I’m sorry — for them.”

“I’m not mad because of them,” Elara whispered.

Alax frowned slightly. “Then what?” he asked, voice low.

Elara looked at him, her eyes glistening.
“When my mom died, we buried her by the river, because she wanted to” she began quietly. “People used to say souls linger around when someone dies. So I went there every weekend, hoping maybe… I could meet her again. But I never did.”

She looked away, her eyes distant. Alax listened, silent.

“Then one day, when I was crying by the riverbank, someone dropped a yellow rose — my mom’s favorite flower,” she continued. “I thought it was her… her soul, giving me a sign that she was still with me.”

Tears filled Alax’s eyes as Elara’s voice trembled.

“It went on for a long time,” she said softly. “Every weekend, I’d find a flower waiting there. But one day, there wasn’t one. Instead, there was a small plant — a plant of yellow roses. After that, the flowers stopped appearing. I thought I’d lost her soul, too.”

Elara smiled faintly through her pain. “Then one afternoon, after school, I saw that same plant blooming — five flowers on it. I smiled because it felt like Mom had come back again. I still have that plant Whenever I look at, it comforts me. You know — a mother’s comfort.”

She fell silent for a moment, her eyes reflecting both warmth and sorrow.

Alax swallowed hard. “Why are you telling me this now?” he asked quietly.

Elara looked straight at him. “Because you always mentioned the yellow roses you gave me, but you never mentioned that potted plant you gave me last.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, full of quiet questions. “At first, I ignored it. I thought maybe you just didn’t want to bring it up. But now I realize… You didn’t mention it because you didn’t know. Because it wasn’t you.”

Alax froze, unable to respond.

“You lied to me,” Elara said softly, her voice shaking. “You knew it was Ronan — and you said nothing.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes brimming with tears. “Yes, I’m mad. You played with my feelings.”

Alax reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. “Elara, it’s not like that. I’m sorry. I lied — but I had no other choice.”

Elara pushed his hands away. “Let’s not see each other anymore.”

Her voice broke on the last word. She sank back onto the couch, lost in her mother’s memories.

Alax didn’t move. He just stood there, watching her, his heart heavy, as Elara lay there in silence — broken, distant, and unreachable.

“Elara…” he said softly, his voice low, eyes cast downward. “I had no choice.”

Elara looked at him, her expression tight. “What choice? Who asked you to pretend?” she asked, her voice trembling but sharp.

Alax reached out, trying to take her hand, but she quickly pulled it away.

“You should leave,” she said quietly. “I want to be alone.”

Without waiting for his response, Elara walked toward her room, closing the door behind her.

Alax stood there in the quiet living room, the echo of her words hanging in the air — the silence heavier than anything she could have said.